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dumpywrites · 6 months

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Cat-astrophe - Min Yoongi / Suga

Summary: Your pet cat keeps going to your neighbor’s apartment and it’s a problem.

Genre/tags: Fluff-ish, strangers to ???, minor mention of anxiety.

Pairing: Yoongi x she/her reader

a/n: cus we're all soft for long haired Yoongi, right? hehe

It had been officially a month since you had moved to a new apartment place. You loved the new place honestly. It was cozy and the neighborhood looked nice. There were many convenience store nearby and the street was always still busy until late at night, making you feel a little bit of secure when coming home late.

While the place was nice it had one tiny downside. It was rather on the far side from your workplace. It took you an hour of bus ride just to get home from the office, so some days could be more tiring than others. And today was one of those tiring days.

It was around nine at night on a Monday. Having to work overtime for the deadline and missed the bus, really dreaded you out. You were both tired and hungry, arriving home only to find that your pet cat was missing. It really just was not your day.

To say you were panicking would be a bit of an understatement. Cookie was barely a four month-old cat and had a very tiny body. All the negative possibilities start filling your head and you were horrified by all of them. Not to mention how it was basically forbidden to bring pets in the apartment complex. It was one of the policies but you couldn't help it since Cookie was a rescue.

When you arrived at your apartment lobby with a cat snack on your hand, there wasn’t that many people there. You walked past a guy by the front desk, who had medium-length black locks and fair skin, with headphones dangling on his neck. You began to call your pet’s name as soon as you were outside the lobby, but suddenly you felt a light tap on your shoulder.

“Are you looking for a small black Bombay cat?” It was the same guy who just walked past you.

“Oh my god, I am! Have you seen him???” You said, your voice was a little bit shaky.

“He’s in my place, I’m on the seventh.”

“Oh, me too!”

“I know.”

“Oh.” You said, surprised at how stoic he sounded saying that, but didn’t further question him on it. “I’m so sorry for bothering you, can I go get him now?”

“Sure, I was just gonna go up as well.”

When you both entered the elevator, you made a mental note to ask his name or at least introduce yourself. He was a neighbor after all. It was pretty silent inside the lift and you just hoped he didn’t hear your stomach rumbling ever so slightly. You took a deep breath, bearing the hunger for a little while.

When the elevator door opened you followed him from behind as he led you to his door. When he stopped at his front door, your eyes were widened in shock.

“You live next to me?!”

“Yeah.” He said casually and unlocked the door. "I've seen you multiple times."

You chose to not further question and followed him but stopped when you had only took two steps in, because technically, the homeowner had not really officially permit you to come in. The guy seemed to notice how you just stood awkwardly and looked back.

“You can sit down for a sec, I’ll go get him.”

“Oh, right… yeah. Thank you.” You said awkwardly and walked to sit on his couch.

A few seconds later the man came back with your cat in his embrace. Cookie was clinging on his tshirt before he tugged him and gave him onto your lap.

“Cookie!” You called, almost teary.

“I think he jumped from your balcony to mine. Make sure to close your balcony door next time.”

“Thank you so much, I owe you… uh…”

“Yoongi.”

“Thank you, Yoongi.” You repeated and introduced yourself in return. “I’m Y/N, and if you ever need anything please let me now.” You said as you stood up, already making your way out.

“Also, thank you for not reporting it…”

“No problem.” Was all the guy said and by this point you figured he was not much of a talker.

You bid your goodbye to your neighbor, which only gained a small nod before he closed the door on you. You walked to your door and let Cookie down as soon as you got inside. Sighing deeply, you began to feel your stomach rumble again, this time it rumbled quite loudly. Your feet were aching from standing on the bus and now your body finally got on how tired you were.

Cookie meowed and immediately went to his cat bed and laid down. You sighed and smiled at the small creature.

“You little rascal… you’re lucky I love you.”

You then went to your kitchen to cook yourself some instant ramen.

The next day you went to work and had to take another overtime. Unfortunately you had to for the rest of the week until your current project was done. It was exhausting but you had to make it and mostly thinking about the bonus pay from it helped quite a bit. You spent the next few days the same, repeating the schedules, and the tiring work.

It was almost ten at night that you arrived home and found out Cookie had gone missing again. For some reason your first instinct was to knock on your next door, in hope the neighbor who once helped you, could lend you a hand again, and hoping maybe Cookie just ran to his place again instead of being gone somewhere where it wasn't safe for him.

You knocked on the door and didn’t get immediate answer. You waited for what felt like five minutes, before the door opened and you were greeted with the sight of your neighbor with wet hair. He had a small white towel around his neck and the hoop earring that you saw him with before was absent. His skin looked glowing, you probably needed to ask about his skin care routine later.

“So sorry to interrupt you, I was wondering if Cookie might have gone to your place again?”

“He’s right there on the couch.” He casually pointed. His expression was straight and had you wondering if he did not mind it, bothered, or simply didn’t care.

You slowly walked to approach your cat and bent down to its level. “Cookie, you need to stop this…” You tapped the cat's nose, as if scolding the poor cat would do anything.

“He jumped to my balcony again, did you forget to close the door?”

“But I made sure to close it this morning…” You looked at your neighbor, who walked closer to inspect the cat.

“I think he knows how to turn door knobs, since he’s quite a jumper. You need to lock the door.”

“I can’t believe this little demon…” You sighed, fingers still stroking the purring cat.

“He’s… alright.”

You were slightly taken aback by the response and looked up to him, but much to your disappointment, his expression still looked the same. You were about to get up and excuse yourself, but you notice a small steel bowl under his dining table, half full with what you assumed to be cat milk (I mean, it would be weird if it was his, duh!).

“You also have a cat?”

His eyes followed yours. “Oh, that. I got it the first time Cookie came here, I figured he must be thirsty since he came in around noon time.”

“That’s… that’s very nice of you.” You looked at him and smiled. Somehow him addressing your cat by his name sounded lovely.

“You can have the rest of the milk if you want, since you’ve figured out how he escaped and all…”

“It’s okay, you can keep it! Just in case he ran into you again…” You chuckled but then stopped after realizing how that just sounded like you did not mind troubling him with your cat continuously. “I mean… I’m sorry, I’ll make sure he’ll never escape again.”

“It’s alright, I’ll keep the milk for now.” He paused for a second, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just in case.”

You looked at your neighbor and couldn’t help but to feel all warm inside. He seemed like a nice person and from the looks of it he also liked your cat.

“Thank you so much, Yoongi. I’ll be taking this little guy here then...” You smiled at him and stood up with Cookie in your arms.

“I got some dim sum…”

You looked at the guy questioningly.

“Do you maybe want some?”

“That’d be too much, it’s okay, you go ahead and eat.” You politely declined. Although you were hungry, you could bring yourself to bother your neighbor any more than what you had done.

“Have you eaten?”

“Y-yeah?” You asked, afraid you heard it wrong.

“Have you eaten?” He repeated. “If not, then I insist you take some.”

“I…” You wanted to lie, but at this point it would come off as rude if you refuse him again. “I actually haven’t. Thank you very much though, I feel so bad that you’re being this nice to me.”

“You can just eat them here.”

“I don’t wanna disturb—“ You were awkwardly cut by the sound of your stomach rumbling.

“You’re not disturbing me.” He cleared his throat and looked away.

That was embarrassing.

And that was how you ended up sitting down on your neighbor’s dining table, eating dim sums.

In silence.

This Yoongi guy really did not like conversation it seemed. He was sitting down on his couch and had turned the TV on. The volume was on but not quite loudly, and Cookie was on his lap, sleeping as he occasionally stroked the cat’s head softly. Funny that somehow you could see some resemblance of Yoongi with your cat.

“So… how long have you lived here?” You bit your bottom lip as you waited for his answer. You kind of regretted asking as soon as the words came out from your mouth, afraid it would be awkward.

“Around ten months or so.” He paused. “No, I think it’s been almost a year cause I spent two months overseas.”

“Really? What were you doing overseas?” You regretted asking again. Looking at how quiet Yoongi was, you didn’t want to ask too much or indulge into too much conversation, afraid it would be too much for him.

But much to your surprise, he answered. “I’m a producer. I was working for this artist and all the work had to be done in America.”

“Wow, that sounds amazing!” You said. At this point you no longer were sitting facing the table, but to him. “Who was the artist?”

“Uh… Halsey.” He replied while looking at the TV screen, seemingly to avoid your stare.

“Oh my god???” You gasped. “That’s incredible! So you’re like crazy talented?!”

“I’m alright…”

“You should show me some of your work someday!” You said enthusiastically. When Yoongi did not reply to it and stayed silent, you cursed yourself internally. “I mean compared to what I do that’s like really amazing.” You chuckled nervously.

“I’m sure you’re great at what you do.” He looked at you, a small smile was on his lips.

You realized it was the first time you saw him smile and it made your heart raced rather faster than usual. It was the first time you saw him with facial expression other than his usual poker face.

“I’m just a normal product designer at a very normal company.” You shrugged.

“Don’t downplay yourself like that. You work very hard.”

“Thanks…” You replied shyly.

After finishing your food, you got up and went to wash the dishes, which immediately got stopped by the homeowner. He politely told you to go back home and rest. Which again, you could not thank him more for.

You took your pet in your arms and said your goodbyes to your neighbor. Right when you arrived back in your place you came to realize something. Yoongi did not eat with you and there was only one portion of the food. While it could just meant he had already eaten beforehand, you felt giddy, thinking about another possibility. Was this a crush you sense forming? Frankly speaking, you could not care less. You were welcoming the possibility with open arms.

—

Friday finally came and you were ready to take it in. The days of working with your company project was going to an end, which meant you no longer need to work overtime after this. The thought of it put you in a very good mood.

This time right after arriving home, you walked to a nearby chicken restaurant and grab some not only for you, but also for your neighbor. You wanted to repay his kindness the past few days. After changing into some comfortable clothes, not to mention the multiple times you had to re-check the outfit in the mirror for some reason, you took your cat in your left hand and the food in the other. You knocked on your neighbor’s door hoping he was home.

And he was. You were greeted with his silence but he opened the door wider as soon as he saw your face without question. One thing that caught your eyes though was how he was dressed up like he was ready for a night out. He wasn’t in his usual sweatpants and baggy t-shirt, but instead in a ripped wide legged jeans and a light blue shirt, unbuttoned, with a plain white tee underneath. He looked handsome. And here you were, in your so-called comfy outfit that you were starting to regret.

“Before you ask, no, Cookie’s right here.” You smiled awkwardly as you raised the small cat in your hand for him to see. “I’m just here to drop by some chicken I got for you… as a thanks for your help these past few days.” You handed the plastic of food to him. “Alright, that’s all…”

He took the food from you hesitantly. “You don’t wanna come in?”

“Aren’t you going out or something?”

“I was… but you are here.” He said, sounding unsure.

“That’s ridiculous, why would I stop you from going out?”

“I was gonna go to your place…”

Your mouth formed a small O shape, unable to form a word. He was going to your place? But what for??? The butterflies in your stomach were having a blast.

“But you’re all dressed up…”

“I was gonna change back.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair, which made you gulped at the sight. “I knew this was a bad idea I shouldn't have listened to Hoseok—”

You stopped his rambling. “What do you mean?”

“I was gonna ask you if you wanted to go eat together at that one Chicken restaurant nearby…”

“Oh.” You widened your eyes.

“Yeah.” He looked at you, biting his cheek in annoyance.

“This is awkward.” You chuckled.

“Whatever, just… just come in first.”

You saw Yoongi putting the plastic of food on his table. You offered help after putting down your cat on his couch and walked to his direction. Both of you plated the food in comfortable silence, it felt oddly domestic and you liked it. At this point you were used to him being not talkative and see it as his charm.

After you took the plates to the living room, Yoongi suddenly came back with cans of beers and soju in his hands.

“We’re drinking?” You said with an amused grin.

“You can drink, right?”

“Sure, but can you?” You playfully eyed him.

“Don’t challenge me.”

You could see how he was trying to hide his smile, and it brought colors to your cheeks.

—

You did not know how you got in this situation. Five episodes in randomly rewatching Avatar The Last Airbender and you both were drunk. You were resting your head on his shoulder as you watch the screen. It seemed like the booze gave you confidence, or made you shameless, or both, but the guy didn’t complain so it could be a sign of a good thing. While you could see Yoongi holding his alcohol better than you, he was not completely sober either.

It was at this very moment where you saw things through a pink tinted lense. Had Yoongi’s hair always looked that soft? Had he always looked this handsome? You began to question things you should not be questioning.

“Why didn’t you change your clothes?” You randomly asked.

“Do I look bad?” He replied, eyes still on the screen, hands stroking the sleeping cat on his lap.

"Of course not, I just feel severely underdressed now..." You chuckled.

He eyed you from top to bottom, which made you nervous, but he shrugged, seemingly to not have any problem with your clothes.

“You look… handsome.”

“You think I look handsome?” He suddenly moved to face you, making you move to look at him as well. The tone of his voice sounded like he was teasing more than asking a question.

You nodded and bit your lips. “And you kinda look like Cookie.” You giggled.

He raised one of his eyebrows, clearly not satisfied with your answer.

“Your eyes…” You began to ramble. “They look just like Cookie’s, and when you look annoyed, or just your plain expression… you look like a cute cat.”

“Really…” Yoongi hummed.

“Yup!” You giggled like an idiot.

You failed to notice how at this point, Yoongi has put Cookie down from his lap to the floor. His face only inches away from you as you kept rambling.

“Your hair look so soft… like a cat’s fur.” You reached your hands closer to his hair, but stopped mid-way, scared he’d get uncomfortable.

Yoongi surprised you again by grabbing both of your wrist and putting your hands on his hair, letting you stroke his head slowly. You saw his expression softened and as you kept playing with his hair, he closed his eyes. You swore you heard him purr.

“Pretty.” You said with a drunk smile.

“Hmm. Pretty.” He mirrored.

“Okay, call me crazy but why do I kinda wanna kiss you right now.” You said, totally losing the battle with your common sense.

Yoongi chuckled. “You’re crazy.” He ran his fingers through his hair, looking to the right. “I like it.”

—

To be frank, you could not recall what happened after. You recalled some bits of karakoe-ing? Singing random PSY songs in your broken Korean using a bottle of whiskey as your mic. That was probably all? You couldn’t think while the throbbing headache was present in the room with you.

So why were you now in a bed that was not yours, wearing a t-shirt that was too big for you and was clearly not yours, also for heaven’s sake, WHY IS YOONGI SLEEPING NEXT TO ME???

You froze. Did you??? There was no way. Sure you found him attractive and all, and you definitely had this huge crush on him, but you couldn’t just sleep with a guy you barely knew. Besides your headache, your body didn’t feel any pain, so that was probably a good sign. What if he was just that gentle? Okay, you need to stop thinking at once before you started a whole fiction about you and Yoongi in your head.

When you turned your back, you felt the other side of the bed shifted as well.

“You’re up?” He asked with a raspy voice.

“Yeah.” You said, still back-facing him. “We didn’t… you know…”

“No, we didn’t.”

“Oh, okay good.”

Yoongi did not answered to that, but instead you felt him scooting closer.

“I’m sorry, this isn’t probably how you’d wanna spend your weekend.” You chuckled.

Your breath hitched when you felt a hand over your waist. “Is this okay?” He suddenly stopped when your body tensed at his touch.

You nodded, heart beating too loudly for you to form any sentence.

“This is nice.” He said, resting his forehead on your back.

When you stayed silent, he took your hand and turned you over to face him. Heat immediately took over your body as soon as your eyes meet. You noticed he was back in his usual home attire, oversized tee and sweatpants. His hair was messy, but it seemed like universe had its favorite cause he still looked good.

“You know, I haven’t had good sleep in… weeks.”

You were surprised by his sudden confession.

“It’s half past eleven now, and it’s not even ten minutes after I woke up…” He tittered. “My anxiety has been getting worse the past month and out of nowhere a black cat suddenly jumped to my balcony, meowing non-stop while I was working.”

You looked at him, letting him finish his talk. This was the most words you had ever heard coming out of Yoongi’s mouth and it made your heart flutter.

“I haven’t been caring. I’ve stopped caring, for a while now. Seeing you care so much for such a small creature… I don’t know, it feels good. It makes me wanna care.”

“Yoongi…” You cooed, caressing his cheek. "It's not true, all you have been since I first met you until this moment, was caring."

"I'm sorry if it feels like it came out of nowhere but I feel at home with you and I don’t know why...” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yet, at least.”

“I… like this too. A lot actually.” You said shyly.

“I would like to get to know you more if you’d like.” He was being honest and exactly to the point, no flirty bullshit to spice his sentences.

“I’d love that...”

Suddenly you heard a low meow from under the bed and Cookie jumped into the bed, joining you two. Apparently his bedroom door was left opened and none of you noticed how Cookie had entered. You giggled and he smiled as well, the widest smile and the most genuine you had ever seen from him, as he took the cat and cuddled both of you close.

"I think it's about time you give me your number..." You squinted at him playfully. "You know, so we don't repeat the whole chicken restaurant accident again?"

“Okay, but promise me first you won’t apologize again after kissing me.” He chuckled.

“EXCUSE ME WHAT???”

—

“Okay, call me crazy but why do I kinda wanna kiss you right now.” You said, totally losing the battle with your common sense.

Yoongi laughed. “You’re crazy.” He ran his fingers through his hair, looking to the right. “I like it.”

“I can be crazier if you open that whiskey.” You wiggled your eyebrows.

Yoongi just shook his head, smiling at your silliness. He stood up and went to grab his Hibiki anyway, which earned a shout of celebration from you.

Things escalated quickly after opening the bottle. Somehow you were starting a drunk karaoke session which followed by many dance breaks. You ended up crying when a sad song randomly came up in the playlist and when Yoongi asked why, you replied. You replied with your lips on his.

In your head it just made sense. It was his lips’ fault for looking so juicy. Yeah, totally his fault for looking so hot that it was driving you insane.

None of you moved and it only lasted seconds before your mood turned sour again.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean…” You pushed him gently. “Oh my god, you’re so gonna hate me!!!”

“Hey, calm down…“

You started to panic, tears now forming in your eyes again. “Please don’t hate me, I just wanted to kiss you…” You cried.

“Okay, I think that’s enough drinking—“

And you puked.

Yes, Yoongi did see your lilac colored bra when he helped you change into his t-shirt. But that’s a secret between him and little Cookie.

Thank you for reading! 💎

part 2 is here!

#yoongi scenarios #yoongi imagine #bts scenarios #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts imagines #min yoongi #bts suga #suga scenarios #suga imagine #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #suga x you #suga x y/n

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jesuistrestriste · 8 months

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♡ Cooking & Cleaning; Art Donaldson x Reader ♡

nsfw! (18+) cw: service sub!art donaldson, dom!reader, afab/fem reader, use of ma'am as an honorific, brief food play, oral sex (reader receiving), begging, handjob, brief edging, praise, degradation, multiple orgasms (character receiving), dry orgasm

wc: 6.3 k (whoops)

note: this was pulled from the most depraved parts of my brain. i refuse to be held accountable for the absolute filth this contains ! :)

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The very second that your key is in the apartment door and you're finally home, you find your legs nearly collapsing underneath you as you step inside and kick off your black kitten heels.

"God," you groan, shutting the door behind you before you move to peel your chic new blazer off of your shoulders. You toss it onto the coatrack nearby and bring a handful of your fingers up to your forehead to rub at it tensely, sighing deeply.

It had been a long day at the USTA (United States Tennis Association) office, and all you wanted to do was come home and see your husband.

After Art had lost several important and consecutive tennis matches, as well as his confidence on the court (despite his actual tennis skills still being phenomenal -- he just psyched himself out too much), he had decided to give up his life as a professional athlete.

At first, this devastated you. Not only did you love your partner and believe in him throughout his career, as well as believing in his very real ability to eventually win the US Open, but this decision of his also meant that your position as his coach would become obsolete..

You actually became quite anxious about you and Art's future at the time.. you had needed a purpose, and so did he. You both were just those kinds of people; you and him both wanted to feel that you were contributing to something bigger than just yourselves, and that you were being useful to someone or something.

Luckily, his many previous years of successful tennis playing had scored you and him a shit ton of wealth. Like, genuinely a lot. You were beyond grateful, but you still wanted a life of your own. You didn't dare to think about the idea of becoming a stay-at-home wife while he went out and did whatever he wanted. Yuck. It just wasn't for you.

Your fears and inner turmoil about this change in your lives were quickly eased once Art had sat you down about two weeks after he had left his tennis career behind. He had taken your hands in his, smiled softly like he always did, and told you that he wanted to stay at home and take care of everything in it while you went out and continued your career in the field of professional athletics.

Of course, you immediately and excitedly agreed with the idea of this new plan, and then that was that!

You two developed new lives and new roles as people over a short period of time, but it didn't take away from the love you two shared. That always stayed consistent and at the center of everything.

Eventually, after a month or so of coming home from your new job to Art doing things like vacuuming the wooden floors of your guys' expensive New York apartment, or making elaborate protein-packed smoothies for the gym sessions that you two still did together, you came to realize that the whole "house husband" persona was actually kinda hot.

He had realized it too. Quicker than you had, actually. In fact, he can distinctly remember the overwhelming feeling of heat that had pooled deep in his gut the first time he had ever served you a home-cooked meal after you came home from a long day at your new job. He had gently rubbed your sore feet that night while you ate, and then suddenly couldn't find a way to deny how this new practice of.. servicing you.. made him feel.

I mean, God, he loved doing that stuff for you.. cooking.. tidying.. pampering.. washing.. he would do it all. You knew that he worshipped the ground that you walked on—reminding yourself constantly of the time he had admitted to you during sex that he believed he would be "nowhere without you"—and you devoured the increased sense of power that came with it every. single. time. It eventually became very easy and comfortable for you to let him take care of you. You grew hungry for it.

And then this persona of his, over time, dissolved into something much more intimate..

After tossing your blazer on the rack and rubbing at your temples, you drag your pantyhose-covered feet across the floor and into the kitchen.

Your nose is instantly filled with the aroma of fluffy, vanilla sweetness and a bit of nutmeg. you sigh happily as you turn the corner and see Art standing over a mess of what appears to be flour and sugar in a large bowl on the kitchen counter. He looks over his shoulder briefly with a smile as he mixes the dry ingredients together with a whisk.

“Hey, hon,” he grins, before turning back to look down at his current baking project.

you shuffle up behind him and hug him, your cheek pressing against his warm upper back as your arms reach to wrap gently around his abdomen. You sigh deeply.

“Hey, babe.. ‘m so tired. It was such a long day.”

He laughs softly, which shakes you a bit as you hold him.

“What’d your colleagues do now?”

You shake your head against him, groaning dramatically.

“I don’t want to talk about it.. what are you baking? It smells good in here.”

“Nothing crazy, it’s just some holiday cookies. I found the recipe online this morning after you left.”

“How many are you planning to make? There’s already some in the oven.” you ask, peeking around his frame from behind to see him set the bowl aside and wipe his hands on the apron he’s wearing. (It was white with small pink hearts by the pockets. You got it for him when he started cooking for you everyday, and he used to feel weird about it. He said it made him feel “slightly emasculated”, but he quickly grew to absolutely adore it. It was just another way for you to claim him as your personal chef. One night before you got home, he jerked off while wearing it, but he would never tell you that.)

“I don’t really know,” he shrugs and chuckles sheepishly, “there are twelve baking right now, but I thought that maybe I could make some for our neighbors.”

You chuckle softly, your hands disconnecting from their place on his stomach to reach down and give his ass a small squeeze. He jumps a little at the feeling, embarrassed laughter bubbling up in his chest.

“Where’d all this holiday cheer come from?” you smirk, pulling back from your position against his back to lean your hip against the counter. You just wanted to look at his pretty face. Your eyes quickly fixate on the fact that he’s got a bit of flour on his flushed cheek.. It’s only a small puff and smear of the white substance near his jaw, but for some reason it starts a flame in your lower stomach. There was just something about the way he got a little messy when he cooked or baked for you.

His cheeks plump up in shape ever-so-slightly as he grins at you.

“I don’t know.. I had time before you got home- I mean, well, before i thought you’d get home, and so i thought I’d just-”

You take a step forward, nodding at his words while your body is now only inches from his. You look up into his glassy blue eyes.

“You thought you’d just.. what?” you purr, your hand coming up to caress his lower back.

He swallows thickly, briefly looking down at the mess on the counter before he looks back to you. His body temperature is steadily rising as he feels your fingertips caress him over his loose t-shirt.

“I just thought I’d make some more,” he whispers.

You lean in, reaching your other hand up to gingerly hold the side of his neck while you press a kiss to it.

“You’re such a sweetheart, aren’t you?”

He nods, slowly, his eyelids fluttering slightly at the feeling of your mouth on him.

“I..I mean, yeah, I guess.”

You lean in a bit more, sucking softly at his neck. His head lolls a bit forward, and you nip at him when the sound of his shaky breathing reaches your ears.

You pull back, a small smirk covering your face as you look up at him.

His focus darts from your eyes to your lips as he reaches both of his hands out for your waist, but he’s rudely interrupted when the timer for the oven goes off— cookies are done.

You both nearly jump out of your skin at the sound; the incessant beeping pulling you both out of the thick fog of tension between your bodies and minds.

“Shit,” he mumbles, flushing pink from his cheeks to the tips of his ears as he turns off the timer at the top of the oven and moves to hastily grab an oven mitt from the lower drawer.

He pulls open the oven door, and you step back to watch him pull the tray out and set it on top of the stove area.

He sighs, pulling off the mitt and setting it aside as he leans over the cookies. His eyes are inspecting each one, and he has a very focused expression plastered on his face. He was as much of a perfectionist in the kitchen as he used to be on the court, that was for sure.

Your body moves in to stand beside him, also peering down at the tray of gorgeous golden-brown cookies. You place a hand on his upper back, rubbing it encouragingly.

“These look incredible,” you say, smiling at him.

He nods, still inspecting them, “They look better than I thought they would.. I actually messed up earlier and accidentally added three-fourths of a cup of sugar instead of two-thirds..”

“They look perfect, don’t stress.”

He looks to you, his gaze meeting yours and then suddenly everything was back to how it was before the timer went off. His hands reach for your waist, squeezing at your hips as he looks lovingly down at you.

“Be proud of yourself, Art.. you did a good job,” you laugh softly, your hands reaching up to cup his face. He pulls you closer.

“I am.”

“Are you?”

“Mhm.”

“Good.”

You suddenly get a very filthy idea.

“Can.. can you tell me what the recipe called for?”

His brows furrow slightly as he seems taken aback by your request, his cock already starting to stir to life in his sweatpants just from holding your body. He didn’t want to talk about the damn cookies anymore.

“What?”

You roll your eyes, one of your hands dropping from his face to reach around the fabric of the front of his apron and grope him over his sweats. Your other hand moves down too, but just to gently hold the side of his torso. His whole body jolts forward and his lips part instantly.

“You’ll like where this is headed, trust me. Just talk to me.. tell me what you did to make the cookies look so perfect..”

He breathes unsteadily, his fingers digging into your waist as he feels your hand start to work his cock up to a full-blown, hot, twitchy erection.

“I.. uhm.. I just..” he breathes out, his eyes growing lidded as he absentmindedly bucks up against your touch, still trying to maintain eye contact as pleasure starts to flood his senses, “one cup of b-butter.. ngh-!.. two cups.. two cups of flour… and then- ugh!- two.. two-thir-r-ds.. of..”

His voice trails off, shaky and low and broken as he hangs his head a bit, leaking incessantly into his boxers. It was that easy for you to work him up.

You frown, “Uh oh.. come on, baby, don’t go nonverbal on me that quick.. we’ve just barely gotten started…”

A small whimper leaves his chest as he tries to finish his words, “Two-thirds, I m-mean- three-f-fourths of a c-cup of.. s-su.. sugar… one teasp’of vanilla.. and.. o-one.. teaspoon of nutm-eg.”

You smile, stroking his cock over the fabric of his pants, “Good boy.. God, you’re so pretty when you’re slurring for me..”

He moans obscenely, melting at the praise while he feels his length grow suddenly intensely hot. A certain kind of numbness starts to creep over his crotch before his hands are flying from your hips to your wrist.

“Wait! W-Wait!” he gasps, his eyes squeezing shut as he blows a concentrated shaky breath from his lips, his fingertips digging into your arm.

Your eyebrow lifts and you smile as you take in the way his body shakes and shudders as he holds it in for you. He knows how to behave.. what would make you happy.. what would make you disappointed.. After all, he’s been trained by you in more than just tennis.

“Close?” you whisper.

His body starts to slowly relax again as he regains some of his composure. He blinks his eyes back open slowly, looking into yours.

“Very,” he groans.

You pull your hands from his body, and he whines softly.

“Take off the apron. Put it on the floor.”

You’re sure you’ve never seen him move so fast— his hands reaching behind his back and undoing the tied string. Then, he pulls the apron off over his head, tossing it off to the side. He watches you study him with parted lips, and he bites onto his own.

“Now take your sweats off for me.”

He does as he’s told; his shaky fingers reaching down to slip his pants down to his lower thighs, and then down to his knees and ankles, and then he steps out of them. He kicks them gently next to where the apron was thrown, now making a mess of grey and white fabric where both items pooled on the kitchen floor.

You step close to his body, cupping his face before running a hand through his messy strawberry-blonde locks. But it doesn’t take long for your eyes to travel solely down to the bulge prominently pressing against the inside of his navy boxer briefs. You run a fingertip up and over the outline of his dick, relishing in the way it makes him shake. He was now just in his tee shirt, boxers, and white socks, while you stayed fully clothed. But not for too much longer.

"My pretty husband.." you coo to him, making his lips part to let out a few uneven breaths. You glance around his frame and notice a bowl off to the side that had remnants of the soft cookie dough from the first batch of the cookies. You smirk.

You lean forward and swipe your thumb along the inside of the bowl, gathering some of the sugary, buttery mixture on your digit. His gaze remains lidded and locked onto your face, not finding any importance in your hand's movements at the kitchen counter. You bring your thumb back in, showing him what you did.

He spares your thumb a quick glance, but then his eyes are back on yours, and then your lips, and then the way that your breasts are peeking out from the low-cut collar of your work top. You bring your thumb up to his mouth.

"Open," you whisper.

He does as he's told, parting his lips further and leaning in to encourage your finger to slip past them.

You push your cookie dough-covered thumb into his mouth, feeling him immediately begin to suckle on it; his tongue swirled over it, and his eyes fluttered shut right after they began to roll back. His brows furrow, and a couple of faint whines bubble up out of him as the taste of his homemade sweetness melts seamlessly on his palate.

While your thumb is in his mouth, you push it down softly on his tongue.

"Knees, baby," you say breathlessly.

Art knew this command like the back of his hand.

Effortlessly and steadily, he dropped down to his knees one after the other, keeping your digit in his mouth the entire time. He didn't dare let it go. He moved to sit on his calves.

"Good job.. good boy..."

He whimpered, the vibrations of his pathetic sounds causing your hand to buzz slightly.

"I want your mouth on my cunt.. can you do that for me, darling?" you purr, running your hand through his hair for a moment. He nods around you.

"Y'sh, m'm.." he mumbled, trying his best to speak while still relishing your touch with enough attention.

You pull your thumb from the heat of his wet mouth, and smirk as you watch his lips chase after it.

"What was that?"

You already had a good idea about what he had murmured, but it was just.. best to be sure.

"Yes, ma'am," he gasps out softly, his eyes glazed over.

He reaches up and pulls at your skirt, shimmying it down and over your ass and thighs, letting it fall to your ankles. You kick it aside, and lean your back against the countertop. Art positions himself on his knees so that he's on the floor in front of you, looking up at you. His hands shakily reach up to the sides of your pantyhose, his tongue licking out over his bottom lip. He digs his fingers into the taut fabric and looks up at you once more, beginning to pull them down.

Immediately you grab his wrists, halting his movements. His eyes look up into yours, worried that he had made a wrong move, but you shake your head with a soft smile.

"You can rip them."

He doesn't even mean to, but he moans when you give him permission to be a little desperate right now.

In an instant, his strong hands are pulling needily at your tights, causing them to rip from your crotch to your lower thighs. He hooks one of his index fingers into the inside of your panties, his thighs tensing up at the feeling of your wetness, and then he's pushing them to the side. His tongue rests out over his bottom lip as he leans in, holding the back of your leg with his free hand as his eyes flutter shut and he engulfs your heat with his mouth.

"Oh, fuck-!" you yelp, reaching down to tangle your hands in his soft curls, "fuck, fuck, that feels good, Art, don't stop.."

He moans, his eyes squeezed shut as he lathes his tongue up and down and over your wet hole. He lewdly sucks and swallows your slick that's quickly spilling over his tongue, trying to focus harder on your pleasure (and less on the feeling of his cock throbbing rapidly in his boxers.. he can feel himself leaking).

You remove your hands from his hair and move to unsteadily grip the countertop, your back pressing hard against it. Art hums around you in his mouth, moving his tongue up to lick sloppily at your clit. He opens his eyes, his brows furrowed, and looks up at you.

"God, you're so good at this.. you're doing so well.. i'm getting.. close.." you breathe out, studying the upper half of his face while the lower half remains buried in your pussy.

He doubles his efforts, smushing his face deeper against you, his lips pursing to suckle against your sensitive nub as his grip on your leg tightens. Art has half a mind at that moment to just scoot forward a bit and slot your ankle between his thighs, but he won't. You came first, in his mind. Literally, and figuratively.

You sling the leg that he's holding over his shoulder, giving him more access, and then you begin to feel an overwhelming, hot numbness creep over your lower half..

"ANGH!" you moan loudly, squeezing your eyes shut as your body begins to shake. Your fingers grip the kitchen counter so hard that you're afraid you'll break a nail.

"I'm going to cum, Art..!"

"Mm! Mm-mm!"

"I'm.. oh my god.... I'm... I'm-! Cumming-!" you whine, feeling your orgasm crash over you.

"MM-!" he laps at your pulsing cunt, squeezing his eyes shut before forcing them open so that he can watch the way your beautiful face moves to contort in ecstasy.

You groan and whine as your orgasm's aftershocks are uncomfortably prolonged by Art's relentless tongue, and your hands release the marble countertop to reach down and grab two soft fistfuls of his hair. You try to tug his head back from your cunt, but he just closes his eyes and presses his nose and mouth further against your core. The repetitive movements of his tongue over your folds cause lewd, wet noises to fill the kitchen.

"Art... A-Art..! Enough!" you slur out as the pleasure from before starts to melt into a prickly sting of oversensitivity.

His eyes flutter open and you shoot him a warning glance as he peers up at you.

"I said enough, yeah?" you snap, "stand up."

He immediately pulls his mouth away from your sticky body and stands up on shaky legs. His eyes look downward, guiltily avoiding your gaze, as he wipes at the clear slick covering his chin with the back of his hand.

You try to catch your breath for a moment, studying his chest as it heaves up and down -- him trying to catch his breath all the same. You reach out and take his lower jaw softly in one hand, forcing him to look at you properly.

"You got a little fucking greedy there for a minute.. didn't you?"

He bites his bottom lip for a second, nervously chewing on the inside of it as he debates what answer he could give that would result in the least amount of punishment from you.

"Did you hear what I said?" you whisper coldly, taking a step closer to him as your hand grazes against the erection standing proudly in his underwear.

His body automatically jolts forward, and he lets out a shaky breath as his brow twitches. "Yeah.. I did.." he huffs out.

You smirk, wrapping your hand around him over the dark blue fabric, "And what do you think, hm? Were you being greedy?"

He looks deep into your eyes, his lips parting as he feels you start to stroke him. He tries to stop it, but his hips start to shallowly buck against your grasp, and now he can't get any words out. He wants to, but he just.. he really can't.

You roll your eyes.

"You know what I want you to say, honey. Use that big brain of yours."

He moans softly, his hands coming up to hold the sides of your upper arms as his eyes grow lidded.

"I'm.. I was being greedy.. I'm greedy," he moans lowly, thrusting into your hand a bit quicker and with a tad bit more abandon.

"Yeah, yeah you are. You're a greedy little whore for this, aren't you?"

He nods slowly but repeatedly as his brows pinch together and his breathing picks up.

"Yesss," he says brokenly, his voice straining a little as his moans start to become whimpers and whines, "I'm.. s' greedy for you.. jus' for you.. mm..!"

You nod and smirk up at him as his face becomes pinker and pinker, "That's it, pretty boy.. good job. You like when I stroke your pretty cock?"

He lets out an obscenely loud moan as his abdomen curls in over itself a bit, his hands gripping the sleeves of your work top and pulling helplessly at the fabric as he feels a spurt of precome burst into the inside of his boxers.

You chuckle a little as you watch him visibly get closer to his climax, but then he suddenly releases the hold on one of your sleeves and urgently grabs the hand that's moving over his clothed length.

You look down to where his hand holds yours, and he lets out a filthy whimper as he pulls your touch off of him and then urgently pushes your hand past his waistband and down into the front of his boxers. You gasp at his seemingly impulsive actions, feeling your fingers finally come into contact with his slicked-up cockhead. Your fingertips just barely brush over his hot, leaking slit.. sliding over a thick glob of pre.. and then he's being sent over the edge. To the average person, the touch would be essentially imperceptible, but not to him.. not to Art. He was just far too sensitive.

Your husband lets out a startled cry as he doubles over your frame in front of him and frantically moans, his whole body trembling and tensing as his balls draw up, "I'm cumming!"

You don't even have time to really process what's happening until you feel your hand being covered in warm fluid, the substance dripping down your fingertips as Art basically comes untouched. You look up at him, dumbfounded, before you feel your abdomen grow warm and tingly. That was kinda.. hot?

"Jesus, baby," you whisper breathlessly as his hips jolt a few more times before stilling as he gulps air down into his lungs, "didn't realize you were that worked up.. that was a little quick, no?"

He moans softly, still feeling your fingers graze him inside of his boxers.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.." he says, his breathing hitching in his throat as he tries to get the words out in spite of the pleasure still thrumming through his veins. He was still rock hard.

You smile, quickly using your clean, opposite hand to pull his boxers down to his lower thighs. His length slaps up lightly against his stomach before bobbing out in front of him, a tiny pearl-like bead of cum still leaking from his tip. He sighs shakily as he looks down at himself, and then up at you. You wrap your cum-covered hand around the base of his shaft, causing Art to jerk forward from sensitivity. He pulls a sharp breath in, his face scrunching up a little as he tries to control his body.

"I'll let you cum again," you start, watching his eyes light up, "but! you need to give me a warning this next time, okay? I want a clear warning, love."

He nods at your words, a more serious expression plastering over his face, "I will, I promise.. I.. I can give you a proper warning, ma'am.." he whispers.

And with that, you slide your hand from his base to his tip in one smooth motion, your thumb gliding over the head.

"GAH-!" he shudders forward, hissing in pain for a moment before he starts to moan again.

"You okay? Can you handle this?" you ask, your tone soft but seductive as you try to tease him but also legitimately check in. You two were always good at looking out for the other's wellbeing during your sessions together; the exchange of love and tender-care came easily to you both-- it was never something either of you had to question.

He nods, "Yeah, yes-ss, I can t-take it.." he slurs a little, watching your hand move up and down over his throbbing length.

"Look up into my eyes, darling," you purr, your hand starting to pick up speed, "does it feel good?"

He meets your eyes, his blue ones swimming with lust and desperation as he felt the beginnings of his second orgasm start to creep in, "Yes, fuck-! Yes! It feels so fucking good--!" he whines.

"Remember what we just talked about?"

He nods fervently, sucking his plump bottom lip in between his teeth as his focus darts from one of your eyes to the other. You speed up your hand, squeezing his shaft a little more to give him some pressure that you assume he needs.

He keens instantly, a loud moan rumbling from his chest as his thighs start to shake and his eyes squeeze shut.

"Art," you murmur in a seductive but warning tone.

He shakes all over, nodding his head, before his back stiffens up and he becomes incredibly tense. You keep your hand moving at the same fast pace, hoping his memory today is as good as his stamina.

"I'm going to cum," he whispers quickly, bringing his hands up to hold onto your shoulders as he pulls you closer.

You smile in approval, leaning in close to his ear and breathing warmly against his skin as you speak softly, "thank you for telling me, angel. do you want to cum for me?"

He nods, whining out a hasty "mhm". He lets out a breathy moan as he feels your hot words against his upper neck.

You press a chaste kiss there, and then you slide your hand up to gently grip his shaft while your thumb moves to rapidly swipe over his frenulum.

"Come."

And he does just that.

Art's back arches as soon as your one commanding word reaches his ears, cumming uncontrollably with an abrupt cry of pleasure. At first, his body is incredibly rigid as he lets go, his brows pinched up together as he feels the first, pulsing waves of his orgasm hit him, but then the full sensation of his release hits him and his whole body shudders deeply. He lets out little breathy moans and gasps as he relishes in the bursts of pleasure rolling over his cock. You slow your thumb down a bit as you watch him spurt rope after rope over your hand and onto the kitchen floor as he comes undone for you a second time.

"Fucking hell," you moan, now going back to stroking him fully instead of just rubbing a digit against his tip.

He grits his teeth in an instant, being pulled from his afterglow by the feeling of your hand forcing him back into a feeling of overstimulation. "Ah-! Ah!.. T-Too much, too much," he whimpers, his hands instinctively reaching down from your shoulders to push at your hand that's currently working him towards a third, uncomfortable orgasm that he's not even sure he wants anymore.

You use the hand that's not stroking him to move his hands away from your occupied one, giving him a small shake of your head.

"Hands behind your back, please. We're not done yet, okay?" you coo.

He quickly follows orders, moving both of his hands behind his back and away from his aching length, although not without letting out a sniffly whine of protest first.

"Please, ma'am.. I'm.. I can't do it I can't do it-- I'm-- AH!"

You cut off his soft moans of agony with a brief squeeze to the base of his dick, looking intently up into his eyes through your lashes.

"If you really want to stop, baby," you tilt your head teasingly, "you can always use the safeword, yeah?"

He bites his lip before he lets out a warped cry, his head lolling backwards in the same instant. You stop moving your hand.

"Art, darling," you whisper to him comfortingly.

He brings his head back upright to look down into your eyes, his face blank with pleasure; he almost looked drunk. His eyes were glazed over, his cheeks were pink, his hair was a mess, and his lips were parted to let out harsh little breaths of air as he tried to regain some semblance of being grounded in his own, ruined body.

You reach your free hand up to cup his jaw, brushing your thumb over the side of his face.

"Does it really hurt that bad? You know that you can be honest," you whisper, now a little concerned that maybe you pushed him too far.

He thinks for a moment before shaking his head slowly and swallowing a bit of drool that he realized has been collecting in his mouth for the past minute or so, "N-Just a little.." he breathes out.

You nod, giving him one soft stroke of his come-covered cock. He gasps and his torso jolts at the sensation, faint tears springing to his eyes.

"Sorry, sorry," you hum, "should we stop here then? I think maybe that would be best for you.. you've already done so well for me.."

The latter half of your sentence, that subtle bit of praise, gives him all the motivation he needs to want to unravel again.

He looks down at his still-hard cock, and then back up at you, and shakes his head. His tongue pokes out over his bottom lip and wets it as he tries to collect his thoughts.

"No.. no, I can do- I can go again, ma'am.. I pro-promise.." he slurs out, thrusting up into your hand.

You raise a skeptical brow at him and his movements, keeping your hand still.

"Are you sure? You know that I won't be upset with you if you want to stop, Art."

He shakes his head again, his lip trembling, "Please."

You smile softly and start to move your hand up and down over his cock again. Despite his previous indications that it was painful, the feeling has now seemed to morph back into unfiltered pleasure as he lets out a high-pitched moan of your name. He babbles endlessly, a mixture of pleas for more, letting out repetitive mumblings of "feels good", and "yes", and an assortment of stuttered expletives.

It doesn't take long for Art to get close again.

"I think 'm gonna come again," he mumbles, letting his eyes fall shut as his head slumps forward against your shoulder. You stroke him quicker, focusing on his hypersensitive tip as you feel a drip of precome come out.

"Oh? You want to come again?" you tease coyly.

You could be cruel sometimes. He had known that this part was coming eventually.

He shakes his head against the crook of your neck with a whine, "don't do this, please.."

You stop your hand at the base of his cock, halting his orgasm just as his load started to rise up his length. Art bites back an obscenely loud moan of protest that is dying to be let out..

"No, no no noo," he squirms against you, repetitively shaking his head as his face remains buried in your neck.

"You know what you need to do, darling."

"Please," he moans, "let me come.."

"You want to come?"

"Yes."

"You do?"

"YES..!"

"How should I make you come?"

"Can y- keep stroking my- I want my cock to be- I-" he mumbles incoherently.

You place your free hand on the back of his head, pushing your fingers pleasurably into his hair as he trembles against you.

"You want me to keep jerking you off? Hm?"

"Y-Yes-ss!" he moans out brokenly, using every bit of restraint within himself to resist the urge to move his hands from behind his back and relieve his aching parts.

He would never do that, though.. no matter how much he wanted to. He would always follow your wants and needs first. Those were most important to him.

"Ask me for what you need again. Nicely; just the way I like it."

"Please, can I come?"

"Again."

He whines, his hips involuntarily bucking up against your stilled hand wrapped around him.

"Please," he sobs, "can I please come for you?"

"Yes, honey, you can come."

You start to stroke his cock once again, and within just a few pumps Art is releasing again. Even though you can't see them because his face is still in your shoulder, his eyes roll all the way to the back of his head as he lets out a couple pitiful squirts of white, sticky liquid over your hand. "Ooh, that's it.. good boy.. are you my pretty little slut?"

When Art hears this, he isn't exactly sure what happens, but it's like the orgasm that's already halfway finished just completely starts over.

"Ohh my fucking- oh my god-dd-! Ugh! HNGH-!"

It's like every single nerve ending in his body is lighting up at once, and he can't do a damn thing about it.. he can't stop it...

His legs nearly go limp underneath him, and he has to lean further into you to prevent himself from collapsing.

Art then releases the most pornographic moans you've ever heard and tenses up in your hold all over again. You're not really sure what's happening until he--

"I'm cumming again! I'm cumm-m-ing-! Again! Ohmyfucking--! GOD!"

He whines and sobs against your body, his arms still held behind his back as you feel his cock jump and pulse in your hand again. This time, nothing comes out. It's odd because it's clear that he's cumming for a fourth time, but there's nothing to show for it.

You slow your hand but continue to stroke his length which is now covered in the creamy-white filth of his previous loads. His cock softens a little, but you're unsure when his orgasm ends because, again, nothing is coming out.

Art's frame suddenly begins to jerk around every time your hand brushes over his tip, and he lets out a hiss of discomfort through his gritted teeth and a sniffle afterwards. As soon as you hear that, you know he's done and you quickly remove your hand. Any extra stimulation and he'd genuinely start to cry. You could save that for another time.. if he wanted you to.

You move your other hand from his hair to his clothed upper back and rub small, comforting circles over it.

"I've got you," you whisper, "you did such a good job, baby. You just came dry for me."

He nods, sniffling wetly and exhaustedly.

You continue to rub his back for a minute or so in silence as he comes back down to earth; the pleasurable waves of his release's aftershocks allowing him to bask in the ebb and flow of it all as he tries to calm his ragged breathing.

"I feel weak," he groans softly.

You nod, "I'm right here, you're okay.. take some deep breaths for me, honey."

He nuzzles deeper against your neck and sighs contentedly, the fuzziness in his head starting to dissipate with your caring words and gentle touch.

"You're my good boy," you whisper, pressing your cheek against the side of his head.

"Mhmm," he hums, "always for you."

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆.

notes; WOAH. ok. so this has been like months in the making by now i think..? but i finally finished it :D thank u so much to everyone who has been patiently/loyally waiting for this one after i teased it for over a month on this blog 😭 + thank u to anyone who gave me some kind words of encouragement when i had to put this aside for a while. i luv u guys !! <3

reblogs are always allowed + appreciated!

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peppermintquartz · 26 days

Text

Tommy is drinking alone at his and Evan's usual table, waiting for his boyfriend who says he is meeting an old friend, when he notices a handsome dark-haired man walk in. He's wearing a light khaki jacket over a dark brown v-neck tee, all over faded black jeans and hiking boots. Tommy doesn't mean to stare, but when a good-looking stranger appears in his line of sight, he's not going to pretend he isn't appreciative.

The man must've felt Tommy's observation, because his gaze locks in. There's a querying smile on his face, an eyebrow ticking up, and Tommy replies with a faint smile and a slight shake of his head.

To Tommy's surprise, the stranger walks over and takes the seat opposite Tommy. Tommy leans back into his seat, putting some distance between them. "I don't know you, do I?"

"Nah," says the man. "But you're the only friendly face I noticed when I came in, so I figured it would be less awkward to sit here than to stand in the middle of the room, looking for my friend."

He sounds like he may be from Texas, but that isn't a guarantee that he isn't living in Los Angeles - LA is the city holding people from everywhere, an amalgamation of strangers.

Bemused, Tommy scans the man again, and relaxes slightly when he notices a ring on the stranger's left hand.

"Here alone?" Tommy asks.

The man chuckles quietly. "Only for a couple of days while my husband sorts out some admin issues back home. You?"

"Waiting for my boyfriend," Tommy says. "He's supposed to be here already, but he probably got caught in traffic."

"Ugh, driving in this city is a nightmare." The stranger waves down a waiter and places an order for a whisky, neat as well as fancy branded water. "So thankful for Uber. I can't picture having to drive these streets every day."

"I like driving outside of the city," says Tommy. If he were single, he would have offered to show this handsome man some scenic views. As it is, he smiles politely and asks, "Is your friend coming soon?"

"Hopefully! I mean, all I've got is 'I'm on the way, go in first'." The man rolls his eyes. "Can't I hang here till he shows? I like having someone to chat with while waiting. I wouldn't seem so pathetic."

"Maybe we can help you get a table nearby." Tommy doesn't want to sound rude, but he is not risking Evan thinking he is flirting with another guy.

The man tilts his head and scrutinizes Tommy. "You're a good boyfriend," he remarks. "If you'd flirted with me at all, I'd have told Buck to drop you like a hot potato."

Tommy blinks in confusion and then realization. "You're the Texas TK!"

"And you're the LA edition," TK replies with a broad grin. He offers a hand and Tommy shakes it firmly. "Buck's always boasting about you. You do look a lot hotter in person, and the photo Buck sent was plenty hot already."

With an embarrassed duck of his head, Tommy says, "He always sends that one to people, I don't know why."

"Showing off, obviously." TK holds his phone to the side and his front camera is on. "Alright, smile for a we-fie. I'm gonna let Buck know I'm already here charming his man. Maybe that'll get him to teleport." He snaps a quick shot of them both, and as he types a message, he asks, "What do you recommend for a hungry visitor?"

"Lasagne. Or the carbonara, that's quite good too." Tommy slides the menu across.

Just as TK is deciding what he wants for appetizers, Evan materializes next to the table.

"I'm glad you think you can charm my boyfriend," he says, eyes twinkling, as he hugs TK and then sits beside Tommy, kissing him on the cheek, adding, "You are the best TK, by the way."

"Best?" TK asks.

Tommy shrugs. "Third one's an ex-girlfriend."

"So... Could have been, was, and is?" TK winks at Evan. "You appear to have a type, Buckley."

Evan blushes and takes the whiskey from TK's side of the table. "Let's order."

#bucktommy #tk strand #tommy kinard #evan buckley #I'm just trying something #i genuinely couldn't recall if TK drank #i knew he has substance abuse issues #anyway pretend that was for Buck

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paradiseprincesss · 4 months

Note

Imagine Jackson Rippner with an innocent gf with Stockholm syndrome that just absolutely adores and loves him and trusts him completely and is very affectionate

human - jackson rippner x reader

masterlist

notes: im working diligently on all my other requests guys i promise!!

summary: you develop stockholm syndrome after you were kidnapped five months ago, and you become hopelessly devoted to your captor.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: mdni 18+, [DUB-CON], smut, p in v, kidnapping, guns, knives, stockholm syndrome obviously

it had been nearly five months since you went missing. nobody knew where you had gone, and there had been a manhunt for you ever since you disappeared. your friends and family were grief stricken - everybody was. a young, promising, beautiful woman going missing after her morning jog; nobody saw it coming.

your city was a relatively safe place to live in, there was very little crime in that specific area. however, when jackson touched down in your city for a two day layover whilst he was heading home from a mission, you'd caught his eye. he didn't even think twice about it - he knew right then and there he wanted to keep you as his.

as soon as he got to his hotel, he grabbed a knife and shoved it into his pocket. he returned to the neighbourhood that he had passed on the way to his hotel; the same one he saw you jogging in. with high hopes that you were still there, he walked around the area with his eyes peeled. to his delight, he was correct - you were still going for your jog outside in the fresh, vibrant, morning sunlight.

it was a shame, though. the trail by your home that you were jogging in just happened to have a lot of greenery by it. trees, branches, tall bushes, you name it. luckily for jackson, this made what he was about to do a hell of a lot easier. you were oblivious - headphones in and jogging peacefully down the trail in broad sunlight. "what if someone were to ambush her?" he thought to himself, "she should really be more careful."

in just mere seconds, he pounced.

he grabbed your neck from behind, choking you with your back towards him. he slammed your neck onto his chest, fingers wrapped tightly around your throat, and he tore your phone and headphones away from you as he threw them into a nearby bush. steadily, he held his other hand up to your throat with the cold, metal blade of the knife pushing into the side of your neck - for good measure.

"don't fucking scream," he said lowly into your ear, "behave. if you don't, i'll slice your throat open right here, right now."

you could barely even whimper out a response, as the vice he had around your throat was strong enough to cut off your ventilation. you tried to respond, but you couldn't articulate any words due to the way he was choking you.

"scream and i'll kill you." he threatened once more, loosening his grip on your throat so that you could breathe again.

with heavy, gasping, heaving breaths, you slump your head against his shoulder as your vision became spotty and you started to experience severe vertigo. he chuckled lowly as he held you against his chest, the blade of the knife sitting right against your jugular vein. he could slice you open right now if he wanted to - and you'd have no choice but to lay there as you bled out and the blood supply to your atrium slowly stilled, leaving you lifeless and limp.

he thought about it, but he wasn't going to do that to you. how could he make you his little doll if you were dead? exactly.

he directed you to keep walking until you flagged down a cab together. he kept the knife out of sight, but you knew he wouldn't hesitate to stab you. he then brought you to his hotel, and you went up to his room with him where he proceeded to hold you at knifepoint and at gunpoint - just in case you got any ideas. this way, you knew even if he didn't have the knife in his hand, he could put a bullet in any one of your arteries at any given moment.

your fear silenced you as you boarded a plane back to his home state, and that is the story of how you ended up in his home in the suburbs. you learned all about what he did for a living from there on, and you couldn't believe that a highly trained assassin was just living in the suburbs amongst everybody else; blending in. i guess it's true what they say; that the average person walks past at least thirty-six murderers in their lifetime unknowingly - or whatever the statistic was.

he'd kept you in his house for months, never letting you step foot outside. sure, he let you open the windows for some fresh air after a few weeks of you sobbing and hyperventilating, but he kept a gun pointed at you the whole time. the first couple weeks were the worst - you were constantly having breakdowns, anxiety attacks, and you were suffering from major depression.

you missed your family, and jackson taunted you by showing you articles and news reports about your disappearance. you just sobbed for weeks after that, and you thought you might die from the anxiety and depression that was slowly eating away at you. then you hit the two month mark. things started to feel less real. you weren't sure if you were slowly dying or just losing touch with reality, perhaps both.

days went by quicker, and your mind was becoming numb. it stayed that way until around ten weeks ago. your behaviour did a 180, but jackson wasn't convinced at first. you started to become unhealthily attached to him, clinging to him every chance you got. you would breakdown if he left for even thirty minutes at a time, and you'd run into his arms every time he came back. you started to beg him to hold you at night and sleep in the same bed as you (of course he didn't say no to that).

he was still on the fence about the whole stockholm syndrome act until you started to beg him to fuck you. at that point, he knew you weren't faking. he wanted to ruin you for the last five months, but he couldn't do it because every time he tried to force himself onto you, you'd put up one hell of a fight. you would scratch him, bite him, hit him, thrash around - the list just goes on. as much as jackson wanted to tie you up and force you to take him as he fucked you senseless, he wasn't going to do that. you were too innocent for that...far too innocent. you deserved to be fucked properly.

so, when you started to beg him to, he jumped at the opportunity. he wanted to destroy you - and he did.

"i love you," you whimpered as jackson forced your head down into the pillows, "i love you so much."

"fuuuuck," he groaned as he pounded his cock deeper into your cunt as you were ass up face down in the bed for him, "such a tight pussy, mm, love you too."

it felt like you were suffocating in the pillows, but that was okay because as long as jackson was happy, you were happy. you don't know why you put up a fight for so long; he was clearly the one for you. you couldn't see it for a little while, but now you were seeing straight again. he fucked you good, fed you well, and treated you like a princess.

sure, at first he held you at gunpoint and threatened to stab you on multiple occasions, but that was your fault. you were the one who disobeyed him and wanted to leave him, so he had no choice. he was doing this all for you because he loved you. you understood that now, and you were determined to be the perfect girlfriend for him. jackson told you that you were his forever. he told you that you were his little angel and that he'd make you his wife soon.

"o-oh, mmph!" you moaned into the pillow as he plowed your soaking cunt.

"yeah, you like that baby?" he grunted as his cock brushed up against your cervix, "are you gonna cum?"

"y-yes, so close!" you whined as he continued to fuck your cunt at a deeper angle, rearranging your insides with every stroke.

you felt yourself leaking down your own thighs, and he groaned at the sight of your slick, glistening cunt as it sucked his cock in with ease. you felt yourself tip over the edge and he continued to pound that same spot inside you over and over. your legs trembled as the clear liquid poured onto the mattress, leaving you a shaking, moaning mess.

jackson continued to fuck you brutally, chasing his own release. "jesus, babygirl," he groaned, "did you just fucking squirt? fuck, that's so hot."

after a few more thrusts, he groaned lowly and you felt his cock pulsing inside of your aching core as he spilled his cum into you. after a moment, he pulled out, watching as his cum dripped out of your pussy.

"that's pretty, stay still for one second," he said softly, and you heard a click and saw a flash of bright light, "so hot, babygirl. you can lay down now."

you did as you were told, and you saw him holding up a camera in his hands. he did this more often then you'd liked, but you didn't complain. if he wanted to take pictures, you'd let him.

jackson did this so that if you ever got the idea to leave or escape, he would blackmail you into staying, but you didn't need to know that. you were too stupid and fucked out all the time to think too deeply about it.

and that's how he liked it. he would come home and fuck you good - so good that you would forget what you were thinking about, and he'd spoil you after he brutally pounded all your holes. he'd buy you expensive gifts and come home with dozens of roses because he loved you in his own twisted, fucked up way. he even started to take you travelling with him because at this point, he knew you were too far in. you were in way too deep, and you didn't want to leave him.

hell, he even threatened to leave you to see what you would do, but you threw a major fit and started to sob uncontrollably. he learned never to do that again because you'd cried for about forty-eight hours straight. jackson gave you everything you wanted, and in return, you gave him your mind, body, and soul.

sure, everyone thought you went missing from right outside your house and that you had most likely been murdered or that you were dead in a ditch somewhere. but you were happier than you ever were in your old life and jackson knew that. he was your home now - and there was no escaping it.

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hanniebaeee · 4 months

Text

Always You

Best friend's brother Lee Know x fem!reader

Warning: Just a bit of kissing.

Summary: You're in trouble and the first person you call is your best friend's brother, Minho.

Genre: fluff

Minho sat scrolling absent-mindedly through his phone as a movie played on the TV in the background. He was lonely and everyone he knew seemed to be busy. His best friends are out with their partners. His sister was on a date. He had no idea where you were. He wondered what you were up to. It's been a few weeks since you guys spoke and he missed you.

Placing the phone on his lap, he looked back at the tv and sighed. This is so boring.

He glanced down at his phone as it vibrated on his lap. His heart skipped a beat as your name flashed on the screen. He was quick to grab it, pressing it to his ear.

'Y/N?'

Your breathing wasn't right. You were stuttering and crying and he was on his feet, already moving out of the living room.

'Minho? Minho, oh my god!' You couldn't form words as your sobs took over.

'Y/N, where are you? Are you hurt?' Minho's questions were urgent as he was already out of his apartment, speed walking to his car.

'Minho, I don't know where I am. I'm so scared, can you please come and get me? Please?' You cry and his heart sank.

'Jagi, send me your location and sit tight, yeah? I'm on my way.' Minho said, waiting and looking at your location.

'Are you hurt? What happened?!' He asked, driving - already skipping a red light.

'I fell and I think I twisted my ankle... I'm not even dressed right, Minho. I'm, I'm -'

'It's ok. I'm on my way.' Minho said, trying to console you.

His heart was racing as he sped through to find you. You were his younger sister's best friend. Your family had moved to Korea when you were in middle school and you all grew up together. Being a foreigner had been hard and you did face some level of bullying and racism at school, but Minho and his sister, Hana had been your pillars of support. Minho was fiercely protective over you both and it never channged even as you got older.

You and Hana were still best of friends. Minho had moved out of his family home after college, but he did stay in the same city. You and Hana too worked nearby, so you all met every now and then. It's been a while now, and he couldn't help but feel a flood of emotions course through his body as he thought of you.

Minho has had a soft spot for you for years. Hana teased him endlessly for this. And he was sure that was a little in love with you. He tried his best to ignore these feelings as he didn't want to complicate your relationship. You were one of the nicest persons he knew - you were kind, you were so caring and loyal and above everything, you were always there.

Unknown to Hana, he called you whenever he felt like things were getting out of hand. On his most stressful days, he would ask you to come over, you would share a drink and hold his hand until his calmed down. Nothing more, nothing less. You gave him support. You gave him your time and your presence, no matter when he wanted it. And you never asked for more.

Minho looked at the map and saw that he was close. His eyes fell on your shivering form at the side of a secluded road. Stopping the car, he was out in an instant, making his way over to you.

'Y/N!'

Your head snapped up and you were crying harder at the sight of him. He was on his knees in front of you, hugging you tightly. Pulling back, he checked you for any injuries and then he saw you swollen ankle. You wore a navy blue sequined dress that fell to your mid thigh and heels - you never liked heels. You were way too clumsy on them. You shivered and Minho quickly draped his jacket over your exposed shoulders before helping you stand. You wince in pain and said, 'I don't think I can walk, Minho. I'm so sorry, I can't-'

You weren't even done talking, when he picked you up bridal style, making you gasp. After helping you into the passenger seat safely, Minho was driving again.

'What happened?' He asked.

'I had a fight with Lisa. She dragged me to a party and tried to set me up with her friend. She said some really mean things when I refused, she kinda forced me and...I said I wanted to go home, she agreed to drive, but then, ditched me in the middle of the road. We fought again and she kinda pushed me. These stupid heels-'

'What kind of friends do you keep Y/N?!' Minho scolded, glaring at you. 'Why wasn't Hana aware of this?'

'Hana had plans, I didn't want to bother her' You said sadly.

'Its just a date Y/N. You always come first.' Minho said.

'Im sorry Minho. My dad is out of town and if my parents ever knew, they would never let me out of the house again. You know them... Yours was the only face that came to my mind when -' You pull at your dress self-consciously, trying to cover your thighs as much as possible.

You fall silent and Minho looks at you for a second before his eyes are back on the road. His heart fluttered at the thought. He was the only one you thought of. He placed a hand on your knee, patting gently.

'I'm sorry i got mad. I was so worried when you called crying. I don't even know how I got here.' Minho said with a sigh. 'How does the ankle feel?'

'It's ok, Lino.' You said, and smile as you see a small smile on his face. 'My ankle hurts though.'

He takes you straight to the emergency room, where you get your ankle looked at and bandaged. He carried you to the car even though you told him a hundred times that you can just take a wheelchair. Then he takes you to his apartment, and orders some food.

You sit on his sofa, watching him plate up the food and hand your plate to you. You eat in silence, his eyes not leaving you.

'What?' You ask, feeling the heat creep up your neck.

'Why was Lisa trying to set you up with some random guy?' Minho asked, eyebrows furrowed.

'She's like that. She thinks I don't date anyone 'coz I can't get a date on my own.' You said, chewing on your food. 'She can't wrap her head around the fact that maybe I don't want to, you know.'

'Why don't you want to?' Minho asked, keeping his plate on the coffee table and turning to face you.

'I just-' You contemplate whether it's safe to say the truth or not. 'Lino, you know why.'

'I do?' Minho asked, and you know he does. He just didn't want to acknowledge anything.

'Don't you?' You ask, tilting your head in question. 'After all this time?'

'I need to hear you say it.' Minho said, moving closer.

'Why won't you say it?' You ask, your heart hurting at his avoidance. 'Don't I come running anytime you need me? I'm always here aren't I? You've always known. Since high school, Lino.'

'Y/N-'

'Don't tell me that you don't think about that camping trip. If you pretend that it didn't happen, it won't go away.' You say, tears blurring your vision.

You were in your first year of college and you had gone on a camping trip with Hana and Minho. The siblings went on to fight throughout the day and by nighttime, Hana refused to even sleep in the same tent. But they literally had no other option, so you offered to sleep in the middle to which they reluctantly agreed. Late into night, you heard sniffling and turned to face Minho, who was in tears.

'Lino, what happened?' You whispered, moving closer to him.

'Hana thinks I'm not a good brother. My father thinks I'm not a good son. Im just a fucking failure-'

'Yah, what are you even talking about?!' You asked, pulling your hand out from under your blanket to wipe at his tears. 'Hana just wanted to win the fight. You know that.'

'They keep doing this. They keep telling me I'm not good enough!'

'Lino, you're good enough. More than good actually. People say mean things just to ruffle you when you're right. I'm sure they don't even mean it. Don't you trust me?' You asked, cupping his cheek with your hand. 'You're the best.'

Minho wiped the tears off his face and opened his arms.

'Can we cuddle?' He asked. 'Please?'

You stare at him, surprised. You've never done this before. But you nod and settle underneath his blanket, your back presses to his chest. He makes a cocoon with the blanket around you, his arms tight around you. Sleep comes almost immediately in his warm embrace. But late into the night, you turn around in your sleep, and open your eyes as your nose touched his.

He opens his eyes too, both your faces so close - noses touching, lips so so close. His eyes drop to your lips and his arms around you tighten, pulling you as close as humanly possible. You let it happen - his lips are so soft and warm and gentle on yours.

'It's so fucking hot!' Hana's loud voice had you both jumping apart. Minho turned to the other side, breathing heavily and you remained silent as Hana sat up and tossed her jumper to the side. The next morning, the siblings apologized and made up. You and Minho never spoke of this incident after that day. But you both knew that deep down, you were both in love.

'I was afraid' Minho said, slowly. 'I didn't even know if you wanted to kiss me back. I felt like I had just done it and you didn't even have a chance to push me away. And then Hana woke up and-'

'You're an idiot if you thought I didn't want that.' You said, shaking your head. 'If I felt violated that day, I won't be here every time you wanted my company, Minho.'

Minho nodded and sighed.

'I don't want to ruin anything, Y/N. Hana loves you a lot and I can't-'

'Hana knows that I like you, you pabo.' You said and he stared at you like you had sprouted horns.

'She doesn't mind, does she?.' Minho said.

'Oh no, she loves the idea of us together.' You said, wanting to laugh at how clueless he could be sometimes.

'Why do you both always torture me like this?' Minho asked, running a hand over his face.

'Because you think you're too rough and tough, but you're just a cute little idiot.'

'Right. Good reason to torture someone.'

You shrug.

'So, what happens now?' You ask.

Minho looked at you, and his mind and heart were both very clear about one thing - he wasn't going to let you slip out of his hands again. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

'I'm gonna love you. We have wasted a lot of time, baby. I'm not gonna sit here and waste anymore.'

Your eyes shine with happy tears as he hugs you and kisses you.

'I love you, Lino.' You mumbled against his neck. 'Never letting you go.'

'I love you more, jagi' he said, placing little kisses on the top of your head. He carries you to his bedroom and helps you get changed into some of Hana's pyjamas. You couldn't help but smile as he climbed into bed and settled down beside you. He kissed you more until you were both too tired and fell asleep in each other's arms.

Hana: Why didn't you call me?!

Hana: wtf Y/N!

Hana: where the hell are you?!

Y/N: yah, calm down

Y/N: I'm ok, at Lino's now

Hana: what are you doing there this early in the morning?

Hana: Y/N L/N

Y/N: Hana please

Hana: Did you guys talk?? Did you guys...?

Hana: Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes

Y/N: HANA.

Hana: where is that pabo

Y/N: sleeping

Hana: together, I hope

Hana: ew ew ew

Y/N: shut up

Y/N: are you coming over?

Hana: Sure. Be decent please.

Hana: Don't be gross in front of me.

Y/N: We'll be gross. Don't come - your brother.

Y/N: go away

Hana: oh my god, ew

Hana: disgusting

Hana: ��🤮

Y/N: be here for breakfast

Hana: You're mine first. Don't forget.

Y/N: of course

Y/N: love you❤

Hana: love you more ❤

a/n : I haven't done this in a long time and I'm soo happy to be writing again! I have like 9000 things in my drafts rn 😭 Feedback is much appreciated❤

#lee know #lee know fluff #lee know x reader #lee know x you #lee know x y/n #lee know x female reader #lee minho #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #lee minho x y/n #lee minho fluff #lee minho imagines #skz #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you

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haerni · 5 months

Text

OH MY GOD, “who is he? ”

summary: feels like you’re fallin’ deeper & maybe you’re going crazy, right? does he want you or not? he’s so confusing!

ft. park sunghoon (based on ‘OMG’ by newjeans!)

content: fem! reader, tooth-rotting fluff, a lil bit of hurt comfort, sunghoon is that confusing guy, mutual pining, reader is a bit embarrassing i think? sunoo your support system! 1.8k words

— very very minimal proofread and editing bc ive only done this in one sitting (help me).

( 🍃 ) notes: this took me so long omfgsbks but here we are with my very first content on this blog, please be nice TT sunghoon might be ooc saur.. theres that! can u tell i love sunoo, i have to sneak him in. maybe the story will jump for awhile so sorry for that also.

you've probably liked PARK SUNGHOON for almost half of your life.

ever since he sat with you at the swing from the park you used to go to when you were kids and offering his own comfort when you were crying on that day, to this day forward when he offers his shoulder for you to cry on.

he never questions the reasons behind your cries, he never pushes and all he does is sit there and offer you whispers of solace that you take to heart.

because your best friend wouldn't want the worst for you.

because all he does is care for you.

and maybe—just maybe—you hate him a little for it, for doing things that make your heart flutter, for simply just touching your hair and pulling you closer hoping that it will quell the sadness that consumes you. or when he would walk with you home after his practice despite being tired and run down to the bones, he would never miss a day. or when he would call you such sweet things like you are together when you aren't.

or when one time he heard through jay how someone was making passes on you and disgusting comments about you, he comes home with a bruised lip and wounded knuckles. he refused to let you see him, not until you forced your way to his room with the first aid kit his mother let you borrow, because he also wouldn't let her treat him.

or when you can't even pretend to be okay in the sea of bodies in a party and he notices right away. he drags you by your hand and drags you out of the party without a care for anyone. he only tells you that he hates the party and would rather eat out in a convenience store nearby.

he holds your hand tightly, you knew that night you loved park sunghoon more than you could ever imagine.

a decade into your friendship, you fell in love with your best friend, park sunghoon.

you did your best to hide it, to keep these emotions at bay and lock away into the very bottom of your heart. you swallow the bubbling feeling in your throat whenever he's close. you did your very best to preserve the relationship the both of you built together. even if all you wanted was just ruin it and become something more.

loving park sunghoon was easy, it was easy as the breeze that touched your hair, it was easy as falling into a routine of living and looking forward to days when he's with you. the prospect of loving sunghoon comes naturally and you don't know how to stop it. it just grows more everyday and suddenly you find yourself in garden of flowers blossoming in your heart, so much that's its starting to flow out little by little and you're slipping, you're heart is becoming unguarded, the walls you've spent all your life building is chipping away slowly.

it's becoming suffocating, it's hard to breathe around him.

the passing touches, the stolen glances and brief silence has been occurring more and more.

it's only a matter of time, before someone catches on. unfortunately, that time is right now.

"what's with you and sunghoon, lately?" your friend, sunoo asks, "did you guys have a fight?"

a second passes before you answer him, "we did not. why do you ask?"

sunoo sits closer to you and puts his face on his palm, "you have been avoiding him."

you stopped, "no, i'm not."

"it's lunch and you're sitting here with me in the library, working on an assignment that's not due until next week, when you usually never miss eating when he comes by our room to eat with you." he pointed out.

too specific. were you that predictable? and when you don't answer sunoo realizes something. when his eyes widen too much for your comfort that's when you interject from whatever train of thought he had.

"or maybe—"

"i don't know what you are talking about, sunoo."

"you're avoiding him.."

"i already told you, i'm not—!"

"sure, keep telling yourself that." sunoo snorts at that, "i know you like him and not how a best friend should."

you can't breathe again, you were absolutely done for. because sunoo was right, he got the answer right and you couldn't find it in yourself to quip back at him. you can't find it in yourself to deny and brush it off, because it's simply not real, it's not what your heart is telling you. maybe, that was your last straw.

maybe that was all it needed for you to let out your heart just for once and face the reality.

you don't want sunghoon as a best friend.

the realization hits harder when someone utters it out, because you have lived all your life hiding and suddenly, it pours out like rain after a long unending drought.

now here you are. in the porch of your house under the moonlight with you encased in sunghoon's arms, because you were stupid enough to go out and try to forget about him, to go see other people and hope that you can lose all these feelings you have for him. it didn't, maybe it never will. a boy, somehow he's the same height and stature as sunghoon it was enough for you to agree for a dinner out.

it was stupid to begin with. you didn't even know this guy's name (you can't even bother to remember). because while you sat there and tried to engage with him, your mind drifted far on how he does not have the same moles as sunghoon, he does not make you laugh like sunghoon does, maybe he would've took you out to that ramen place you always go to after a long day instead of this fancy restaurant that you don't even know. quite sure enough that guy only talked about himself, you didn't listen.

"so are we going?" he gives you an all-knowing smile and as you try to turn him down a voice comes in.

"she's not going with you." you look behind, and there he stands one hand in his pocket wearing a white button-up shirt that you haven't seen before, a cold gaze accompanying it and his hair done all too perfectly—like he was on a date.

"hey! who do you think you are?" sunghoon ignores him as he offers his hand to you. tilting his head in question. you did not hesitate to grab it. it's almost a curse for him to know when you need him the most.

you can feel the heat rising up in your body as he intertwines both of your hands and gives it a squeeze.

he brings you home, like how he promised your dad when you were sixteen.

you bite your lips in hopes of suppressing all the emotions running down on you. but you can't really do that in front of sunghoon, can you?

you broke down.

and sunghoon was there—it was enough. it was enough for everything to pour out.

"i'm tired, hoon." his arms tighten around you, burying his face to your hair, almost as if he's kissing it in comfort.

you're tired? is it because of that guy? should he beat him up? you wouldn't like it anyway, so he erase the thought. park sunghoon has never hated anyone more than that jerk right now. he curses that stupid guy who made you like this.

"i hate you park sunghoon."

"you don't mean that."

you don't.

"i really really hate you." you were probably the worst to utter such words to him. to your best friend, to sunghoon out of all people. but you can't stop. "you're so stupid, stupid."

it takes him back, he didn't expect for you to be mad at him. he's silent for a moment as he continues to hold you like you're going to disappear.

"how am i stupid, baby?" there he goes again with those stupid nicknames.

you refuse to look at him, burying your face to his nape. and when you don't answer he talks for you.

"do you hate me that much for you not to look at me?" you really hate park sunghoon.

he sighs at the lack of your response. he shakes his head before he turns his face closer to your ear, "what am i gonna do, baby? you hate me, but i like you so much."

what? what the fuck?

that makes you widen your eyes processing what he just said as you sit up straight and facing him. and it makes him laugh a little, he probably shouldn't, but he couldn't help it. not when you're this adorably looking at him like you can't believe it.

"don't joke about things like that park sunghoon!"

wow, using his government name? "you don't believe me?" you don't answer. "why do you think i came to that awful restaurant wearing this shirt?" you knew it was new, you've never seen him wear it.

"because you want to fit it?" you answer.

"that too," he laughs, "and because you didn't eat lunch with me, you didn't walk home with me. i heard from sunoo, that you were out with someone and you didn't dress up because of me. you were on a date and it wasn't me. you were avoiding me, baby."

he looks at you and it hurts because both of you are a fucking idiot. all this time, sunghoon liked you.

park sunghoon likes you.

"how long?" and you can't help it, you have to know.

he thinks for a second, "hm.. since when you were on that swing? i thought you were pretty." he smiles so easily.

oh my god.

you buried your face once more, not really knowing what to do, because for the longest time you thought you were the only one feeling this way.

but sunghoon understands, he continues to talk, "jay thinks i'm obsessed with you. he's not wrong, you know? you don't have to say anything right now, i know you're having a har—"

you kissed him. park sunghoon is really an idiot. how can you not like him? how can anyone not even like him? he's so stupid. sunghoon's eyes widen a bit, but melts into your touch as quickly.

god, was this really happening? please don't ever wake him up if this is a dream.

you pulled away for a breather and he reached for another one causing you to block his lips with your hand.

feeling the blood in your cheeks, flustered as sunghoon kisses your palm instead. his hand coming up to yours to remove it.

"can i kiss you again?" you were going to die, "please?" you're sure of it.

"no!"

sunghoon laughs at that. you can't feel it, but his cheeks are really hurting now from smiling. maybe one day you'll let him kiss you more, but for now this is enough.

he has loved you almost all of his life.

𖹭 likes and reblogs are highly appreciated! i hope he is not too out of character :')

#sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #park sunghoon x reader #enhypen sunghoon x reader #enhypen sunghoon #sunghoon imagines #enhypen #sunghoon #park sunghoon #( 🌟 ) HAE created a new post !

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scr11bles · 18 days

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kms. just thinking about Ghost coming home to (roommate! reader) after months of deployment..

cw: fluff :3

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Ghost's boots felt heavier than usual as he treks up the stairs to your shared flat in the middle of the night, heavy duffel bag strung over his shoulder seemingly weighing heavier than normal as he pulls out the keys of his jeans to unlock the door. Good girl, he idly thinks, you had a habit of keeping it unlocked until he came along and started to live with you, so he couldn't deny the metaphorical praise he gave to you in his mind for heeding his warnings and remembering to lock the goddamn door.

The lieutenant cracks open the door and walks inside, frowning beneath his mask as the dirt on the bottom of his boots flake off onto the hardwood flooring of the foyer hallway. Ghost keeps his movements light despite his fatigue, the aforementioned action being deceivingly easy for a man of his stature. He decides to kick off his boots, the pressure alleviating from his ankles and the slightly lessened weight makes him groan softly before padding deeper into to the apartment before stopping in his tracks, weighing the idea of calling for you and possibly waking you up.

Before he even registers it, Ghost calls out your name softly into the darkness apartment, loud enough for you to hear if you were awake, but quiet enough that it would wake you up out of your usual sound sleeps. After a few quiet seconds with nothing but the ticking of a clock nearby he moves to take another step but stops when he hears the sound of padded footsteps racing down the hall. Ghost spins around just in time to see you emerge from the nearby hallway, watching as you turn on one of the lamps on a small end table and revealing his shadowy form to your eyes.

Seeing him after countless months, wondering if he was okay, how he was holding up, ate at you. You really hadn't expected to grow so fond of this emotionally distant and aloof masked man that decided to room with you after he realized there was no point in him owning a whole goddamn house or apartment. Against the dead quiet air in the room you murmur his name, and it stabs Ghost in the heart. The sound of your voice after so long causing a high to hit him that's better than any drag of a cigarette or sip of alcohol could provide him.

"Yeah, it's me lov-"

Before the endearing pet name escapes his lips he's cut off by the warmest hug you could offer, your arms wrapping around his wide torso while your hands grip the back of his hoodie in a death grip. Fuck, you really missed him that much, didn't you? Ghost stands still, his heart and mind stuttering before he wraps his arms around you as well, cradling the back of your head with one gloved hand and resting the other on the middle of your back. The two of you just stand there in the dim lighting of the room, the only sound now filling the apartment is the sound of slowed breathing coming from both of you, simply embracing each others presence. Surely there was nothing else to it, right? You just missed your good friend, Simon.

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hii guys... i'm so scared rn babies first tumblr post. please have mercy on my soul and tell me what you guys think! also, check out my pinned post to request a fic from my menu :3

thanks!!

- emile

#call of duty #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #modern warfare x reader

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mikasa-imadebiscults · 3 months

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Proposing and Wedding Headcannons | Hashira

(A/N- This is the Hashira when they propose to you and what their wedding would be like. Also this is GN! Reader)

(Characters Included- Uzui, Shinobu, Mitsuri, Rengoku, and Tomioka)

(Warning: Nothing, just fluff)

🔊Tengen Uzui🔊

- Uzui would talk to Hina, Makio, and Suma about it first to see what they think. Of course they were thrilled and asked when he was planning to ask the big question.

- He would take you four to a firework show and will propose to you during the flashiest part of the show. Like while he asks you to marry him, there is booming music and bright fireworks in the background.

- When you said yes, Suma was bawling, Makio was a bit annoyed at Suma’s loud crying but kept to herself to not ruin the moment, and Hina was tearing up a little bit at the happiness.

- After you guys planned the wedding, Uzui would visit Rengoku’s place and inform him of the news. He’ll then ask him to be his best man, which Rengoku happily accepted.

- The wedding will be hella flashy and everything will be all organized thanks to Hina.

- You already know that there will be music and tons of food. They do it big because it’s not every day that you’ll have a wedding.

- Suma, Makio, and Hina will insist on making the food since they are so good at cooking and efficient at it too.

You all will have the time of your lives, not worrying about a single thing.

🦋Kocho Shinobu🦋

- Shinobu would be confident that you will say yes but deep down she is a little nervous. In the morning, she will go to the shrine of her sister and tell her what she has planned and that she wishes that she could be there. Little does Shinobu know, her sister’s spirit is smiling down at her for finding happiness and a person that she can love.

- The both of you will be on the rooftop of the butterfly estate, looking at the moon and pointing out the different types of stars, feeling the cool breeze on your skin, soaking in this peaceful moment. She will take your hand and say a few romantic lines and would propose to you then and there, revealing a beautiful ring.

- For the wedding, she would let you decide where it’s at and she’ll make it happen. Though if you can’t make the decision and let her pick, she’ll pick a peaceful place. Somewhere that has a serene atmosphere.

- Only close friends and family would be invited, she wouldn’t want a lot of people there.

- Instead of that usual fake smile she would have on, it’ll be replaced by a real genuine smile, something that isn’t so common. She’ll be genuinely smiling for days, and that’s all thanks to you coming into her life.

🍡Kanroji Mitsuri🍡

- She will have the whole day planned out. Waking you up with breakfast and bed for the both of you, walking around talking and getting some small things from the shops nearby, going to a really good restaurant.

- Finally after the both of you ate dinner, you two will go back home talking about how much fun y’all had. Though she will be evidently nervous about what’s to come. You both will sit on the porch outside of her estate, watching the beautiful sunset until Mitsuri grabs your attention by getting all mushy about how much she loves you and blurts out the big question.

- Her face is redder than a strawberry out of utter embarrassment until you cup her cheeks to snap her out of it and say yes. Then happiness consumed her and tackled you into a big hug, making the both of you fall.

- She would ask her parents where they got married and would want to get married there if you’re okay with it.

- Of course she’ll invite all of her friends and family to the wedding, and yours too if you have any.

- When Obanai first heard the news he’ll go to you and tell (threaten) you that you better take care of her or else. You promise him that she’s in good hands with you and he nods his head. That promise you made him made Obanai approve of you.

- When the day comes and she’s saying her vows and you’re saying yours, she’ll be holding back happy tears. Her life couldn’t be any better.

🔥Kyojuro Rengoku🔥

- He will be excited and optimistic about the proposal he has in mind. A day in advance he’ll practice what he will say right before proposing.

- Rengoku would take you on a date and take you to a town that has a lot of street food. You both will try a lot of things, enjoying each other’s company. After you two had the time of your lives, he’ll walk you to his estate and that’s when he feels like the time is right. So while you’re walking he’ll start saying the lines that he practiced over and over. Then he’ll stop in his tracks, get on one knee, and call your first and last name. When you turn around that’s when he’ll say the big question with a huge smile plastered on his face. The smile will only get wider when you say yes.

- He will let you choose where to have the wedding, he’s happy with whatever.

- He’ll invite his father and little brother, and all the Hashira. Tengen is his best man of course. Rengoku hopes that his father won’t miss out on this once in a lifetime event and will be there for him, but no matter what he won’t let anything ruin the special day.

- The day of the wedding when he’s getting ready, Tengen will be hyping him up and telling him that today will be the best day of his life. Rengoku believes every single one of those words too.

🌊Giyuu Tomioka🌊

- When Giyuu realizes that he wants to take the next step in your relationship, he’ll hesitate. Don’t get him wrong, he really wants to marry you and be able to call you his spouse but he’s scared of getting too close to you. He’s afraid that you’ll just end up leaving so he stops himself from having those thoughts about marriage.

- That was until one day when Tanjiro was visiting him, he could smell that Giyuu was hiding something and that something was bothering him. When he asked him about it he just brushed him off, but Tanjiro could tell that this was something really burdening him so he asked and asked until eventually Giyuu told him. Tanjiro gave some words of encouragement and that got Giyuu thinking. So he thanked Tanjiro and went off to buy a ring for you, hoping that it’ll fit you.

- He would much rather be in the comfort of his own home and propose to you rather than in public. Giyuu will invite you over and hang out. Talking and chilling with each other. He softly smiles whenever you make a joke or will just be talking about whatever. You even pointed out that he was smiling more.

- When you were laying in bed together he was getting a tad bit awkward. He wanted to pop the question now but he didn’t know if he should just say it or what. So when you noticed a shift in his behavior and asked him, he just flat out asked you to marry him.

- He would invite Tanjiro, Urokodaki, some of the Hashira, and that’s it. Of course you can invite whoever you want, he doesn’t mind at all.

- On the day of the wedding, he’ll be really tense out of nervousness but the happiness he feels outweighs it. He will be smiling almost all day.

Masterlist

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strayrockette · 1 month

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My Sunshine Girl: The Celebration

Next Chapter

Note: I’m finally giving in and writing this Benny fic my brain won’t stop rehashing. Enjoy 😊

Super Note: Listen, guys, gals, peeps...I really really really tried to keep this short but it ended up a lot longer than I intended. I even split it into two separate parts and it's STILL SOOO LONG IM SORRY! Also please excuse incorrect grammar. I tried to edit as much as I could but I'm sure I still missed something. My Masterlist

Summary: The birthday girl doesn’t want the night to end and a handsome stranger gives her an invitation.

Inspired by: (Today I Met) The Boy I’m Gonna Marry by Darlene Love, He’s Mine by the Platters, and @storiesfromafan.

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Harold’s Diner was one of many to be open late at night. Where the others were dim and had few occupants, Harold’s Diner was packed with more than usual.

Half were regulars all grouped together on the far left. They held familiarity as they conversed and joked around. Laughter and chatter were loud and hard to escape in the mom-and-pop diner.

You fluttered from table to table, smiling wide, excitement and happiness oozing from your body. It had been a pleasant surprise to walk into your uncle's diner and find a couple of friends and family waiting for you.

Your best friend Nat had organized a small get-together for your birthday. Your Uncle Harold had allowed her to use his diner for the event, "it'll be good for business and it'll make her happy" He had shrugged his shoulders as if saying yes was the only answer. With his answer, Nat had taken it upon herself to decorate the diner in anticipation of the night.

While the diner was technically open to other customers, you didn't mind one bit. The small community you lived in was tight-knit and most customers were from nearby. Few and far between were out-of-towners who were just making a pitstop. But that didn't disturb you one bit.

Customers came and went as the night went on. Many wished you a happy birthday as you and your friends idled joyfully in the corner of the diner. You beamed with each happy birthday.

By the time your friends were ready to leave and retire for the night you pouted, the night was only beginning and you were too excited to see what the cool air and starry sky had to offer.

You’d tried to convince Nat to stay out later but her boyfriend wouldn’t budge. She grasped your shoulders softly, “We can hang out some other time hun, Mikey doesn’t like it when I stay out late”

You’d rolled your eyes and mumbled a passive goodnight. Waving her off with a small and placid smile. Uncle Harold had practically shooed you out of the diner so he could clean in peace. He’d ushered out a goodnight and a see you at home, before closing the diner doors to prevent another customer from coming in.

All too suddenly you were left alone staring up at the sky and wondering exactly what you would do next. Your feet ached in the black wedges Nat had bought you. And you really wished you could sit down somewhere.

You walked along the sidewalk, taking in the dimly lit path, you wondered if you should have taken Nat's offer to drop you off at home. But you didn't like Mikey, so you politely declined.

You continued to wander, your feet aching as you tried to think of where else you could go. Who else could you visit before retiring to your cold empty bed. Lost in thought you barely noticed soft hands moving to grasp your wrists “Y/N?”

You blinked, your eyes focusing on the person in front of you. Short hair and wide eyes, “Kathy?”

A smile broke out, “Oh my gosh! How are you?”

Kathy’s brown eyes twinkled, “Been better. Since when were you back?”

“About a month ago” you responded happily. “I didn’t think I’d run into you”

She fixed her purse over her shoulder, “Talk about perfect timing. Do you remember Alice? Well, she asked me to come to spot her at this bar, but I don’t want to go in alone.”

Her question was unsaid but you were too excited to keep the night going to even think about saying no. You hooked an arm around hers and practically dragged her into the bar. You weren’t prepared for what kind of club you were walking into. But if you learned anything from living in New York City for the last 4 years, it was always best to walk as if you belonged and barrel through bodies who got in your way.

You did just that, Kathy squeezing herself closer to you, your skirt rode up with each stride, the lime green plaid skirt catching more than a few eyes. But you were always prepared for a night of fun, dolling yourself up in the cutest skirts or dresses.

Your legs were covered in nude stockings a pair of dark shorts over ‘em, like hell I’d make it easier for scummy eyes and hands to slip into my “honey pot” the thought almost made you sneer outwardly but you attempted to keep the joyful smile on your face.

You pushed through, shouldering men bigger than you, slapping hands that tried to grab your waist and smiling sweetly when they insisted, “Not for you sweetheart”

Your confidence and boldness had men parting a path for you as you tugged Kathy behind you. Your eyes searching for a familiar blonde, green eyed girl you used to tease for the gap in her teeth.

Alice’s head popped up over the crowd, her hands waving enthusiastically in the air as she caught sight of your dark brown hair and smiling face, “Y/N??OH MY GOD YOU’RE BACK”

She screeched over the loud music and voices, completely comfortable in the bar filled with greasy old and young men alike.

You rushed through the last stretch of the crowd, breaking through to rush around her table, gathering Alice into a hug you giggled and swayed together, “I missed you, you chatterbox”

You teased her as you pulled away. Your eyes roamed her face. “Well, someone’s changed”

Her green eyes looked you over a smirk on her lips, “I could say the same for you, little miss, barreling through those men like you own the place,” she leaned forward whispering in your ear, “Good job”

You laughed, patting her shoulder you pulled a seat out and sat down. Kathy was already seated, her fingers digging into the purse she clutched to her chest. Pulling money from the bottom of her purse she slid it over to Alice, “Here take it”

Alice grinned, “Awe, thanks hun, you’re the best”

Kathy looked around her gaze warily taking in the rowdy men, their greasy appearance, and tattooed bodies, “Uh huh, I gotta go”

Alice frowned, “Awe come on, you just got here and Y/N here, the fun’s just got started”

Kathy shook her head, her discomfort growing, “No way, we can get together another day”

She stressed over the word day. You bumped her shoulder, “Oh come on Pumpkin, I could use a dance with you”

She turned her head to you, her discomfort and excitement warring with each other, “No can do sweets, I hate it here”

Alice snorted, “You hate anywhere that isn’t your home, anyways” She motions to the other end of the table, “over here is cockroach”

You followed, Alice’s gesture, noticing his rough appearance-much like many of the men here, but his eyes were gentle and warm, he’s a harmless bug you thought.

You gave him a nod of acknowledgment and a hello around the same time Kathy paused her jittery movements to say “What?”

She gave him a confused and disbelieving look. He nodded, seemingly used to the confused and odd looks, “They call me cockroach,“ he repeated.

Kathy scoffed her eyes once again looking around cautiously, “And why they call you a stupid name like that?” She asked.

You leaned forward, your elbows resting on the table, “Is it cuz cockroaches are indestructible?”

You were curious about his name and what meaning it had to him. Based on the group of men he hung with you assumed there would be plenty of weird names to learn. He grinned at you, “cuz I like to eat bugs, you know, like a gag but also cuz I just like to eat em”

You laughed amused by his statement. Kathy looked disgusted and she voiced as much, “That’s disgusting. Look, I gotta go, you comin’ with me?”

She turned to you at the end of her sentence. Her eyes pleading with you to leave the bar with her. You pouted, “Sorry, pumpkin, I think I’m gonna stick around a lil longer”

Alice sighed, “Ay, they’re not that bad,” she reached across the table, patted Kathy's hand, and smiled reassuringly, “Just sit here for a bit, okay?”

Kathy huffed as Alice slipped from her seat to go to the bar, her eyes glancing around nervously. You leaned in, whispering in her ear, “It’s best to pretend you belong than to act like you don’t, pumpkin.”

She turned once more her jitteriness increasing the longer she stayed, “And why in the hell would I do that?”

You sighed and shook your head, “to lessen the stares you’re gettin, duh”

She rolled her eyes, “they’d stare no matter what.” She concluded irately.

Alice slips back into her seat, handing you and Kathy a pop to drink.

Before you could respond to reassure Kathy, two men walked up to your table, one is shorter than the other, neither are bad looking but the grease on their skin and the scent of cigarette smoke hanging around them makes them undesirable to most women. At least, the women living the prim and proper lifestyle.

Kathy avoids making eye contact but you do it freely, unbothered and curious at what they’ve got to say.

The shorter one of the two leans forward his dark eyes roaming from Kathy to you, “Hey there.” His voice is raspy and not too deep nor high. It’s rather pleasant, you think passively. “Either of you wanna come live with me?”

It’s almost a tease and a genuine question, the other jumps in eagerly, he’s tall and bare-chested, and he’s wearing a jean vest that all the men in this bar are wearing, “What about me? Wanna go out with me” his eyes look to you, they’re a soft brown and you can tell he’s a sweetheart deep down. But with all the men gathered at this bar, kindness, and sweetness are buried beneath their manly-esque appearance.

Kathy utters, “No, thank you” with a shake of her head and her eyes downcast. But you stare up at them and simply say, “No”

You’re leaning back in your chair, hands calmly placed over your thigh, your legs crossed. You have no worries or cares and you’re not at all intimidated by these men. Kathy goes on to make excuses for why she said no. She looks around the table “Oh, I have a date”

The tall one hums, “A date huh?” He nods his head at you, “What about you?”

You tease them, "If I did have a date, it isn't either of you."

The tall one laughs hollering over his shoulder, "We've got a sassy one over here."

The short on places a hand on his heart, "I'm hurt sunshine"

You laugh enjoying the light banter and tease.

Kathy nudges you, her eyes wide and warning. You stick your tongue out a silent message for her to loosen up.

She pinches your side and then says unconvincingly, “Well, I’ve got a date. 12 o’clock," She nods to herself, " I-I have to get home. She's coming with me.”

Kathy insists on whisking you away from here, she's seen the looks these men give you and bless your heart. Kathy isn't sure if you're unaware or unbothered, she refuses to leave you behind. You were the one good girlfriend she had ever had, even if you had disappeared for 4 years.

The shorter one lifts his cigarette to his mouth and inhales, “You hear that cockroach”

He points his cigarette in Kathy’s direction, “Cinderella’s got a date" He points to you, "And Sunshine waitin' for her man”

Kathy sinks into her seat and you wonder if she would bolt for the door. But with the two men blocking their path, she remains rooted in her seat.

The tall one echos, “Yeah, Cinderelli’s got a date, and Sunshine’s waitin' for her man to find her”

Cockroach chuckles and shakes his head. The two men slip away from the table, the shorter one going on to say, “Cinderella’s gonna turn into a pumpkin or somethin’”

Another man hollers, "Wonder who the lucky man is, Sunshine"

You giggle to yourself, the men reminded you of another group you'd known in New York. It wasn't too bad once you found your bearings amongst them.

You glanced at Kathy, seeing her eying someone with suspicious eyes.

You followed her gaze, seeing an older man calmly sitting with his back to the wall and his legs propped up on a chair. He was eyeing you gals with soft eyes, he gave you two a nod as another man leaned down to whisper in his ear.

Your eyes lingered for a few moments trying to grasp what exactly was being said, with no luck you looked over to the group of men, two of them being the ones who had attempted to pick you and Kathy up, stood near the Jukebox. They lazed around, heads bent speaking to each other, one of them glanced up to look over at the table you sat in.

Kathy shook her head, her voice wavering, “Look at them whisperin and plannin’ somethin, oh I gotta go”

Kathy had reached for your hand, already pulling you up from the seat. Your feet nearly stumbling as you righted yourself to walk behind her. You tugged lightly, turning her around, “If you’re gonna drag me around like ole times, Pumpkin, give me a sec to get my bearings.”

She sighed and nodded. Her right hand clutching her purse tighter as she stood and waited.

You fixed your skirt and bent down to grab your purse that hung loosely over your chair, swinging it over your shoulder, you stood and got ready to leave.

You gave the bar one last sweep with your eyes, stopping when you saw him. Blonde windswept hair and baby blue eyes. Toned arms littered with tattoos, and grease sticking to his skin, you assumed it was motor oil and some other form of grease from tinkering away at bikes.

Your head tilted and a growing feeling of intrigue and curiosity overwhelmed you. Forgetting about Kathy, you plopped onto the chair and clumsily tapped Alice’s arm to get her attention. Your bag knocked against the table nearly falling off your shoulder and hitting the ground but you tucked it on your lap and leaned closer to Alice, “Hey Alice, who is that looker over by the pool table”

Alice looked to where your eyes hovered, catching on to whom you were asking about, “No, girl just no”

You turned, giving her a frown, “What?”

“Thats Benny, you don’t want to go there” She insisted.

Kathy slid into the seat next to you, her shoulder brushing yours, “Don’t tell me you’re eyeing one of these greasy fuckers”

You jabbed her with your elbow, “Be nice,”

Passing her a pleading look. Kathy sighed and leaned onto the table, her escape plan on hold.

You pleaded with Alice to tell you more, “Come on, spill! You never hold back, what’s the deal?”

Alice gave you an unimpressed look and shook her head.

"Just fill my curiosity meter, sweets," You shook her arm as if it would help make her spill.

Alice snorted, “You’re never just curious, Sunny”

Kathy hummed, “Agreed. You rarely give anyone the time of day, why are you askin' about this one”

That's a story that would be too long to spill, you sigh, "I'll tell yah later"

“Look, no one wants to date Benny, he’s trouble. Every time he gets on his bike he gets into an accident” she looked around conspiratorially, “and he’s got a temper on him, he won’t hurt no lady but put a man in front of him and he’ll swing any which way he pleases”

She tried to stress his flaws but you couldn’t quite let go of the curiosity in you. You didn’t have his name before, you’d wondered where he slipped off to after your uncle's diner. He’d shown up out of the blue in the early afternoon. His hair freshly ruffled from the wind, a cigarette hanging from his lips, his long fingers fixing his jacket, and his long jean-clad legs striving through the diner doors with grace and confidence. For a rebel against society's norms, he was handsome. Too handsome. You couldn’t believe he didn’t have a line of girls wanting to get with him.

But then again, most of them probably steered clear to avoid angering their families. Lucky for you, you had no such concerns.

You remembered how your uncle was about to throw him out of your diner, refusing to serve “vandal scum” in his family friendly diner. But you had swooped in, bouncing over before any hands could fly and faces bruised. You’d smiled blithely, gently reminding your uncle it was your birthday and you had no need or want for a fight to break out and break the mood that had settled into the diner’s atmosphere.

People were coming in and out, most were family and friends visiting to say hi and spend time with you for your birthday. Some were customers but even they stopped for a few to talk to you. Reminiscing over younger you who had greeted each of them one time or another at the diner.

You’d turned to the handsome stranger, your hair swirling around you in waves, a playful finger wagging in his direction, “This is a family friendly diner, handsome, I’m afraid you can’t smoke in here”

You had expected him to argue but he merely put out his cigarette, handing it to your outstretched palm. You discarded it in the trash behind the hostess stand and grabbed a menu for him. You glanced to your uncle and then to the stranger, “You can eat here as long as you behave. and you will, right?” You asked sweetly.

The handsome stranger merely nodded, giving you a half smile. His blue eyes staring intently into your own dark brown that glittered with a hint of gold and red in the setting sun that glowed through the windows.

You had waved your hands in the air, “See didi, there’s no trouble here. Just a handsome man wanting to eat your delicious food”

You had defused the situation so quickly it nearly gave everyone a whiplash but that was something everyone had missed. Your ability to lighten an atmosphere.

After getting the stranger seated you went back to your previous activities nearly forgetting the blue eyes that lingered on you throughout his stay.

You had almost forgotten, until now.

Alice shook her head, grasping your hand, “Don’t say I didn’t warn yah”

She glanced at Kathy, “If you wanna leave that bad, let’s get you to a phone to call for a ride mkay”

Kathy sighed in relief, “thank you, you’re the best”

They left you to your thoughts. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, thinking over what Alice said and remembering the brief meeting from earlier in the day. You contemplated going up to him, just to ask if had enjoyed the food. He had wiped his plate clean so you know he did. But perhaps you could also ask him why your uncle couldn’t stand the sight of him. Maybe that’s too personal you thought idly.

You would have sunk deeper and deeper into your thoughts if it weren’t for a figure slipping into a chair next to you. His arms hugging the back of the chair, his body leaning over to stare at you.

You almost choked on air realizing who was seated next to you. His eyes peered into yours, soft and gentle. His beard was a golden blonde like his hair, it framed his face nicely, his cheekbones and jaw were sculpted to perfection and you wondered if you ever laid eyes on someone who was casually perfect. “Hey”

Your eyes traced his face, “Hello handsome, I didn't think I'd see yah again"

He nodded giving you a half smile, so similar to the one you had received when you had helped him get a table at your uncles diner, “I’m Benny”

You noticed his voice was a deep honeyed rasp. Somehow smooth and bumpy. You wanted to listen to him talk all night, but based on your previous and current encounters; you didn’t think he’d do much talking.

You tilted your head to the side humming in reply, “I’m Y/N”

Silence fell, a bubbly giddy feeling in your chest almost had you giggling nervously. You’d never had a man stare at you so intensely without a crude or rude comment hanging from their lips. But Benny simply watched. His eyes trailing over your face, mapping out the curve of your nose and lips, the laugh lines in your face, the dimples resting at the top of your cheeks and the way your honey brown eyes watched him in return.

He wanted to reach out to touch your cheek wondering if they felt as warm as the redness in them implied.

You swallowed the giggle by biting your bottom lip, you seemed to be doing that a lot tonight. You hoped you wouldn’t bruise it with how much you had repeated this action. “You gonna stare at me all night, Benny”

You whispered his name and it felt scandalous. As if it was the most intimate pet name you had ever come up with prior to knowing his true name.

He smiled, rubbing a hand over his chin then through his hair, he adjusted his position, “Yeah, I guess”

He made no other comment. Not once bothering to fill the growing silence between you. Perhaps there wasn’t much to be said because his eyes said it all. He was interested, you gathered.

His eyes inviting, patiently waiting on you to confirm…something. You weren’t sure.

And as much as you wanted to do or say anything you simply went with, “I-Uh-I’m with my girls”

You stuttered, what a terrible flirt. You wanted to slam your head into the table, to sink into the floor and disappear. That wasn’t what you wanted to say but it was the only thing you could think of.

“Oh” he looked down at his arms then slowly looked back up to you, “okay”

His eyes were softer and a little sad. More silence. Your heart was beating so fast with adrenaline. You swore you would never forgive yourself for being an idiot. You hoped he would say something, ask you anything. Maybe give you something other than his contemplative silence. But no, he only lifted his hands up, “You’re with your girls”

He had shrugged as he said it, gracefully getting up to leave you alone. You could feel his eyes leaving you and he left you to a different kind of silence. You couldn’t believe how idiotic you had been. As if the invitation wasn’t clear enough you had shut him down. Leave it to you to blow off the only man who had ever made you feel anything other than disgust under their gaze.

Kathy slid into the chair to your right, her mouth parting ready to ask you if you would be leaving with her, but another figure slipped into a seat at the other side of the table.

You recognized him from earlier, the man who watched you and Kathy from his corner of the bar. He gave you girls a quirk of his lip and a nod, “What are your names, girls”

Kathy leaned back and sighed, “What is this? A rotary buffet?”

You could tell she was getting tired of all the men who were coming up to you gals. “I’m Kathy, this is Y/N”

The man nodded once more, “I’m uh Johnny, I’m the president of this club.”

You hummed, “Nice to meet yah”

Kathy rolled her eyes but gave him a nod of acknowledgement. He continued to speak, “Just want the two of yous to know that..you don’t have to worry”

Your brow raised surprised by his statement but knowing where he was going.

“Worry about what?” Kathy questioned with rising suspicion.

Johnny shook his head, “Nothin, that’s all. The guys just wanna have some fun…”

He nodded his eyes trailing to the group of men by the Jukebox, “I won’t let nothin happen to yah”

His grey eyes scanned the two of you.

Kathy quirked a challenging eye brow, “Oh yeah? And what’s gonna happen to us?”

You placed a hand on her arm, trying to calm her growing agitation, “Nothin” Johnny responded.

This didn’t appease Kathy at all, she rolled her eyes and sarcastically laughed, “haha, thanks for that, we gots to go now. Nice to meet yah. Adios. Bye”

You gripped your bag over your shoulder allowing her to drag you out of the bar. When you noticed the men leering and getting closer to her, you tugged her back and took the lead, shoving them aside with strength that once again surprised them. You got out relatively untouched. But you knew that there would be some grease stains on your skirt and stockings. Kathy didn’t seem too happy about the prints on her ass though.

You would have laughed if it weren’t for the enraged look on her face. “What animals”

She hissed. Trying to swipe away the grease but the damage was done.

“Alright, sunny, I called a cab and it should be here any minute. You gonna hop in?”

You sighed and hummed, after blowing off the Benny guy you wanted nothin but to go home and wallow in your failure.

Her lips smirked, “Gonna wallow in self pity for rejectin’ that biker guy?”

Her comment released a wave of groans from your lips, “My gosh Kathy! I blew it!”

You hooked your right arm though her left and followed her across the street, “I was THIS close” you lifted your thumb and pointer finger and squeezed them together, “to maybe going on a date or somethin’”

She laughed, “Oh honey, you’ve never even bothered to flirt nor talk to a man that wasn’t family or close friends. Of course you’d blow it”

Her tease left you pouting, throwing your head back you groaned and stomped your feet playfully, “If I had a second chance I think I could get it right”

Your eyes traced the Big Dipper, wishing for another chance. But for what? You didn’t even think you had it in you. Sure you could be confident and happy. Bulldozing your way through life. Making others smile and laugh. Getting others to feel comfortable and welcoming.

But flirting? Dating? Talking to an insanely handsome man?

An impossible task you really wanted to try.

A few minutes went by before Kathy started to nudge your side. You turned your head to stare at her, one brow raised in question. Her eyes flitted across the street and you followed.

He was walking across the street, cigarette on his lips and a lighter hovering in front of him as he lit it. His hand shoved the lighter back into his pocket and he nonchalantly walked up to his sleek black bike. Swinging his long legs over the bike, he jumped to start it, his bike roaring to life.

He sat down, fixed his jacket, and gave you a look over his shoulder. His eyes were obscured by shadows but with the slight incline of his head, you figured he was silently telling you to get on.

Kathy pushed you towards him, your feet stumbling over the pavement. You righted yourself and shot her a glare. She wiggled her fingers at you, shooing you in response.

You slowly took a step forward. Then two. Then three. And before you could turn around and run away you were standing next to him.

He plucked his cigarette from his lips and gave you a look. His eyes scanned you from head to toe. Amused to see you standing near him. Your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your skirt.

You were just about to ask him if you could get on. But rowdy men spilled out of the bar. Hooting loudly at seeing you next to Benny. Urging you to get on. Some commenting about your pretty skirt riding up your thigh. And some praising Benny for reining you in.

“Get on girl, it’s gonna be a fun ride” one of them laughed out.

Benny gave no indication he was listening to them. And he gave no indication of what he wanted you to do. You suppose he had already given you a hint earlier. You sighed and got on.

Once seated you tried to tug your skirt down the best you could. Silently thankful that you had prepared for the worst-case scenario. Your black shorts peeked from beneath your skirt. Your thighs resting comfortably over the bike.

More of the men hollered, “We’ve got a smart one”

“Ay suppose only Benny can take a peek underneath her skirt”

You blushed at the comment. You would like to deny it but saying anything would only fuel their provocative statements.

You turned to take a quick peek at Kathy, finding her getting on one of the men’s bikes. Having been herded by the others to take a ride. She had obviously given in to get them to leave her alone. She shot you a look. Her eyes flickered between you and Benny. She gave you a wry smile. She was excited for you. But not that pleased with her own situation. However, she’d pull through if you were experiencing it with her.

Your hands were loosely gripping onto Benny’s side, unsure of where to place them.

One of Benny’s hands reached around, grabbing yours to tightly wrap it around his midsection. You laced your fingers together and held on tightly. Trying to ignore the way your body pressed into his.

Someone shouted for him to take off and let him know that they would meet up with him on the expressway. With a jolt of the bike, you lurched forward. Your thighs squeezing Benny's legs and your grip getting tighter.

After that, you were a goner. The night sped past you in a blaze of light. The stars glittering and the town lights fading into the darkness. The wind swept your hair, tossing your neatly primed waves into a knotted mess.

You squealed, pressing your face into his back. Your eyes followed the passing scenery falling in love with the speed and the freedom that swelled up inside you.

You felt him chuckle at your reaction, you tore your gaze away and leaned at an angle to see the side of his face, you could tell he was smiling.

You were in trouble. All the warnings Alice had given you had been discarded. Your heart was a fool and your mind had been made. And you wondered where exactly this night would lead.

A/N: If you made it this far down, I applaud you 👏part 2 is already written and is currently being edited. If you want quick updates, comment for a tag! Thank you so much for sticking around to read this long fic!

#benny cross x fem reader #benny cross fic #benny cross x y/n #benny cross imagine #benny cross x reader #benny cross #benny the bikeriders #the bikeriders fic #the bikeriders x reader #bikeriders #the bikeriders #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler

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liillyliilly · 3 months

Text

Halo

oikawa tooru x reader words; 10249 synopsis; He'd always been in love with her, it just took her a long time to feel the same.

When Oikawa was sixteen, she was eighteen.

“I swear you have a halo, just look at the way the sun curls itself around the edges of your hair. You have a halo around you.” She sat next to Oikawa and used her hands to create an imitation of a camera or frame that focused on how the sun backlit Oikawa.

The greenery of the hill they were pausing at, resting from a walk, was vibrant. The breeze filtered through the blades of grass and made a scent of earth linger around them. A setting sun was the backdrop of their conversation, she used it to flatter him.

He was so annoyed with her when she did that, his ambition was overwhelming for those around him but it never scared her off from him.

He wonders when that would change. It was a thought that remained; when would he cross a line and she would view his hunger as repulsive instead of laudable?

Oikawa scoffs, “You may think I’m an angel, but in reality, I’m just a drop in the ocean. Nothing special. One amongst many.”

“But just being counted among those many is still special. If the ocean didn’t have millions of small drops contributing and doing their part it wouldn’t exist in the first place.”

He bites his tongue. His deflections never worked on her.

She was older than him by two years, and she was best friends with his older sister. Oikawa also claimed her as a best friend.

Despite her being the younger of the duo, she was an outstanding example of poise and maturity in contrast to his older sister who was more like him, rash and immature. Oikawa could care less for his older sister’s other friends, but he loved it when she would come around. She could turn any moment into something special and memorable for him.

The halo moment with her happened when he started high school, while she was beginning the end of her journey in high school as a third-year student. His sister had already moved out and was living with her fiance.

While it was annoying that the older Oikawa sibling had asked her to watch over him, he didn’t mind her walking him to school in the mornings and her waiting at his volleyball practices to take him back home. She would always do homework or sit outside the gym and read with her headphones on.

“Let’s keep going, your mom is making katsu curry tonight.” She brushes off some grass from her school uniform, reaching out a hand for Oikawa to take so she can pull him up from the ground. He did have a halo in her eyes.

He tugs her back down, so she’s almost in his lap, “Ten more minutes.”

He likes it when she’s close to him. He’s sixteen, but he hopes that she could see beyond that. He hopes she doesn’t make this year the year she gets a boyfriend. She’s gone on dates with younger guys before, albeit, only one year younger than her. Maybe she’d make an exception for a two-year gap.

She takes her hand back from him and shoves him playfully. “You have five minutes and then we need to go.” He nods his head, staring at the mountain range that sits nearby.

She sighed, and laid back onto the ground, hands behind her head and legs crossed over each other. Her eyes were closed and she was soaking in the way the air cooled down slowly but surely as each second passed and night overtook day.

Oikawa tilted his head, resting his temple against folded arms that were lying on his knees that he had pulled up close to his chest. He just watched her.

When he was seven, she was nine. He’d felt ill when he heard that she’d be going camping instead of coming over to his house to spend time with his sister for an entire week. Just the thought of her being gone was agonizing.

That’s why during family dinner he declares a plan.

“I’m going to ask her to run away with me. It’s the only solution.” His face is covered in food and his mouth is full of mashed potatoes.

The older sister spits out her apple juice and laughs loudly. The mom chuckles from behind her napkin. She reaches over and touches Oikawa’s arm, “Honey, she’ll be gone for a week, and then back to keep playing for the rest of the summer break.”

Oikawa drags his hand down his face and complains. “That’s too long.”

His sister perks up and starts picking a fight with him, “You just want her not to leave so you can keep staring at her when she comes over here.” She makes a kissing face and puts her hands on her cheeks.

He turns red, calling for his mom to see what his sister is doing to him. Oikawa’s mom spent most of that week counting down the days until the soothing presence of a nine-year-old girl returned from camping in the woods.

Oikawa had spiraled down to the depths of volleyball sooner rather than later.

If he wanted to be the best, then he’d need to work harder than everyone else. Hours poured into practice, studying, focusing his lens on only volleyball.

In his second year of high school, he sustained a knee injury. He bottled it in. For a sport that was meant to be so much fun, he was in agony over his incapabilities at that moment. You play a sport for fun, you enjoy something for the love of it. If that was the case then why did he feel so utterly destroyed?

It wouldn’t be a problem, but when his mom took him to the doctor, the doctor said it was a stress fracture. He’d been playing too intensively for too long and would need a few months of recovery if he wanted to play the rest of the season. The antiseptic environment struck him as unloving. Medicine never understood the reality of sports, the deep driving passion that wasn’t bound by science.

Even if he couldn’t do serves or jumps, he could still run. He could still stay up late watching games of his opponents. He could still linger around practices and work on his tosses. He broke some rules and did receiving practices as well. But he made sure to take Mondays off, he only did low-intensive workouts on Mondays, long walks, and extensive stretching.

Maybe it was his fault for being addicted to volleyball.

His mom called her over one night when he refused to respond to his mom’s requests for him to go to sleep. She was at college now, her first year. She enjoyed what she was studying, and she liked that she had freedom. There was still a sense of responsibility for Oikawa Tooru that she carried.

Her best friend was married now and had given birth to Takeru who was growing up faster than expected.

When she got the call asking if there was anything she could do or say to get Oikawa out of his funk, she drove over and told the worried mom to go to bed, and that she could handle it.

Could she handle him, could she mitigate the tension in his soul? She knew that Oikawa loved volleyball and that his injury had made him bitter. When his actions began to worry others though, she drew a line there. Nothing was worth the hurt of worrying.

She knocked on his door, but he didn’t respond. She opened the door, and saw him at his desk, pen in hand taking notes of a volleyball video. It was of him playing against a rival school, each time he saw something he didn’t like he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and gritted his teeth.

She picked up his desk clock. Lightly beginning her approach to tell him to back down from his focus, “You never seem to look at the clock anymore, it’s nearly two in the morning. Tooru, you’re going to make yourself sick with all the time you spend watching those videos.” She tried to get him to look at the timekeeper in her hand. He pushed it away and she set it back on the counter.

The prodding she performed struck a cord in him.

“I can’t practice? I can’t analyze games? Do you want me to be a bad volleyball player?” Oikawa set the pen down, rubbing his eyes which felt dry and strained. The words he intended to come out as inquisitive came out accusingly instead.

“That’s not what I’m saying at all. You need to incorporate more moderation into your life. This obsessive hyperfixation on the gap between your dreams and current reality is driving you to the brink.” She rubbed a hand on his shoulder, trying to lull him away from the desk and towards his bed.

There was no use in focusing so intensely on the gaps between desire and truth. She thought he would see reason. She wanted him to understand that he needed to recover more fully before diving back into volleyball. There was nothing more important to her than helping him find out that life isn’t built upon strenuous achievement to get to the end, because the goal line was always being moved. How could Oikawa expect to get anything accomplished if the footing he was gaining would keep changing?

Oikawa slinks away, pulling his chair closer to the desk, and his face closer to the screen, “It’s the dreamer and reality face-off. And I’m losing. I’m losing and you can’t see it.”

She leans over and shuts his laptop, he spins around to her with a scowl. She puts her hands on each of the arms on his chair, boxing him in with her surrounding him from all sides.

“You are losing. You’re losing yourself. Tooru, you’re losing because you aren’t taking a step back to enjoy life right now. You think you’re losing, but no one else is playing this game with you.” She moves a hand and points to his bed, “Get out of this chair and go to bed, you dumbass.”

He feels bad that she’s here instead of in her bed sleeping. Her hair was messy and riddled with tiredness, her clothes were pajamas with a jacket over the top.

She was wearing the sandals that she got during a trip his family had taken that she went along with. When she was busy splashing around in the ocean with his big sister, he sat on a towel watching the way the water made her glow from the sun’s reflection on her skin. If only he’d gotten in the water instead of playing by himself and tossing volleyballs into the air, trying to reach the sunlight from his place in the sand.

He mumbles an agreement to her request, going to his bathroom to brush his teeth while she watches from the doorframe.

Clambering into his bed, Oikawa wraps himself in his blankets and ignores the way his body tenses up at first, but slowly eases into laying down on his bed.

There wasn’t a move from her to leave his room quite yet, but she was yawning. When she made a step forward, she stumbled a little.

He leaned up and spoke, “Can you even drive?”

Swallowing, she replies, “I’ll probably just sleep in my car, I thought I wasn’t that tired when I drove over here.” Another yawn she tries to muffle is released.

Oikawa grabs a pillow that was wedged in between his bed and the wall that it was against. He moves closer to the wall, trying to make room for her.

“Just stay.” With me.

She purses her lips. He’s still a child. He may be seventeen but he’s a child and he doesn’t know what he wants, that was her thought process. She was nineteen, she had to be the realistic one, a girl who didn’t give any kind of fake chance or inclination that would reciprocate feelings.

“I’ll see you later, Tooru. Don’t cause any more problems for your mom.”

She leaves, and he’s sitting up in his bed, hands curled up in his sheets, watching her leave.

It’s almost like she’s always the one to leave, she’s the one who puts the distance that he despises. He feels reduced to a kid. Like he’s a child that needs to be coddled and watched over. Although, he supposes his behavior did warrant a need for a babysitter.

When he was fourteen, she was sixteen. Blossoming into a young woman might have gone under the radar when it was his sister, but when it was her, he couldn’t think of anything else.

How could he think of anything else when she was right there sitting on the sidewalk making chalk drawings in a tank top and shorts? Her thighs had streaks of blue over them, and the legs of her shorts had handprints from where she rubbed off the excess chalk dust.

“Oi, Tooru! Come look at this!” She waved her hand so he’d move from his place on the porch to where she was sitting on the pavement. That’s when he noticed she’d accidentally gotten chalk handprints on the sides of her chest, standing out against the black spaghetti strap tank top. After he saw the chalk marks, naturally his eyes scanned the rest of her chest.

He almost chokes on his saliva, sticking his feet onto the panels of the front porch. “I, um, I’m good right where I am actually.” Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead and he silently prayed that his body would relax instead of shooting hot rushing blood through his body. He leaned back into the bench, trying to sink into it.

His sister knew better than that though, “Oh really? But she really wants you.” His sister had to have been pure evil, “She wants you to come over.” The slight pause between ‘come’ and ‘over’ went unnoticed by her but Oikawa hung onto the words like monkey bars.

“No, I’m sure I’m good.” He lets out a blase whistle, trying to think of anything but her body.

She throws him a thumbs up, “Sounds good.” When she goes back to drawing, her best friend leans into her ear. The laugh Oikawa’s sister lets out shocks his focus back to the pair of them.

Her eyes were darting anywhere but him and she was using a hand to slightly cover her face, using her other hand to bring the front of her top up a little more. He could’ve passed away from mortification right then and there.

When the pair of friends finally came back into the house, and Oikawa was playing video games with Iwaizumi who had come over, his ears were burning. She leaned into the living room to see what game they were playing, giving her input on the game, “Mario Kart is the best.” Her little chuckles at the way Iwaizumi was goading Oikawa had him addicted.

She laughed when Oikawa spun out of the track from spending just a little too much time looking at her rather than the screen.

Iwaizumi had left the house after an hour or so, and Oikawa’s sister was taking her turn in the tub. She was staying the night for a sleepover, waiting in the living room. Oikawa had forgotten to clean up the controllers so his mom told him to go clean up the TV area, only to be faced with her playing on her flip phone in the center of the couch.

He tried to pivot to avoid any more embarrassing exchanges between the two of them, but she told him to freeze where he was.

“Sit down.” She patted the space next to her.

Sitting down, he attempted to leave a huge canyon width of space.

She cleared her throat, “It’s okay that you think I’m attractive. Don’t be ashamed at all, it's perfectly fine and natural. As much as your sister does tease you, don’t let it make you feel gross or anything.”

He covered his face with his hands and groaned a little. The fact that they were even having this conversation made him want to go back in time and tell his parents to never have kids.

“You’re cute.” She ruffled his hair.

He blinked a few times and felt confidence flood in. “You think I’m cute?”

“Sure, you got pretty eyes and your hair is always super soft.” She crossed her legs, still messing with his hair as he slowly reclined on the couch.

Oikawa figures he’d been teased enough for one day, so it wouldn’t hurt to be just a little flirty back. “I think you should always have your hands in my hair. Feels like heaven.”

Her laughs run around his head before settling into his heart. “I’ll see what I can do about that then.”

“Great, that way I don’t have to ask you. You can just see me and know I want you to run your hands through my soft hair by default.” He wiggled his head a little from side to side, amplifying his attempt at charisma.

She just smiled at him in response.

Repressed feelings and self-loathing were most likely why his next fit was so soon after she had first pried him away from his screen during his second year. It was now nearing the end of his second year, and his injury had mostly recovered, it would never be the same knee, but it would function close to regularly again.

Much too late at night, once again, she’s knocking on his bedroom door, and he’s watching volleyball. Her voice is scratchy from a concert she attended the day before, with some guy who liked the same music as her. Oikawa never understood why people would want to date those who had the same music tastes. Maybe it was because he didn’t care all that much for music.

Iwaizumi was a music lover, and Oikawa just listened to whatever Iwaizumi played. Oikawa liked her music though. It was usually the sad kind of piano music. Her other favorite type of music was the kind of music that screams out into the universe and declares, no, demands, a presence.

She sounded scared. “Tooru. Open the door. I can hear your counterclock ticking. I’m listening to the ticking of the clock and I can’t hear you at all.” She wonders if he had escaped out the window to make stupid and rash teenage mistakes.

He sighed deeply, hoping she would hear that. She does. Oikawa had failed to make it to Nationals yet again, he had spent too much time this year working for his team to make it.

Ushijima had gone up to him and told him that Oikawa would have a better chance at making it further if he’d joined a different school. Ushijima knew nothing. Oikawa knew he was a good player, but why did every attempt to advance become reduced to another failure? Oikawa wanted to win with his team, with Iwaizumi, Takahiro, and Matsukawa. They were his team and Oikawa wanted to provide them an opportunity unlike any other.

It was an insult that Ushijima presented. The conditional offer to conceptualize the fact that Oikawa was not enough to bring his team through the games to a victory. That he couldn’t magically make a chance for them to fight on the main stage at Nationals. Ushijima had essentially told Oikawa that Oikawa was a talentless, worthless player, and if he wanted to win then he would’ve needed to join a team that could win with or without him. Oikawa was an inconsequential factor in the game of volleyball.

At least, that was how Oikawa interpreted the discussion with Ushijima after the tournament.

He’d have to work harder, he reasoned.

The door isn’t locked, so she finally enters. It isn’t quite as late as midnight, but it’s dark outside and the shadows slink into his room through the window. The moon casts a light in the center of his room.

He’s not sure if he’s crying or not. He’s cross-legged on his bed.

“Hey.” She scrutinizes his face, she can’t determine if she sees tears or if it's just the reminiscence of fear on his face. He makes a noise of acknowledgment. She sits on the corner of his bed.

He pours out his thoughts. The conversation with Ushijima, the way he feels his team looked at him, the way he hated his knee for being a physical reminder of his lack of talent.

She puts a hand on his face, guiding him to look at her.

“Do I see tears? Or is it just that the fear dwelling within you is making an annoying appearance again?” He shakes his head and uses his hand to wipe away at his face in case there are tears. Her thumb traces the bridge of his nose.

Anyone could tell that he seemed scared. But it was a deeper worry than just scared, it was a deep-rooted fear of lacking the abilities to be a good volleyball player. The ego he held close to his lungs was shattering and leaving shards, affecting his breathing.

He knew his internal locus of control wasn’t enough. He wanted to control more than was within his ability. Oikawa wanted the world on his shoulders, but he could barely balance it with open hands.

His chest starts to heave again, and his bottom lip wavers. She tries to shush him, but he lets out a strangled sob. Pulling him into her, she runs a hand on his head, soothing him by running her hand through his hair. She just keeps saying his name, pressing light kisses to the top of his head. The front of her shirt was covered in wet spots from how he had his face in her neck.

Shakily, he brings her into his lap, wraps his arms around her, and hugs her tightly.

“I’m sorry.” He kisses her with his whole heart, bumping their noses into each other. He kisses with too much force, but it conveys all the feelings he has. Love, pain, turmoil, affection.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He leans in again, but she puts a hand on his chest, putting space between them.

Patting his head, she tells him that she has to go back home. She thought that he just needed to get the kiss out of his system and that it didn’t mean anything.

When she pulls out of the driveway he yells into his pillow. His mom comes into his room and sees him hugging himself. Oikawa’s mom decides to leave well enough alone. She had only come to check on him again because Oikawa’s mom had asked, but it was all dependent on Oikawa and how he took what she said or did.

They never talk about the kiss in person. Oikawa thinks about it every day. It crosses her mind frequently enough to warrant a quick rant to Oikawa’s sister, replacing Oikawa with a differently named seventeen-year-old boy who used her as an emotional crutch.

In response to the rant, Oikawa’s sister had told her to let the boy off gently and to ghost him.

How could she ghost Oikawa Tooru though? Especially when he texted her and kept saying he was sorry for what he did and that all he wants is for them to be friends again.

She devours her pride and accepts his offer. They could be friends. Oikawa didn’t want just friendliness, he wanted love. He wanted her love.

When he was fifteen, she was seventeen. A third year in middle school, Oikawa had settled into the personality that he crafted. He wanted to be everything that a girl would like, charming, suave, and flippant. He wanted to be everything he thought she would like.

If it wasn’t for that annoying first-year genius, then Oikawa definitely would have had a chance to see if he could finally have a shot with her. Not necessarily ready to date her, but sensing if he at least was on a roster list for her.

She came to most of the games if she wasn’t busy with her part-time job or with schoolwork. He recalls how he had tossed her one of his backup Kitagawa Daiichi jerseys, with the captain’s mark and a shining number one on the front and back. He told her that if she was going to come to the games, she might as well show off who she was going to watch play.

She had said that the jersey would make it seem like she attended the junior high instead of her actual high school, he shrugged and said it didn’t matter. But each game that she went to, her wearing that jersey demonstrated how much it did matter to him. Beaming at her when he finally caught her eyes in the stands.

Oftentimes, Oikawa’s mom needed her to pick up Oikawa after practice since his older sister was out with her boyfriend. She didn’t mind going to Kitagawa Daiichi to pick him up since she liked the route to drive there. Covered in trees and a smooth straight road where she could go just a little over the speed limit and no cops cared enough to make her slow down.

Waiting at the entrance, she saw Oikawa cleaning up the gym. A black-haired boy had turned the corner and bumped into her.

“Ah, sorry.” He stood awkwardly like there was a ruler against his back preventing him from slouching at all.

“It’s all good!” She noticed his uniform, “You’re on this team aren’t you? What position are you?”

“I’m a setter.” Instinctively, the boy tries out a smile, it doesn’t look quite legitimate, but she dismisses the strangeness of it. He gives her his name, Kageyama Tobio. He questions her, “Who are you?”

She explains her relationship to Oikawa, being his older sister’s best friend. “Although, I’m another sister to him at this point.”

“A sister?” Kageyama makes a slightly bitter face, “You’re not blood-related though right?”

“No, no, just friends. But I’ve known him since he was in diapers.”

“Ahh, that’s why he was talking to Iwaizumi-san about what to get you for White Day.”

Furrowing an eyebrow, she thinks out loud, “I didn’t get him anything for Valentine’s Day this year though?”

Oikawa had rushed over once he saw Kageyama with her, shoving the mop into the closet and quickly getting to them. The floor was still wet though, so when she heard a thud and a string of curses, turning her head she saw Oikawa rubbing his back with a scrunched-up face.

She waved Kageyama off, going to Oikawa and crouching down next to him.

“Tooru, I think the floor is still wet.”

“No, really?” The words are laced with sarcasm. She giggles a little before giving him a hand, he takes it and stands up, still rubbing his backside.

As they made their way to her car, an old beater car that she had made into her dream car of sorts, she asked Oikawa what he was going to do on March 14th. Checking her review mirrors, and messing with the keychains she had hanging from the mirror, she backed the car up so she could get onto the main road.

“March 14th?” Oikawa faked dumb. “Nothing is happening on March 14th.” He folds his arms and settles into his seat. He wonders what Kageyama had told her during their conversation and if that had anything to do with her questioning his White Day plans.

“Okay good, I’ll be with Ito that day, so don’t have anything in mind.”

Oikawa grimaced. Ito Yuuta went to a different school than Aoba Johsai but was still way too involved in her life for Oikawa’s liking. His sister had shown Oikawa photos of Ito and her together at various hangouts.

“Ito Yuuta? The one that smells like he drowned in a forest?”

“Is that what she said he smells like? Yes, he does smell like evergreens. However, you betcha I love the smell of trees. He’s yummy.” She didn’t realize that she had begun to discuss someone she was interested in with someone who was extremely interested in her. “And his hair? Ugh, the way he gels it has me nearly weak in the knees.”

She pulled into his driveway, waiting for Oikawa to hop out. He didn’t.

“Tooru, we’re at your house?”

“Don’t leave yet, I have something for you.” Oikawa exits the car but keeps the door open so she can’t reverse.

He tossed a small box at her, and she barely caught it in her hands. She tugged at the small white ribbon on top of the blue box. “Wait!” She looked at him, “Don’t open it yet. Open it when you get home, okay?”

After he shut her car door and went to his room, he bounced his knee and waited for a text message from her.

Inside the white box was a card of course, but also a bracelet. It was a thin chain, with several charms attached to it. She picked up the card, and on the front was a legend of sorts, describing what each charm was for.

A key represented his wish for her to always have security and safety. A book charm was to show that he thought she was super smart. Her favorite charm though was the star, because he intended for it to mean how much she shined in his eyes.

The inside contents of the card were short, just about how glad he was to have her in his life. The other drafts of the card had been continually vetoed by Iwaizumi. Stealing poetry from Shakespeare would not have gotten the right emotion across. And confessing that he thought about her all the time would’ve come off as too stalker-ish. The best option Iwaizumi said was to go with the K.I.S.S method. And the K.I.S.S methodology went as follows, ‘Keep it simple, stupid.’

(tooru, thank you for the present.)

He saw that she was typing, and another message was loading.

(it’s sweet that you thought of getting me this for white day.)

He bit at the inside of his mouth. She had sent a photo of her holding up a peace sign, her wrist had the the bracelet on display.

(love you! 💛)

He sighed, falling back onto his bed. He wondered how embarrassing it would be if anyone knew he was fifteen and still kicked his feet a little to physically convey his blend of elation and how much fondness he had for her.

He hadn’t officially given her a White Day present, because he gave her the gift on March 12th. Which he thought was probably better than any sort of White Day gift. His present was special because of his simple desire to get her something rather than the bracelet being for a yearning for her to reciprocate something like a White Day confession.

The third year of high school was supposed to be his year. He bounced back from his second-year depression, using the time off of school to hone his skills, to practice being perfect. He felt as if he was close to attaining the perfection he aimed for. He still loses out on a chance to get to the Nationals. Losing to Karasuno in a devastatingly close game.

During the game, she saw him land on his bad knee and she almost jumped out of her seat. After the game, and watching how all the third years were struggling to hold back their tears, or the way that Oikawa harshly slapped Iwaizumi’s back to get him to line up, she appreciated volleyball just a little more.

When Oikawa threw his white kneepad into a garbage bin unceremoniously, she held back any comments or questions. His kneepad being thrown away was the end of a chapter for him. His mom got after him for throwing away a perfectly good kneepad, but she just gently put a hand on Oikawa’s mom’s shoulder and made an expression to not push the kneepad incident further. It’s not until a month after that loss to Karasuno that Oikawa and her get into an argument.

At the dinner party his parents throw annually Oikawa sneaks a glass of beer and sips it outside on the balcony. People chatter inside the house, talking about how much Takeru has grown up and what a lovely couple Oikawa’s sister and her husband are.

She comes out to the balcony to escape the adults asking her about her life. Too many questions about boys, books, and her future for her to have a settled stomach. Outdoor air always calmed her stomach down.

“Tooru, being naughty are you?” She puts a finger on the rim of his red plastic cup. He turns his head away to hide his blush. She just laughs a little in response.

“Are you ready to be done with high school?” She asks. Leaning over the railing, her hands clasp onto each other. Elbows splayed out on the metal railing, and Oikawa copies her so that his elbow is touching hers.

“I think so.” He answers. Oikawa takes a drink from his cup, the starchiness coating his throat uncomfortably. “I’ll be going away after graduation. Argentina.”

He wants her to ask him to not go.

“That’s amazing! Tooru, I’m so glad that you’ve found a path to follow.” Her smile betrays the way her stomach can hardly take the news. She’s just the friend of his older sister, she’s just someone who watches out for him. Why would he, a brilliant person, ever halt his destiny for her?

“Yeah, I’ll be playing for a team that I think could be fun.”

She forces another smile.

He forces a smile back. But then he gets upset. Why should he have to pretend like everything is fine? He thinks she deserves to know how he feels.

“You know, I’d be more fun if you were there too. With me.”

“You’re funny, did you know that?” She fakes a laugh, “Me in Argentina? I hate summers here, imagine how I’d react to the weather in Argentina.”

“You’d adapt. You always do.”

“That’s kind of you to say.”

He turns to her, putting the hand that wasn’t holding his drink on her hip. She tries to detach from him, but he just grips her tighter, linking a finger through her jean loop and tugging her into him closer. He loves it when she’s close to him. She relaxes into the hold he has on her.

“I want to offer you so much more than just kindness.”

Biting on her lip, it was her turn to move her face away from his stare, hiding the way her eyes kept flickering across his face and landing on his lips.

She wasn’t unaware that Oikawa felt something towards her, but she diminished his feelings as a crush that kids have on older girls. Each time they met, she realized that that wasn’t the truth. He saw her and she didn’t appreciate the way that he would look at her. He looked at her like she was his lifeline.

“I think your sister is calling for me.” Oikawa’s sister was in her old room putting her son to sleep.

Oikawa kept pulling her into him, their hips fully touching now. He ran a hand over her arm, from her elbow to her wrist. “You can’t keep avoiding me.” It’s a tone that is lightly sing-song but also carries a grittiness.

She hadn’t been around his house as frequently as of late. Using school or work as an excuse to not watch movies or let him try to teach her volleyball again.

“I’m not avoiding you.” She wriggled, trying to escape him but not putting much effort into her withdrawal.

“Don’t lie.” His tone now balances on the edge of a knife, one side was a typical cheeky silly tone, and the other was an abrasively tormented tone.

“I’m not interested in you like that, Tooru.” It was a last-ditch attempt to see how far he was willing to go. How close he was going to come to ripping apart their fragile friendship. She didn’t have any sewing materials left in store to repair what was going to occur.

He swallows thickly, eyes searing into hers. “You’re being mean.” His tone had fallen over and landed flat on the tormented side.

He lets the words sting her, not softening their blow. Oikawa wonders if she’s lying or telling the truth. It was a fine line between whether he should urge the issue to finally crack her shell or if she was being honest and she was totally out of his reach.

Managing to finally break away from the way Oikawa lured her in, she went into the main kitchen that opened into the living room where everyone was making conversation. He downs the rest of his alcohol and tosses the plastic cup into the outdoor trash can.

Oikawa doesn’t know how many more drinks he steals from the kitchen, watching her talk to people and gently touch shoulders in acknowledgment and understanding.

The moment Oikawa accidentally and drunkenly breaks a vase with zinnias, primroses, and calla lilies, his parents shut down the party. His sister heads out, asking her best friend if she needs a ride home. She says that she’s good, she’ll enjoy the February blossoms on a walk home.

Oikawa’s mom asks if she’ll check on Oikawa before she leaves. She says she doesn’t know if that would be a good idea, but Oikawa’s mom begs to differ. As it turns out, when she was outside the house, talking to her best friend, Oikawa hit his hand against the concrete wall of his house. His mom had bandaged most of the scrapes, but she couldn’t do anything about the way his eyes seemed empty.

She wonders if his aversion to her right now had anything to do with his earlier confession and her adamant rejection. Or if his anger is all due to his volleyball woes. She reasons that it ultimately has to be the loss to Karasuno.

“You’re letting yourself get bothered? You’re letting this moment tick you off and you go and punch a wall?” She’s knocking harder on his door. “Get off your ass and face me.”

“Go away.”

“You’re falling down a path that I can’t save you from. Tooru, listen to me please.” He doesn’t respond. She hears the ticking of the clock in his room from where she sits outside his bedroom door, her head resting against the wood.

On the other side of the door, he’s hugging his legs on his bed, his face on top of his knees as he glares at the doorknob where the lock is turned. His stubborn, obstinate, unyielding pride prevents him from getting up and opening the door so he can cry everything out and so she can hold him. He just wants her to hold him.

This fit isn’t about volleyball anymore, it’s about them. She knows it. The way that he sealed her into his life and now that she wants to be unstitched. He feels wounded.

She investigates. “Are you ready for whatever you’ll go through throughout your life? People will probe you, instigate you, and deride you infinitely worse than what I’ve ever said to you.” People will be able to say they love you and I can’t.

He opens the door, “No one will ever hurt me more than you hurt me. You hold so much more power over me than anyone else,” He waves his hand that’s wrapped in white cloth to emphasize his point. “You make me feel like this. Like every emotion is dialed to one hundred.”

“I can’t choose how you feel. I can’t make you feel anything.” She pokes him in the chest. “You’re a child and you’re acting like it too, get over your facade and get over your surface-level crush on me. You don’t know me and don’t you ever pretend like you do.”

He raises his hand, she reacts with a flinch. He finished the motion, he was going to run his hand through his hair. His stomach drops and he realizes that she just thought he was going to slap her.

It's a whisper of, “I’d never hurt you.”

He backs into his room, wanting to disappear from the exchange. The argument ended there.

“I know, I just reacted, it’s okay.” Hearing his barely audible whimpers, she crosses the threshold of his door. A suitcase is half-filled in the corner, with clothes hanging out of the case. A book on speaking Spanish is on top of his laptop.

The silence is cut with the shuffles of their feet on his carpet and intermittent sniffles.

His chest tightens, short releases of air paired with overzealous inhales. “I miss you even when you’re around. How is that possible?”

“I don’t know.” She sits on his bed, and he curls into her side, rubbing his nose on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. My words failed me, I’m a liar. Tooru, you know me better than my family does.”

He kisses her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her neck. Hot breath is on the side of her face.

“I need you to let me go. I’m not your person.” She wishes she was, but she felt like she just wasn’t.

Oikawa can’t help the crack in his voice, “Why do you get to decide that?”

“I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers.”

“To me you do, you have all my answers.”

They begin to cry at the same time.

He replicates what he remembers her doing to him so many times. Caressing her hair and pressing his lips to the top of her head repeatedly. She seems so much smaller than him nowadays. He’s been six feet tall for a while now but only when she began to seem removed did he realize that he’s bigger than her.

“Tooru.”

He mutters in response. They had begun to lay in his bed, with Oikawa pulling blankets up to cover the both of them, his arm encasing her waist and keeping her close to him. His ceiling fan kept spinning overhead. He had his head on the pillow and wanted her to just release the stiffness in her body and soften into his touch.

“Tooru?” She tries to sit up, but he’s tired of that and refuses to let her go. She faces him, twisting around in the embrace. Both their heads are on pillows now, he keeps his eyes closed. “I want you to know that I do love you.”

He raises his eyebrows in wariness, unsure of where she’s taking her words.

“I love you but I can’t be what you want. I can be a sister figure, I can be a best friend, I can be someone you can talk to, but I cannot be a lover.”

Oikawa wanted to hug her tighter, but he was already leaving imprints on her waist that were sure to leave light bruises and tenderness the next day. All he can say in response is a hum.

As soon as Oikawa had fallen asleep, she left.

The dreamer and reality face-off was Oikawa’s least favorite thing. The way that he could dream all he wanted, but reality failed to match those expectations. People always say that the future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams, but where’s the beauty in knowing that your future is sullied because of being born in the wrong year? For being born in the wrong life this time. For being born as the person she wasn’t going to end up with.

The spring after his graduation, Oikawa was messing around with her. He had to have been. Their fight at the dinner party weighed on them, but more so on her.

She wonders if she made the right choice. Her feelings had flipped on her and she knew it. Instead of pushing him away due to her unease about the age difference, she pushed him away because she was afraid of how deeply she would fall.

All the times her friends had teased her about being a cradle-robber, or a cougar for having such a smitten boy around her, she had let those comments get to her. It was ironic, the same hyperfixation that Oikawa had for volleyball was matched in her hyperfixation on the way she was older than him and tried to always act like it too.

Oikawa decided to stay persistent. He knew that she still appreciated that quality about him. He wanted to put his ambition to good use.

He lounged without a shirt around his sister’s place when she was there to visit. He’d caught her looking at him once, or three times, and the way he could see her begin to play with her fingers, wringing them out was more than enough for him to embrace a level of confidence he hadn’t shown to her before. He was on the older end of eighteen, she was on the cusp of twenty into twenty-one.

She had been looking at pictures, trying to avoid where Oikawa took up space in the living room. It had been ten minutes since his sister had left and she hadn’t said anything to him, not even a greeting. He did not appreciate that.

If she was so insistent on being anything to him but a lover, then he would treat her like that.

Wrapping arms around her may have been the breaking point, but he committed to the final blow, “Hey best friend.” She rattled out a titter, but any move she made would result in her brushing against the bare skin of his arms, or his chest, or worst-case his stomach.

He rests his chin on her shoulder, “Oh wait, you wanted to be called sister yeah?”

She gritted her teeth, still trying to decode a breakaway moment. Oikawa’s sister was stuck in traffic from picking up some fast food. Takeru was at daycare, the husband was at work. It would be just Oikawa and her for another twenty minutes or so. She hoped he wouldn’t be so insistent to keep touching her for the entire duration until his older sister returned.

“My name works perfectly fine Oikawa.”

He turns her around, still grasping her, “Oikawa?” He tisks, sliding his hands from her back to her waist. “That doesn’t sound right to me.”

Within her shoes, she kept wiggling her toes uncomfortably.

“I know your name, and you know mine,” He lowers his voice, “So use my name.”

Shaking her head she closes her eyes.

“C’mon, it’s just two syllables. Too-ru. Your turn.”

Adamantly she leaned away from where she could feel his breath, increasing the span between them.

“Sisters and brothers use each other's given names.” He tightens his hold, one hand on the small of her back and the other on her waist still. He leveraged his lack of a shirt to see how close he could get, knowing she didn’t want to touch him. She’d let him get away with slipping around her while she stayed frozen in place.

“Stop it! We are not related!” She opened her eyes and stomped her foot a little. Her jaw was clenched and her eyes were wide.

“Good. Never wanted you as a sister anyway.” He wanted her in extremely not sisterly ways.

“Tooru quit it.”

“Why? Isn’t this what best friends do? They tease, they taunt, they play.” Oikawa grips her face, smushing it gently in his left hand. He smiles at her. His grip was so delicate but his touch was heated.

The best response had to have been dishing up what he was serving. So she slid her hand over his chest, resting on his pectoral. He could feel the vein in his neck pulsing. He drops his hold on her and takes a step back, his calf hitting the coffee table. Her step forward to him is calculated.

He wishes he was wearing his shirt now.

“We can play whatever you want Tooru.”

He stutters.

“How cute.” She pinches his cheek, then puts her hand back on his chest.

The door handle turns and she drops her hand, fixing her shirt a little from where Oikawa had grabbed at her. Oikawa doesn’t even notice her move to pick up a book and scan through the pages in the far corner of the living room.

Oikawa’s sister had bags of greasy food and she jutted out her hip, “I got the good stuff.” His sister scans the room, “Put a shirt on. Is it too hot in here? You’re red from the ears down.”

“I’m good.”

“Weirdo.” Oikawa’s sister rolls her eyes at him, “Now, let’s eat.”

Their dynamic bounced between them. Oikawa pushing and pulling in various directions, while she tried her best to stay still. He did settle down, calming his nerves.

Could say he did everything if he didn’t give one last attempt for her heart?

He’s twenty now, and she’s twenty-two. He asked if she would go on a car ride with him. She agreed. Piling snacks and drinks into her passenger side, she asked where they would be going. He sidetracks.

They end up at a beach, far along the coastline. There’s a rocky platform, but they crawl down to the sandy area, where the water laps up the seashells trying to bring them home to the cold ocean.

He postponed Argentina for two years. One month was left on his pause before going where he knew he needed to be. His club would only wait so long for him before his spot would be filled.

He sits on the large towel he brought. She’s picking through seashells, squatting by the water.

An idea runs through his head. He doesn’t let it die out. He’s just a kid after all.

He pushes her into the water with a laugh, she splashes him by lifting her cupped hands and dumping salty water over his head. He catches her by the torso, but she manages an escape and starts going further into the water, he just follows after her.

They shiver as they stand both waist-deep in the ocean. His hair is sticking to his forehead, and her teeth chatter but it doesn’t detract from the way she’s smiling.

Oikawa swims closer to her. There’s maybe an inch between them. He lays all his cards on the table when he holds her face in his hands. Goosebumps riddle the expanse of their bodies.

“Since I can’t have you in this life, I want just one more memory with you.” A shiver runs through her. Oikawa continues, “So before I leave, I need you to promise that we’ll find each other in the next life regardless of who we are?”

“We’ll find each other, in every life. Just like how we found each other in this one.” She’s quiet, but he can hear her perfectly. She’s trying to make herself seem older with her words, more mature. She grasping onto straws making it seem like she isn’t wrecked by what he’s asking.

She moves her fingers through the water, he takes his hands away from her face so he can position her hands onto his shoulders. He goes back to cupping her face. She wraps her arms around his neck and lets their bodies mold against each other.

Their clothes are soaked through, her long sleeve is getting stretched out from the waves. Sweatpants absorb the icy water and stick to their legs. His shirt is clinging to him and leaving an exact outline of his torso.

Oikawa’s a little choked up but he wants her to know what he’s thinking so he gets the words out. “Promise we’ll end up together in the next life?” He moves his head so their foreheads are touching.

“How we are right now, again?” She splays her fingers, intertwining the hair at his nape between each finger, he shudders from the contact.

“No. Like we were meant to be. Like we were made for each other. I want to find us as lovers.”

She lets the weight of her head fall into his hands and he lets out a short muted sigh of relief at how the tip of her nose hits his.

“Okay.”

His eyes flicker to her lips, she notices. He brings his head down a little, “Just once? Once where you kiss back?”

She’s softer with how she kisses than he is. She’s more experienced, but she goes slower than Oikawa expects. It’s just pecks, and he wants more. When he licks her bottom lip, it’s salty from the ocean, but he thinks she tastes perfect. He can’t help the way that he moans into the kiss or the way he grabs her thighs and makes them wrap around his hips.

It’s all in the way she’s the first one to slide her tongue into his mouth slightly.

He wants to consume each noise she makes. He hardly notices the way he runs out of breath when he starts moving from her lips to her jaw and then back to her mouth. When she backs her head away, his head keeps coming to follow hers, trailing her lips with his.

Pressing a hand right below his neck, her fingers touching his shoulderbone, she makes distance between them so she can force Oikawa to pause and get some air.

“I lied.” Oikawa’s eyes are blown out, pupils dark and filling in his irises. She purses her lips, and she goes to loosen the way her legs are around him, but he holds her where he wants her. Legs still around him. “I lied because I know I can’t wait until our next life. I need you in this life, and all the other ones.”

She goes to speak, but he keeps going. “I’ll make it work, I’ll make everything work out the way it should. I just want you to say yes. I want you to want to say yes. I need you to say yes to me because I don’t think my soul could take anything less than your entirety.”

He pauses and she opens her mouth again, Oikawa doesn’t know when to stop and the words rush out, “One more- I’ll be quick.” He steals an open-mouthed kiss, running his tongue over hers.

She rolls her eyes, and Oikawa steals another peck on her lips.

“Okay, two more.” He shrugs a little, “I’m not any sort of genius, yet, but I know that I was meant to be yours. Maybe I knew it when I was seven, maybe I knew it when you shoved that stupid counterclock in my asinine face and told me to go to bed. But I know it.”

The sun officially setting made the water so much colder, so she tucked her head into his neck, “I love everything you’re saying right now but I’m freezing.”

“You love what I’m saying?”

“I’m cold Tooru. Focus please.” He lets out a sound of understanding. It’s cute how she waddles out of the water, but he realizes he’s probably doing the same side to side penguin walk.

He picks up the towel and waves it out so the sand gets off the fibers, then he wraps it around her shoulders. He’s hugging her from behind and pressing small kisses to the side of her face. Attempting to get back up to the car with him attached like a koala is difficult but not impossible.

The engine of the car is running, and he fidgets with the heater. He has a tic where he’ll mess with the amount of air blowing, then the level of heat, and then go back to the amount of air. Each knob he twists changes the temperature until he finally settles on a lull of heat.

Her head is resting against the window, getting slightly rocked by the movement of the car on the road. The towel was still wrapped around her. Oikawa had found another one in the trunk and had it wrapped around his waist, he had forgone a shirt since the heater was working just right and he didn’t want a wet t-shirt on anymore.

“I meant what I said you know.” Oikawa had one hand on the wheel and one hand on her armrest. “I’m going to make everything work out the way it needs to work out.”

“Mm-hm.”

“I’m yours now.” Oikawa lets his smug smile roam on his face.

“Mine? No title? Not boyfriend?”

Oikawa moves the hand from the armrest onto her thigh, “The title I’m settling for is husband or soulmate. Take your pick. I’ll propose soon, don’t worry angel.”

She tilts her head up and laughs. He rubs his thumb over her knee.

In contrast to the way his hair had a halo in the sun, she had a halo made of stars and the moon. Instead of creating an outline of her hair, the night sky embedded itself and adorned her. Rather than trying to amplify her, the moon and stars realized she naturally had a halo around her and wanted to say congratulations by shining through her rather than on her.

Although she declines the first four proposals, she accepts the one right before he leaves. Oikawa would never tell her but he was relieved that she accepted, he couldn’t handle the idea of him not being around and her getting moved in on by some other guy- despite her telling him consistently that she would turn other guys down.

The ring didn’t act like a perfect deterrent, but it made him feel secure. He liked that she wore all the stuff he got her on the same hand, his ring and his bracelet from way long ago.

Oikawa sends her a new jersey almost every month, with his signature across the front near his player number. He also sends all sorts of knick-knacks he finds in Argentina. He makes a point of calling when she’s eating lunch, and he’s about to go to bed so that she doesn’t have to stay awake to answer his calls. His mom and sister get annoyed that he spends hours talking to her but only minutes talking to them. He tells them that true love takes precedence over family.

She has to chastise him to get him to actually stay on call with his mom for longer than thirty minutes.

They fight a few times about where to live. He wins the argument and she moves to Argentina once she officially graduates college.

An apartment filled with her stuff and his stuff side by side makes him giddy. But he especially gets excited with the fact that he gets the side of the bed closest to the bedroom door, and she gets the side furthest away from the bedroom door.

Sometimes he’ll stay up much too late, his back against the headboard of their bed watching volleyball videos.

“Tooru, go to bed.” She nuzzles against her pillow a little more, her back towards him as she tries to avoid the light of the laptop screen on his legs.

“One more video.” He clicks on a replay of a match that goes all the way to five sets with commentary during each timeout instead of the video cutting to the next play.

When he chuckles a little, she turns over and shuts the laptop. “Bedtime.” She makes a fake sleeping sound. Oikawa sets the laptop on his side table, turning the table light off.

She lifts her head so Oikawa can put his arm under her head. She presses a kiss to his bicep.

“What’s the clock say?”

He slings his leg over her torso and puts his other arm across her stomach.

“It’s not even midnight yet.” She clicks her tongue and he fixes his response. “It’s 23:14.”

He kisses the corner of her mouth. When she doesn’t say anything, he gives her a real kiss. Still no response and he licks the length of her jaw to her chin. She lets out a small din of disgust.

“Fine! Goodnight Tooru.”

He whines a little.

She groans. She sits up a little and leans over him, ruining the positioning she had spent minutes working on. She rests the length of her arms on either side of his head, her face right above his.

One of her hands begins to play with his hair, which begins to twirl around her fingers, softly grazing her palm. He uses his arm to force her back down so that her chest is pressed to his, he lets out a coo to express gratification when her weight is on top of him.

“I love you, my pretty boy.” She kisses his cheek, “Handsome, intelligent, angelic, slightly egotistical-” He nips her bottom lip. “I love you, goodnight, I’ll be here in the morning.”

He’s living his dream. There’s no difference between his dreams and reality now. No gaps to fight against. Only a pair of invisible halos for the rest of their lives.

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oracle-of-dream · 11 months

Text

The Boy Next Door

Minors DNI

Summary: You recently moved into a new town, so you decided to talk a walk around. While trying to find your way around you bump into your new neighbor, Jeno Lee, who's willing to show you around.

Warnings: Pet names, Dom!Jeno, big dick Jeno, Oral sex (male receiving), cum swallowing, Male reader, hand job, Jeno's trying his best to hold back

Wordcount: 3k

Your parents just finished helping you move some of your boxes into your new apartment in town. You only moved so you could attend the nearby university, but they acted like you were leaving for war. Asking almost every five seconds, “Are you sure you wanna live here?” Or trying to get you to promise you’ll call every week. You had to push them out the door as you told them goodbye. They went down the stairs, telling you how much they loved you every few steps. You watched them walk to their car, about to close your door, until you saw your mom stop to talk to two guys.

You held the door open just enough to see what was going on. There were two men; one tall with black hair and a white sleeveless shirt with muscular arms, but his back was to you so you couldn’t see his face. The other was shorter than him with longer black hair with a black jacket and jeans, also facing away from you. You were tempted to go downstairs and push your mom into the car, but you saw her point at your apartment door and the two guys turned to look. You closed the door before you got to see their faces at all, feeling your ears and cheeks warming up.

“Goddammit,” you cursed to yourself as you went to start unpacking. You had a feeling that your mom was meddling in your life already, one of the reasons you’d left home in the first place. You started unpacking your clothes from your suitcases, the rest of the boxes would be brought in by the movers who would be around later in the day.

About twenty minutes into unpacking, there was a knock at the door.

You answered it, opening it slowly. “Yes?”

There were two men at your door, whom you recognized as the ones whom your mom spoke to. The shorter one waved, “Hi! I’m Renjun, and this is Jeno,” he pointed at the taller man behind him. Renjun had two-toned hair going from black to silver, straight eyebrows, and a frame that would put most people into gender envy in a moment. While Jeno, has an even tan, an incredible jawline, and a side profile that should’ve been the face of a magazine. Jeno didn’t speak very much, but he was watching every move you made, it felt like he was sizing you up… “Your parents stopped us when we were coming back from our errands and let us know that you’re our neighbor! So I thought it would be a good idea to come over and meet you.” You tried to focus on Renjun speaking to you, but it was had with Jeno looking so intently at you.

“T-That’s really nice of you. I’m y/n.” You replied.

You and Renjun talked for a few minutes. He told you that he’s a student–and so is Jeno, at the university. They’ve been here a year and are part of a friend group that Renjun wanted to introduce you to. As Renjun was telling you about his friends, you could hardly hear him clearly over the sound of your heart. It was racing with anxiety from Jeno staring at you.

Renjun looked off, thinking of anything else to say. “I think we have to do more stuff around town, but I hope we can see you again soon! I’ll call the others over and we can maybe do something all together.”

You smiled shyly, “Yeah, that sounds great.”

Renjun and Jeno went into their apartment, Jeno made eye contact with you just as soon as he turned to close and lock his door. And when you closed your door, it felt like you finally snapped back to reality. You tried to shake off the feelings and continue unpacking.

After a few hours, the movers arrived at your apartment and started moving in the furniture. So you took that as a chance to get out and explore a little of the area around the apartment. You told the movers where you’d like things and to contact you when they finished, and then you took off.

The town was pretty nice. Kind-of quiet except for campus, so you spend most of your time walking around the school. Trying to see where your classes would be and finding relaxing places on campus for future study plans. You spent more time mindlessly walking before you realized you didn’t know where you were.

You reached in your pocket to try and google your way back home–but couldn’t find it. You searched all your pockets again and checked around on the ground, even walking around some of the places you’d been before. It was gone. You sat down on a nearby bench with no phone and even more lost than you started.

“Well… Shit.” You cursed under your breath, trying to think of a solution. You closed your eyes trying to think back to when the last time you saw your phone was and where you might’ve left it. You remember using it in the car with your parents, but when you started moving it was a blur–a sudden shock of cold hit your neck and snapped you out of thought. You shot up, eyes wide, “WHAT THE FUC–”

You saw Jeno standing next to you, looking deep into your eyes, with a bottle of water in his hand.

“Oh… hey Jeno,” you sat back down.

“Hey.” He said back, handing you the water this time.

You gently took it back from him.

“What’s going on?” His voice was deep and vibrated your eardrums listening to it.

“It’s nothing, I think I dropped my phone somewhere. And I’m a little lost, so I don’t know how exactly to walk back home from here.” It felt more embarrassing to say it out loud,

Jeno’s eyes were soft with understanding. “Do you to borrow my phone, to call it?” Jeno offered his phone to you.

You took it and typed in your number. It rang a few times before someone picked up. “Hello?”

You were shocked to hear your mom on the other side of the phone. “Mom!? Why do you have my phone?”

“Y/n! I found it in the car! You must’ve left it here. I’ll bring it over tomorrow.”

You could slam your head on a tree. Now you’ll have to kick her out again when she comes over… But at least your phone wasn’t stolen.

“Who’s phone are you calling from?”

You tried to wrap up your call with your mom quickly as she started asking questions. “It’s my neighbor’s, he’s going to help me get back home. I gotta go now, bye.” You hung up before she could continue the interrogation.

You turned to Jeno with a shy smile. “My mom has it… I left it in her car.”

He nodded a little. “Do you need to do anything else, or should we head back to the apartment?”

“We can go back, I have nothing else to do.”

You followed Jeno to the parking lot. Since school hadn’t started yet there weren’t any cars other than a black motorcycle waiting in the parking lot.

“Is this yours?” You pointed at it.

He smiled, “Y-yeah, I fixed it myself.” His smile made his whole demeanor seem softer and you felt a knot in your stomach swell.

He reached into his backpack and handed you a helmet with a bunch of video game stickers on it. “I wasn’t expecting company, so I only have one helmet.” You struggled to put it on until Jeno took it from you and slid it onto your head. “Can you come closer?” He asked.

You shuffled a little closer as you felt his thick arms wrap around you to reach the back of the helmet. You tried to look up at his face, but he moved you back down–leaving you just to stare at his chest. You thought about what it would feel like if you touched it, squishy maybe. Or maybe his harder because he’s moving his arms right now. You could feel yourself twitching at the thought of touching him, but mentally slapped yourself for being so horny. Jeno was just trying to be helpful…

When Jeno finished affixing the helmet to you, he got onto the motorcycle and waited for you to get comfortable behind him. “It’s okay to hold tight, I know it might be scary.” Like he read your mind, he could feel you being hesitant about holding his waist, he pulled your hands around him anyway and made sure you were holding him tight. His waist was surprisingly small for his broad torso.

When Jeno started the engine and the both of you started moving, you gripped a little tighter. He started slowly out of the parking lot and slowly picked up speed on the street. The drive wasn’t very far, but it felt like a movie to you. Riding around, sunset behind you, and Jeno’s insane visual looking over his shoulder at you. There was a bump in the road that shook you a little and your hands loosened their grip a little, in a panic you scrambled to grab onto Jeno again. You held him by the waist of his pants, too scared to shift more. I felt him shift and something hit your hand, something hard.

Was he hard? You thought to yourself. The thought that he was hard while you were pressed against him made you… feeling something. You leaned more into him, letting your hands slowly drift down his stomach. You felt it again, just for a moment.

You needed more. You decided to get a little bolder, reaching down again and rubbing your hand against it. Jeno’s back arched softly and he shifted, almost grinding against your hand.

“Y/n?” Jeno said softly.

You stopped and realized you were home. “Sorry!” You let go and almost fell off the motorcycle.

Jeno’s gaze was sharper than before like he was angry. He opened his mouth to speak, “I–”

“I’m sorry, Jeno. It was an accident, really. I barely noticed it!” You lowered your head in shame.

Jeno walked close to you, so close you could hear his breath hitting the helmet. He unbuckled the helmet in one swift move and slid it off you. “Why are you sorry?” He asked.

You were at a loss. “I… I was–”

“Touching me?” Jeno’s voice was stern.

You braced for him to explode at you, with your eyes closed. But instead, he held your hand and guided it. You felt him again. You opened your eyes to see Jeno slip your hand under his shirt, rubbing you against his abs.

“What’s going on?” You asked.

“You wanted to touch me, right? At least do it where I can see you, and touch you back.” Jeno let go of your hand, leaving it under his shirt and watched you. “So touch me then, you can still do that. Right, Kitty?”

Being called Kitty was almost enough to make you pass out. But being told to basically grope him outside your apartment felt mental. “C-Can’t we go inside,” you begged.

“I’ll only come in you if you want me to.”

You nodded. “I want to inside.”

He chuckled. “Careful what you wish for.”

You brought Jeno to your apartment, fumbling with your keys as he stood almost on top of you.

“You think these walls are soundproof?” He knocked on the wall.

You hurried to get your key out of your pocket and jam it into the lock. You opened the door and held it open for him. Jeno stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He deadbolted the door shut.

“Baby boy, can you hear me?” Jeno said, slowly walking to you.

You stumbled over your words, “y-yes. I can.”

“Then why didn’t you answer me? Are these walls soundproof?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know…”

“Well need to find out then.” He smiled. You felt a rush zip through you, and you felt your tip already creaming from his words. “Come touch me, now.”

You walk to him and awkwardly touch his chest.

He chuckled. “You can have a little fun, I’ll tell you if you do bad.”

You started groping at his body, squeezing his boobs and lightly grinding against his leg. Jeno was wearing a black compression shirt and grey sweatpants, so it showed how much he was enjoying your touch. But his bulge was insane, it was maybe 9 inches long and 3 inches at its thickest part.

Jeno caught you looking. “You did this to me, so you have to accept it.” He pushed your hand down, past his waistband, and you got to hold it in your hands. He was cut, a little hairy, but most importantly huge. It was just as you guessed.

“Don’t sit there, start stroking it.” Jeno was more stern this time.

You softly started moving your hand, and he sucked in sharply. It pulsed and twitched in your hand. His balls were heavy too. He started to push against you, all the way into a wall. His head lay in the crook of your neck and he kissed it while his hands explored your body, focusing on your ass as he skillfully slid your pants off of you. He was really rough, squeezing and slapping it. But he calmed down when he heard you hiss in pain from one smack.

“You okay?” He was colored with concern, but couldn’t bring himself to look at your face. Leaving his head buried in your neck.

“Y-Yes, it was good. Again. Please.”

Hearing you beg, made it difficult for him to try and keep himself together. All parts of him were moving. Jeno moved his legs and hips to time your hands, fucking into them. His mouth was working around your neck. And both his hands were playing with your ass.

The both of you were moaning into each other’s ears, drinking the other’s lust.

“Jeno,” you called. His big cock twitches at the sound of your voice filling his ears. “Kiss me, please.”

He cupped your face. You smashed your lips on him, it was messy and hot, tongue everywhere and spit dripping down your connected mouths. His hands reacted automatically, one hand gripped at your hair and the other groped your ass.

“Y/n, I’m really trying to hold it in, but I don’t know if I can anymore.” Jeno almost whined.

“Just tell me what you want.”

"Baby, I need you.”

“Can I suck your dick?” You asked so politely, how could he refuse? Nodding his head with anticipation. He watched you drop to your knees and slowly slid off his pants. Jeno went commando to the gym today and was even more thankful now. His dick slapped against his stomach as you set it free. Jeno already was moving his hand to your head to move you closer. You take his length into your hands and rub the precum over his tip.

“Holy fuck, you haven’t even started and I already feel like I’m gonna cum,” his voice straining, another groan leaves his lips as you gather spit to lubricate his cock. You decide to take your time, enjoying the way his eyes begged desperately as you give his cock small licks. “ I can’t hold it anymore, gonna fuck your mouth.” Before you could say anything, your mouth is filled with his dick. His hand is pushing you in, the tip of his member is hitting the back of your throat, and his eyes are rolling to the back of his head as he feels you gag on him with each thrust. You could feel every vein on your tongue and the way his length was twitching in your mouth, seconds away from release. Jeno felt you gag really hard, and pulled you away from him to breathe.

He was shaking, weak from your mouth. “Holy… shit.” Jeno was taking deep breaths. “Are you okay beautiful?” He pulled your hair to tilt you to look at him and saw your blissed-out expression, mouth open with your tongue waiting for more. He was stunned.

"More please, Daddy," you mumbled as he gripped the sides of your head, your cheeks flushed and your forehead sweating more and more.

"Daddy's close, little one–can you keep up?" Jeno asked.

You nodded, never breaking eye contact with him.

Jeno slowly slid you back onto him, pushing his was completely inside your mouth. You squirmed and moved, shifting the muscles in your throat. “Y-you’re so tight sweetheart, gripping me so fucking tight,” Jeno swiped a tear away from your eye. “N-Now let’s take a minute. I don’t wanna cum yet.”

You wanted him to finish in your mouth. Now.

You started moving on your own. You gave licks to the underside as his dick was deep in your throat. With one final push, you bottomed out on his cock and deepthroated him fully, leaving Jeno’s mind hazy and body shaking. He tried to push you away or slow you down, but he was too weak to stop you. “Cumming,” he whispered, throwing his head back as his muscles tensed with every spurt of cum he releases into your pretty little throat. Jeno came hard, your name spilling out of his mouth as he rode his orgasm.

You dutifully swallow everything. He had a lot stored. Jeno slid down the wall, chest heaving up and down, trying to catch his breath, some of his hair plastered to his forehead and his temple.

Breathlessly, Jeno spoke, “I told you… I wasn’t ready. I didn’t get to fuck you yet.”

You giggled. “There’s always another time. I don’t think you can survive a round two with me.”

You slowly helped Jeno to his feet and pulled up his pants. His cock still coated in your spit. “Will I see you again?” You asked.

He mindlessly nodded. “I’d really like that.”

You kiss him on the cheek, smiling as if you didn’t just suck out his soul. “Then, I’m sure Renjun is waiting for you. Come by whenever you’re ready for that next time~”

Jeno slowly walked out the door in a haze, toward his apartment. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

You heard his door open and then shut.

“Jeno, where were you!?” Renjun shouted.

You closed your door and started unpacking your boxes. Looking for enough of a surprise to get Jeno ready for tomorrow.

#nct smut #jeno smut #jeno x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream smut #lee jeno smut #lee jeno x reader #jeno #lee jeno #jeno lee #kpop x male reader smut #jeno x male reader #oracle of dreams

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kiddiesmores · 28 days

Text

College!Ted NSFW under the cut, sorry i just needed to get this out, didn’t even care to edit anything LOLLL

Can’t stop thinking about college bf!Ted and you having sleepovers at your apartment. After freshman year you signed a lease at one of the nearby apartments with 3 of your friends, Ted doing the same.

So now you don’t have to walk across campus to sleep in a twin xl, y'all can just walk across the street! The thought of him lounging in your living room with your roommates (you’re all in a big group of friends) while you’re out, waiting for you to get home, to which you get upset when you do get back from class and you find out they smoked without you. Fuckin losers (they sparked up again when you got there, you’re fine)

Parties at your apartment are the best too, he’ll come over early, drop off a spending the night bag in your room as if he doesn’t like a solid 50 feet away your place, help set up the beer pong and the big jug for drinks that people paid $5 for, alcohol ain’t cheap!

When the party's over and you and the roommates congregate in your room to talk about how great it was while Ted uses your shower, albeit he’s still a little tipsy but he gets himself clean no matter what.

And he’s a GOSSIPER!! Talking about all the people he saw eyeing each other and how he caught people making out on the side of the house.

He takes your job in the morning cleaning up because your ass isn’t getting up, be serious.

When you miraculously make it down the stairs, sporting one of his shirts and some boxers, he returns back from the dumpster after taking out the third trash bag for the girls.

Yall look at each other for a moment, a soft smile on his face as he walks over to the stairway to lift you in his arms.

“Morning baby!” “Mornin..”

Then proceeds to give you a wet kiss on the side of your face making you groan and try to sleepily push his head away.

He laughs and carries you to the kitchen, asking if you’re hungry for anything to which you grimace, the thought of eating anything right now actually might make you throw up, and you’re on a no throwing up streak and it won’t end now.

You pat his shoulders, telling him to put you down, remembering you forgot your phone upstairs.

When you retrieve it you see that your roommates have left, the life360 you’re all on saying they all left the ‘traphouse’. You see in the gc that they said they’re going out to the store for a bit, and that they’ll be back in an hour or so.

But you know them, it’ll be longer. Which is good for you, great actually. Making your way back downstairs to find Ted making you both a toasted cinnamon bagel with cream cheese.

You look at him hungrily, not because of the food, but because of how bad you’ve been fiending for him. Everytime you guys wanted to fuck, your roommates would want to hang out, and you love them too much so you hold off on dick for them. And if you went to his place, there was too much testosterone from him staying with tucker, schlatt and charlie. So sex at your place is the go to.

He notices you, smiling as he puts your plate down in your spot, “I know you said you weren’t hungry, but I still think you should eat a little somethin, just to ease your stomach!”

You look at the plate, then back at him, sauntering over to wrap your arms around his neck.

“You know..” you mutter, pulling his face closer, “They went to the store for a bit..so we have a good hour or two alone…”

His cheeks redden a bit, coy smile on his lips as his hands grip onto your hips, “Yeah? What do you wanna do baby?” his voice rumbles in your ear, his grip tightening as he pulls you closer. “Want me to fuck you? Want it right here or can you make it up the stairs?”

You groan, hopping up and wrapping your legs around his waist, giggling as he rushes you up the stairs with a firm grip on your ass, your laugh echoing in the hall as he slams your door, throwing you down against your bed.

He can’t stop kissing you, sighing heavily against your lips while you grip onto his back, tongues sloppily gliding over each other while he presses his bulge against your sex, feeling yourself get wetter by the second.

“Fuck, I need you so bad.” you breathe, watching as he tosses his shirt off. He looks so yummy, his happy trail leading down and hidden underneath the band of his sleep pants, tent in his pants almost painful to look at.

He presses it against you, making you groan and push your head further into your silk pillows. He wastes no time pulling your boxers down, seeing your glistening cunt that’s been aching for him for so long.

“Fuck baby, how long you’ve been waiting for this hmm?” he chuckles, putting a pillow under your back . “Too fucking long.” you whine, watching his face make its way between your legs.

He laps at your pussy, your legs over his shoulders, a bit hiked up as your hands grip his hair, holding his face down as you moan and grind on his face. His glasses are pressed into his face, groaning as his hips roll against the bed while he finds salvation in the taste of your pussy, sucking your clit hungrily while his hands grip your thighs, squeezing the sides of his face so he can’t go anywhere.

The noises drive you crazy, the wetness from the smack of his lips against your wet cunt tied in with his groans as he grinds his hips into your mattress.

His tongue fucks you through your first orgasm, making you a little embarrassed at how quick you came already but it’s not your fault, you’ve been deprived of your man for too long.

He groans as he licks you clean, eyes lidded as he pulls back with your cum all over his mouth and chin. He lowers your legs back down, sliding his sleep pants and boxers off in a swift pull, almost slipping because of your silk sheets, making you laugh a bit to yourself.

Your laugh dies down as you take in his naked body, cock hitting his stomach as it’s finally released from its prison (his boxers)

Your legs slowly fall apart, inviting him inside. He grumbles out, “Wait a sec.” before grabbing one of your stuffed animals that held a secret compartment for where you hide your condoms. Your roommates love to snoop to find out if you and Ted actually get freaky because they’ve never heard you guys have sex, and you wanna keep up the mystery for as long as possible.

He grabs one, rolling it onto his aching cock before lining up at your entrance.

He slips in slowly, hissing at how warm and tight you felt around him, “Fuck baby, missed this.” he grunts, watching as your eyes roll, feet curling at the fullness. He doesn’t push in all the way, slowly thrusting half his length in and out of you while you whine and writhe beneath him. Your shirt has ridden up, your tits on display for him to lean down and suck on your hardening nipples.

The sounds of his cock sliding out of your pussy drives you crazy, feeling your head go dizzy as you clench around him.

“Fuck- fuck Ted, what’re you going so slow for, fuck me hard.” you huff, chest heaving. He chuckles to himself, groaning as you tighten, “Just trying to make sure I don’t hurt you baby, but if that’s what you want..”

His hands slide under your hips, lifting them up as he slips all the way in, making your head fall back with a loud moan, feet planted and curling into the sheets as he begins thrusting at a relentless speed.

Your tits bounce as he fucks you, legs lifting to wrap around his waist, moaning pathetically as you grip onto his back to pull him in for a hot kiss.

Neither one of you could keep up with it though, moaning against each other's lips as he hits the perfect spot deep inside you.

His glasses are fogging up, chest pressed against yours as he plunges deep into your aching pussy. It’s almost animalistic, his large hands gripping into your hips that will most definitely bruise later.

“Ted- Ted- Ted-“ “Yeah baby? Keep makin those pretty noises for me, you look so beautiful right now. Feel so fucking good, Imma give you whatever you want, whatever you want baby, fuck.” He babbles, hips stuttering as he feels himself getting closer.

You’re not far behind, head beyond dizzy from how good he feels, eyes rolled back blissfully as you can’t stop the pathetic broken moans from escaping you. If it didn’t feel so good your pride would probably be long gone since you pride yourself in keeping yourself quiet.

He slips two fingers in your mouth for you to suck on, which you happily take, tongue gliding between them as you keep heavy eye contact with him, lidded eyes gazing at each other as your tongue licks the tip of his fingers.

He moans at your lewdness, popping his fingers out your mouth before putting them in his own, making you moan.

“Teddy, m’so fuckin close..” you whimper, teeth sinking into his shoulder as you try to stop yourself from moaning too loud.

He huffs in your ear, lowering your hips down and holding your knees up to your chest, plowing down into your dripping pussy.

You yell out for him, strings of curses and pathetic moaning escaping you as you can feel yourself tightening around him, “Mmfuck, ted m’coming, coming!” “Me too princess, fuck, tighten around me like that again- good good.” He breathes

You don’t even process your orgasm at all, hitting you like a wave as you gush around his thick cock, mess spreading on the sheets beneath you that you’re gonna be mad as fuck about having to change later.

Ted cums soon after, a couple more thrusts before he buries deep inside with a deep groan before his cum splurges inside of you, breathing heavily into your ear.

The two of you lay there for a moment, lazily making out as he pulls out of you, pulling the condom off and tying it before tossing it into the trash next to your bed.

He collapses next to you, still breathing heavily when he pulls you against his chest, soothingly rubbing your back and whispering how much he loves you while peppering kisses on your forehead.

Your eyes lazily peer open, peeping the harsh bite mark you left on his shoulder, a tired chuckle escaping you, “Might wanna put something on that, think I broke skin..” you mumble, finger lightly grazing the bite making him laugh to himself. He runs a hand through his hair, fixing his glasses on his nose and inspecting the bite with a low whistle.

“Looks like you tried to take a chunk out of me!” “I did.”

He laughs, pulling you into another soft kiss, shifting to let you lay beneath him while he hovers above you.

You hear the life360 notif go off, signaling your roommates are back home again, making you groan.

But Ted doesn’t seem to get the hint, mouth moving to press kisses into your neck. You let him, duh, lightly tugging at his hair as you feel him getting hard again.

“Think you can give me one more round baby?” He mutters in your ear, lightly nipping your lobe making you laugh softly to yourself.

“Why? You gonna get off on the thought of people listening this time?” you tease lowly, lightly sucking on the skin of his neck as he does the same to you. Feeling yourself get hot at the sound of his groan.

What you don’t hear in the midst of riling your boyfriend back up, is one of your roommates walking up the stairs to barge into your room.

“Y/N we got you- AHHH!”

“AHH!!” you and Ted both yell back, eyes widening at the sight of your roommate who’s now covering her eyes. “I didn’t see much! Sorry! Sorry!” she stutters, navigating her way out and slamming your door, hearing her harsh stomping as she sprints downstairs, probably warning your other roommates about the two of you.

You let out a groan, rubbing your face with a small laugh, “Fuck, now they know we have sex for real!”

Ted laughs at you, kissing the side of your head, “Well at least the blanket was covering us for the most part..”

You hum, looking up at him for a moment, taking in how good he looks.

“Well…If you wanna keep going..” you whisper, hand cupping the back of his neck to pull him back in for a kiss, lips just centimeters away from his. “I can be quiet.”

He smiles devilishly, “Yeah? That turned you on didn’t it? And here you are trying to talk about me.”

“I have no idea what you are referring to.” You mutter, pulling him back into a kiss with a smile, you’ll just have to beg for forgiveness later.

#ted nivison #ted nivison x reader smut #ted nivision x reader #ted nivision smut #ted nivison x you smut #ted nivison imagine #this plagued my mind the minute i finished the build a boyfriend fic #apologies to the public #meow

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