#my teammate always thumb me down or shit on me because i was the last person standing

[chewysgummies]

Man, trying to grind for Larry and Lawrie mastery in any mode is gonna be such a chore to do

[hysteria-things]

i NEED more nate smut 🙏 do whatever plot you want

GOOD LUCK CHARM

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sub(ish)/soft!dom nate x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: it’s your boyfriend’s playoff game for his hockey team. he knows damn well he’s confident enough, but just in case wants you to be his good luck charm.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, oral (male receiving), p in v, praising, semi-public

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 918

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is my official coming out as a nate girl! recently i’ve been clawing at the walls for this man, and i hope you guys support my decision😔🙏

watching your boyfriend play hockey has always made you feel some way — like what he’s doing now.

it’s the big playoff game for somerville, especially against their biggest rivals. the other team isn’t here yet, so he’s just skating around with one of his teammates to warm up.

the stands start to fill slowly but surely, then you see nate get off the ice and check his phone. you wait patiently for his reaction, being that you texted him when he was on the ice.

you see him smile and laugh, thumbs typing away on the screen.

he’s a little taken aback by the boldness, but bites his lip and starts to undo his skates and gloves, leaving his helmet for last. “hey, where are you going?” his teammate says, leaning on the wall to talk with him. “the other team should be here any minute.”

“pre-game pee,” he says, eyeing you as you walk out of the stands and by the locker rooms. his friend chuckles and nods, skating away.

he maneuvers himself through some crowds until he spots you patiently waiting by the entrance of the boys’ locker room.

when nobody is around, he pushes you in by the face to kiss you hungrily. he carries you to the bathroom portion before you flip him around. now, he’s the one leaning against the sink instead of you.

you bite and pull on his bottom lip, causing him to groan once you move down to his neck. he grins contently when you bite down to leave a mark. “you’re going to fucking be the end of me.” he mumbles, cupping his hard-on through his uniform shorts.

you giggle into his neck, untying his shorts and getting down on your knees. you kiss the tip teasingly, his hips rutting forward from the suddenness.

sucking on the tip, he whines and starts to push your head down. you bob slowly so you can feel every inch of his dick on your lips.

his mouth hangs open, eyes fluttering back as he leans against the mirror. the palm of his hand rests on top of your head, letting you do all the work as low moans leave his lips.

“holy fuck.” he sighs. “fuck. just like that, baby.”

you hum, the vibration making the lower half of his body twitch.

his eyes are still closed, taking in how your warm mouth feels. especially when you hollow your cheeks and start to suck. that alone has nate’s chest heaving, squirming from above while he whimpers your name. “y/n, oh my god.” he bites back a loud moan, arching in the process. “fuck, fuck, fuck, i’m cumming.”

you feel his release shoot down your throat, the boy shakily gasping to catch his breath.

you lift yourself off the ground, wiping your lips seductively while looking into his eyes. “i need to fuck you so bad.” he says, grabbing your hips so you’re where he was seconds ago. he sits you on the sink, pulling down your SOMERVILLE HIGHLANDERS sweatpants.

he smirks noticing the no panties, completely soaked and ready. he loves when you do shit like that. “you wanted this, didn’t you?”

blushing, you nod your head and lean in the crook of his neck. your arms snake around the back, fists balled up on your hoodie sleeves. “please fuck me, nate.” you say, looking at him with puppy eyes.

aligning himself up with your wetness, he spreads your legs wider by the knees to have better access.

you both moan as he pushes in, the stretch feeling so uncomfortable yet so good.

the thrusts are slow so you can adjust like usual, but then he gets deeper. a sound way higher pitched than the others leave you. because somebody can still hear from outside let alone walk in, you bit down on your finger to muffle your noises.

his hands roam from your waist to your thighs, grunting each time he feels your walls around him. “faster, please.” you whimper out.

“you’re killing me.” he groans, rutting his pelvis faster into yours.

you rest your head on his chest, moaning into his jersey. “right there.” you whine, toes curling in your shoes.

he lifts one of your legs so your foot rests on the edge of the sink. you grip on, knuckles turning white. “nathan!” you squeal, his rhythm getting messed up.

even though it’s his name, he’d always prefer nate, but the way you moan and scream it fucks with his head. in a good way.

breathing heavily with his lip grazing your shoulder, he looks at you guys in the mirror with hooded eyes.

the way you pulse around him, holding on as he fucks you nice and deep, hitting just the right spot. he notices your legs shake in the reflection. “looks like someone’s about to cum on my cock like a good girl.” he whispers into your ear.

that alone has you shaking harder. “uh-huh.” you answer incoherently. there’s no doubt some drool is on his shirt since your eyes are rolled back with pleasure and your mouth is agape.

he watches intently at where you’re conjoined. he nods in approval once your cum starts to slowly ooze out and onto his base. “that’s my girl.”

you love the way he praises you. it always makes your brain fuzzy.

he pulls out, finishing on your stomach. grinning widely, he kisses your temple. “thank you, baby.” he says, knowing that you’ll forever be his good luck charm.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @sturniol0s @catalina-island @mbsbaby @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopeno1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual

[possibilistfanfiction]

legitimately fuckin obsessed with the avatrice football au my dude. that last snippet brought me pure JOY im tellin you what

[well here's some ava pov while i procrastinate ch3 plot lol, s/o to @unicyclehippo for the worst/best gay pun of all time, love u. honestly this is long enough to put on ao3 so ... i'll do that in a footy au series i suppose for context... justice for chanel lol]

///

waking up from your first surgery is a blur, mostly an inexplicable terror when you can’t feel your legs, when you can barely move your fingers. tears leak from your eyes and you can’t wipe them, can only let them roll down into your temples. but then there’s a hand in yours, and chanel’s comforting touch, her voice soft.

‘it’ll be okay, ava,’ she says.

it won’t be okay, you’re certain of it, because you’d been taken straight from the field to the hospital, and then right into surgery, your kit cut off so that they didn’t move your spine more than you already had. you love football; you love football, the feeling of being so at home in your body, the feeling of going fast and the delight of the burn in your muscles, of not being afraid of anything.

‘i’m really scared.’ you look at chanel, showered and gorgeous, in a team issued bomber that seems impossibly elegant, even now. 

‘yeah,’ she grants, swipes her thumb against your cheeks and into your hair, catching your tears. she grabs a tissue and wipes your nose, which, from anyone else, would be absolutely horrifying, but she does it with so little fanfare and you’re in pain and also not pain — the worse option — you can’t even really care. she’s your favorite teammate: kind and brave and funny. she’s your friend. ’you’re gonna get through this, though.’

‘i don’t — i don’t want to.’

you don’t even quite know what you mean, still out of it because of pain meds and anesthesia, but chanel sighs gently.

‘you will. one day, you will.’

/

you don’t, not for a long time. after your fifth surgery you kind of tell yourself that you’ve definitely given up on football; they move you to a long-term rehab facility specifically for spine injuries, which is better than the hospital for sure, but it’s still hours and hours of physical and occupational therapy that leaves you feeling discouraged more often that not. once the inflammation starts to go down in your spine, you start to, at least, regain some function in your arms and hands, and after your sixth surgery, things are, you’ll admit, more hopeful. at the very least, you’ll be able to do things like use a manual chair and cook and type emails. 

you’re not great at texting yet; your occupational therapist is always telling you that if you worked on writing, and holding cutlery, and even more boring, pointless shit like pick up sticks, you’d have an easier time, but, whatever, you can type with the pointer finger of your right hand and it gets the job done. chanel visits as often as she can, most days in the late morning, which feels particularly generous in the off season when she could be being glamorous somewhere else, probably invited to paris fashion week or something. she brings makeup — expensive, beautiful makeup — and doesn’t seem to care when you clumsily fuck up lipstick or poke your eye with a mascara wand. you know she brings it so you actually do your occupational therapy exercises, but she also brings you changes of comfortable clothes and washes your hair gently every few days. she lies back in bed with you, long limbed and beautiful, and watches matches when you don’t feel too sad. 

a few days after your eighth surgery, your last, according to your neurosurgeon, you wear a giant back brace over your beatrice xin jersey, your favorite player to watch, and your physical therapy team gets you strapped into this harness that connects to the ceiling so you can try to walk on the treadmill and for sure won’t fall. it kind of feels like you’re doing a stunt or something, and chanel stands there and indulges you with a smile while you make all of your best ‘strapped into a harness’ jokes.

and then — you do walk. it’s slow going, the treadmill barely moving, and your legs feel sluggish and so weak and almost not like your own. it’s been two months since you took a step and it feels like a fucking miracle. chanel wipes a tear or two from her own eyes, even though you can only walk for five minutes and are sweating kind of profusely — it’s a fucking miracle, and she understands it too. 

/

‘what are you frowning at?’

she rolls her eyes and pockets her phone, easily pedaling with insane resistance on the peleton next to you while you struggle to get your legs to listen to your brain and pedal at all. ‘idiot bros on twitter. “trans women don’t belong in women’s sports” and all that bullshit.’

you stop trying to pedal because you’re already entirely unsuccessful today and now you’re not able to focus at all. ‘fuck them.’

she grins. ‘yeah.’

‘i’ll beat them up, just you watch.’

it makes her laugh, and you think she knows you really would physically get into a fight — on or off the field — if anyone ever said anything to her. 

‘plus, i can take you 1v1.’

‘in your dreams, silva.’

‘i’m going to, again. don’t even think i won’t.’

chanel pats your hand; you feel it all. ‘i’ve always known you could do it. i’ve never thought you wouldn’t, ava.’

you duck your head, unused to genuine praise after all this time stuck in the same boring, discouraging, painful rooms at the spine center, even though all of your doctors and nurses and therapists had been nice.

‘but,’ she says, ‘first you gotta pedal on this bike.’

‘it’s hard,’ you whine.

‘you’re just distracted.’

you look at the game you’d turned on, beatrice xin currently with two goals and two assists, and sigh. ‘i’m horny.’

it gets the biggest, best laugh out of chanel, and you feel a little something like pride bloom in your chest: you love making people you care about laugh. 

‘fine, fine,’ you grumble. you look down at your feet, your quads and calves so small and pale compared to six months ago; you try to breathe through the immediate fear and the tiny bit of shame that pops up. but you focus, feel your feet firmly on the pedals, think about how you know how to ride a bike; you know how to stand up straight and put on pants and kick a ball. the back brace you have on feels tight, feels restricting — but you focus on activating your quads, then your hamstrings, and you eventually get the pedals to move.

‘hell yeah,’ chanel says.

‘if you try to give me a high five right now i think i’ll get all scrambled if i try to move my hand.’

she laughs, reaches over and pats the top of your head instead. 

/

‘ava silva,’ chanel says, and you grin; you can’t help it. she holds her phone at a, thankfully, flattering angle as you walk along the beach — slowly, but steady: you trust you won’t fall, that you’re strong enough and getting stronger. ‘what does freedom feel like?’

chanel has like… three million followers, and she loves social media, something that your old club has always been thrilled about. they hadn’t renewed your contract, but you’d understood; they’re still paying for all of your medical care, so you don’t really feel upset, just a sense of loss you’re not quite ready to name. but chanel loves you, and she’s so, so happy for you — even if you never play again, you’re walking and even starting to run now; you’re in pain but it’s manageable. it’s okay.

‘it feels —‘ euphoric; devastating — ‘like a miracle.’

/

you flop down on chanel’s neatly made and extravagent bed; you’ve been staying in her guest room — which she had turned into her closet, so it’s still kind of packed with all of her beautiful clothes, although there is a very expensive bed for you — and training until, hopefully, you can get signed somewhere. she doesn’t even look up from her ipad when you sigh. ‘hello, ava.’

‘i have a favor to ask that i actually think you’ll be interested in.’

she pauses whatever she’s doing, then looks up. ‘i’m listening.’

‘well! okay, so. as you know, i’ve basically only worn hospital gowns and sweats for the last year and a half, and before that, i was, like, a child.’

chanel perks up, and you can practically see the wheels in her head turning already.

‘and now, wherever i get signed, you know, people are gonna care, and want interviews and all this stuff. so, in small part, i want to feel good about how i look for this next chapter of football.’

‘i love it,’ she says. ‘and what’s the large part?’

you flop back again, just for the dramatics. ‘i am… so horny. like, you don’t even understand.’

she laughs. ‘JC is nice though, right?’

‘yeah,’ you say, because he is. ‘but, like, girls.’

she pauses for a second, a happy smile on her face. ‘so, you want to look… more… bisexual?’

‘i mean, i do already? because i am? right?’

‘well, of course, ava.’ it’s gentle and reassuring but still a little amused.

‘but — yeah. like, i want to pick stuff i love, my clothes and my hair and whatever, gain back control, blah blah, everything my therapist is always going on about.’

‘your therapist is great, you love her.’

‘sure.’ she is; you do. ‘so anyway, i just — i guess i just want to feel like myself.’

‘now that,’ chanel says, ‘is a favor i love.’

/

‘you’re sure?’

‘it doesn’t matter if i’m sure,’ chanel says, sitting in the hairdresser’s chair next to yours. you have the salon to yourselves; she’d booked you a private appointment with her hairstylist immediately.

you turn to said stylist, dimitri, with their chic and very neat fade. ‘are you sure?’

‘like chanel said,’ they say. ‘it only matters what you want. we don’t have to do anything big.’

you look in the mirror; you hadn’t had the real opportunity to get a haircut in a long time, being in the hospital and rehab and then spending as much time as you could training after that. you haven’t, really, taken the time to deeply care for yourself, something your therapist has been bothering you about. you want, so badly, to live as big as you can. as much as you can. 

‘well, i’m sure, as long as you think it’ll, like, be good for my face shape or whatever.’

chanel and dimitri share a quick glance and then chanel rolls her eyes. ‘ava, you have to know that you’re beautiful, right?’

you pause for what you feel is an appropriate amount of time. ‘yes.’

‘but since you asked,’ dimitri says, ‘i do think this will be great for your face shape.’

‘alright,’ you say, feeling suddenly very excited and a little buoyed. ‘let’s fucking do it, then.’

chanel cheers and dimitri grins; they wash your hair gently, and you feel a little panicked until chanel starts talking about the threesome she had a few nights ago, which is delightful and grounding enough you stay, fairly easily, in the present of this beautiful, outrageously expensive salon, the control you get to have. not that you’re thrilled about your therapist being completely 100% correct, but… she was right. 

dimitri dries your hair and then combs it out patiently, divides it and then clips up the top part. ‘ready?’

‘definitely.’

chanel grins and it’s easy, so much easier than you knew it would be, to sit and watch yourself become. you’re filled with a sense of joy, this tiny seed that grows as dimitri cuts your hair to your chin precisely, and asks you about your plans for the day, and food you love, and chanel talks about her latest modeling contract — in addition to football, which amazes you in a way that makes you feel proud in the very center of your chest, this incredible person who showed up and helped take care of you. you feel your shoulders relax; you feel your feet firmly in the new sneakers converse had sent you, comfortable and cool; you even take time to feel your butt in the chair with the knowledge that you don’t need to do any pressure reliefs or weight shifts because, when dimitri is done, you’ll be able to stand up and walk and dance and run and even play football. and even if — even if — one day, you couldn’t, you have your friends and your teammates and your life.

‘you look hot, ava,’ chanel says, very genuinely, after dimitri finishes with a leave in, then shows you how to dry your hair and recommends a light oil. 

‘go ahead,’ they say, ‘run your hands through it, all that jazz.’

to touch; to feel. you think you might cry, all of a sudden, with your soft hair that you picked, that you wanted, and chanel takes in your wobbling bottom lip and then tuts and pulls you toward her. because of your height difference, your face is basically smooshed into her chest and, even though you do cry, you laugh too, wet and messy and alive.

‘this probably my favorite place in the world,’ you say.

chanel shoves you playfully and you grin up at her. 

‘thank you.’

she waves you off, as she always does when she’s a little overwhelmed too. ‘don’t thank me yet. now we have to go shopping.’

/

it’s not as bad as you’d feared; despite the fact that chanel only wears the most elegant designer clothes — her closet is full of gucci and bottega and, of course, chanel, and a whole shelf of louboutins — but she also loves you and knows you, deeply, and so when her driver pulls up to a row of a few very cool-looking thrift stores, you have to hug her again. she gives you helpful feedback on pieces and outfits and you feel, quite genuinely, happier than maybe you ever have. you buy crop tops and high waisted, loose jeans and a few sweaters you love; some silly earrings and a necklace and a cap that chanel laughs at, but fondly enough you know it works. you find a men’s button up with a bunch of flames on it and she rolls her eyes but you put it on anyway, knot it at your waist so it feels just above your shorts.

‘do i look bi?’

‘you look a little bit crazy, but i definitely wouldn’t think you’re straight.’

you’re practically shaking with excitement: ‘it’s… flaming. i’m flaming! get it!’

chanel groans. ‘ava,’ she says, but wraps an arm around your shoulders and throws it on the growing pile anyway.

/

you feel happier than maybe you ever have until the next morning, when you come back from a silly game of football on the beach with her and JC and a few of your other friends, your hair spilling out of the tiny bun you’d managed to get it into, which had made you laugh, and sit down to have some burrata — another one of your favorites that chanel indulges in getting for you from time to time, even did while you were in the hospital and she had to put it on little crackers and feed it to you herself — and then accept a call from your agent. you step inside to take it, close the door softly. 

after it’s done, you yank the door open this time, burst onto the patio. all of your nerves are alive; in your shorts, your legs look strong again, tan and muscular and capable.

‘good news?’

you’re almost too excited to explain that you’re getting signed by your favorite club, $6 million for the year, with, if all goes well, an option to extend your contract another season after. a bonus: they just hired dr. jillian salvius, one of the best sports specialists in the world. all of your care will be, of course, included.

chanel starts to cry, which makes you start to cry, and she hugs you to her tightly. 

‘i am so happy for you,’ she says. ‘and i’m really gonna miss you.’

‘i’m gonna miss you too,’ you tell her. 

she backs up and puts her hands on your shoulders, a smile sneaking up her face. ‘you know, i happen to remember your favorite player in the whole entire world playing at a certain club.’

you hadn’t really thought past football and then six million dollars, but — ‘fuck.’

chanel laughs, face beautiful and delicate and rich in the sun. ‘i can’t wait to show her pictures of you in her jersey.’

‘oh god, are there any on my instagram? i have to go check.’

she just keeps laughing, and it’s all brimming, so wonderful, right at your fingertips.

/

you sign a few days later, your hands steady.

/

‘well,’ chanel asks, lounging back in bed on zoom, ‘how was day one?’

‘oh my god.’ your hair is still wet from the shower you took at the training grounds; you had raced back to your new apartment to make sure you were on time for your call. ‘i got there early, to play a little bit, get the nerves out, you know. and guess who was there and wanted to play 1v1?’

she grins. ‘no fucking way.’

‘i got schooled, obviously,’ you say, think of the way beatrice xin had moved with the ball, how surely she went into tackles, how precise she was. ‘i did score twice, though, and nutmegged her once. greatest football moment of my life, i’m pretty sure.’

‘what’s she like?’

you think chanel is probably humoring you, but you don’t care. ‘beatrice is… beautiful.’ it’s really the only word you have: her neat bun that stayed in place perfectly other than a few errant strands by the end of the session today; her clipped, lovely accent; the way her calves had looked while she was sprinting; the delicate lines of her face; her freckles and her eyes; how she had been serious and professional but kind; her strong back, muscles rippling under her skin in a way that made you shiver, in the locker room when she had untucked her quarterzip and pulled it over her head; how she seemed lonely, despite it all. ‘she’s really beautiful.’

/

it’s a while later when the sheer mortification dawns on you, but then beatrice, in her weird, hot, hilarious way, seems to dissipate the extreme embarrassment you’re going to be faced with by being embarrassing first.

‘hello, chanel.’ she reaches out her hand very seriously, in her favorite linen jumpsuit and a very expensive pair of off-white dunks and black, cat eye sunglasses that are honestly cooler than you expected, in front of her favorite nice brunch place. chanel shoots you a glance and then shakes bea’s hand firmly while you both try not to laugh. 

‘hey, it’s great to meet you.’

‘you, as well,’ bea says. ‘i — before we sit, i just wanted to extend my admiration, for the work you have done both on and off the field for trans equity in our sport.’

it’s so serious, and so genuine, chanel seems a little disarmed and a little affected. ‘thank you.’

bea nods once, seriously. ‘and, maybe more importantly, even, my deep gratitude, for caring for ava. she’s spoken so highly of you, and it means — i love her,’ bea decides on, after a pause. ‘i’m glad, immeasurably so, that she has people who love her too.’

chanel suspiciously sniffles. ‘can i give you a hug? is that weird?’

bea smiles, a real smile, your favorite, and opens her arms. you resist the urge, passionately, to make a joke about how the two hottest (sorry, lilith) women you know together is really gonna do it for you during your alone time later, which is honestly a fucking feat.

‘well,’ chanel says, ‘i made a presentation of every embarrassing thing ava has done that you should know about.’

‘oh no.’

bea loops her arm with chanel when she gallantly offers, and bea says, ‘oh yes.’ you trail behind them, feeling short and small and bursting with happiness. chanel orders basically the entire menu for you to try and she and bea laugh at your expense when chanel opens her phone and does, indeed, have an entire canva presentation of you being embarrassing, but you don’t really mind at all. the sun warms your shoulders and you drink champagne that costs way too much money, the bubbles bright on your tongue. chanel laughs and bea puts her hand on your thigh, just like that: you feel it all.

[formulapookie]

Bezzetti in secrecy because Bez is hurting and in my head, Cele is coming to wipe (or kiss?) his tears away without anybody allowed to witness 😭❤️‍🩹

11/8 kiss in secrecy/on a falling tear

It's overwhelming. The pain, the voices, the constant reminder in the back of his head.

That he's not enough, has never been enough and will never be enough. Not for Vale, not for the Academy, not for MotoGP, not for anyone.

He just feels so bad, he isn't bringing home any kind of result, his teammate is doing better than him in every race, every other Ducati rider outperforming him, he's fighting to GET in the points while the others battle for podiums and wins.

When he's deep down in his mind like that no one is allowd near him, not even in his room. No one except for him.

Cele is an exception, has always been one. They had bonded early on, both still kids, the younger looking at him like an example, and that's why he felt so fucking awful. He was being shit while Cele looked up at him. Was he disappointed too? Was he going to leave him? Break up with him and take with him the last crumbs of security he still had?

There's a knock at the door. one-one-three-one. Their code.

Bez gets up to open the door, quietly making his way back to the bed, hearing the mechanics wander around the garage chatting about the race, about his DNF.

"Is everything good Marco? The collarbone is ok? The wrists? You hit your back pretty harshly are you hurting? Do I get you painkillers?"

Cele is quick to go seat beside him, taking his hands into his own, stroking the back of one of Bez's with his thumb.

"Why do you keep coming here? I am always doing badly, I'm battling with Yamaha for fuck's sake, I am not worth my seat here, you should have it. Why do you keep up with me? I just keep on disappointing Vale, I keep on disappointing you"

Cele would like to smack some sense into Bez, beautiful amazing Bez he fell in love with as a kid, Bez who helped him when he fell on track and stained all his gear with mud, Bez who was his first drunken kiss at a party, Bez he saw going with anyone but him, Bez he lookes up at like a hero.

He hates when Bez acts like this, he hates it, Bez is good, he's a winner fucking hell, he's just going through a rough path right now, why is he so hard on himself?

"I'm not letting you get eaten alive by your thoughts Marco, you know it, I'm here to help you, I just want you to know you're not weak or unworthy just because you're going through this dark moment"

A tear slowly makes his way to Bez's cheek.

Cele doesn't think, he just acts, and away from everyone else to see, the strong armour Bez puts on to seem unbothered crumbles when he kisses the falling tear, the salty taste unpleasant in the boy's mouth.

"I'm not leaving you. I am never going to be disappointed by you, and neither is Vale. I will kiss every single one of your tears away if it'll help you understand this. I know it hurts, but you can't let it get to you, you must fight it, and if you feel like you can't fight it on your own I'm here"

The secrecy of the motorhome makes Bez relax, his head going to rest on Cele's shoulder, another tear making its way across his cheek

"ah ha, no tears, you are worth way more than what you think" another kiss, this time a bit above Marco's cupid bow, where the tear had stopped.

Cele kisses away three more tears, until Bez eventually falls asleep, his head stil on his shoulder.

He looks perfect like this, a little angel, away from the hawk eyes of the press, away from the comments mechanics made, away from the world, just Cele's to see.

"I love you" the younger whispers before eventually falling asleep next to Bez he moved to stay in a more comfortable position on his bed.

"I love you too" Bez thinks, incapable of bringing himself to open his eyes, another tear falling from his eye in the hope Cele will kiss it away again.

bezzetti angst? YES

Send me a Ship name and a Number and I'll write a kiss

[downbad4kevin]

Secret

Warning: smut if your under age dni

there isn’t enough justice for my boy Kevin so I had to come thru 🫶 sorry If it’s not that good it was hella rushed so am sorry if there is any spelling mistakes.

From the start you knew what you were getting yourself into. Every time you went to go see your older brother Diego play or practice Kevin would always wink or give you that stupid smirk of course behind Diego’s back. From the start Diego told you his teammates were off limit’s especially Kevin since he knew he flirted with every girl he see and he was a “player”. But god was it hard to resist him. Kevin knew Diego would kill him if he was messing around with his sister but he didn’t care there was something about you that he couldn’t resist ever since he laid eyes on you.

And it had been almost year since then and you guys were officially together but told no one since you were still scared to tell Diego. But little did you know that wouldn’t last long. You were at Kevin’s house he didn’t have a game today so you had him all to yourself. You both decided on a movie night but you had different intentions… And Kevin was starting to catch on the whole time you guys were making the snacks you were super touchy but the final straw for Kevin it when you were mixing the cookie dough and wanted to add more chocolate and chocolate was in front of him and instead of asking Kevin to hand it to you stood in front of him and made sure while you did it your ass rubbed his crotch. He immediately pinned your hands to the counter “I have had enough mi amor you want to play games let’s play” Kevin said in a deep voice. He immediately pulled down your pants and underwear then did the same to himself. Without warning he slammed right into you “Fuck Kevin!” You gasped.

He continued to thrust into deeper and deeper “Shit mi amor your taking me so good” Kevin said. He pulled your hair back and said “Come on Chula I wanna here you scream my name”. It took you a couple to seconds to pull your together but you said “Shittt only you can make me feel this good” something about that sentence drove him over the edge he stared to thrust even faster and some how even deeper. You couldn’t help but chant is name over and over again. And finally you both reached your high and he pulled out. But that was just round one. He flipped you back over and slammed into thrusting a little slower but deep. While he did he was rubbing your clit with him thumb. The pleasure was to much it wasn’t long before you came “Hang on a little longer am almost there” he said in a desperate voice still thrusting into you. The over stimulation was unreal after a few more thrusts he came inside of you. Once you reached the floor you almost fell because your legs felt jelly. You grabbed onto Kevin for dear life he could help but laugh “What happened Chula was it to much for you?” He said teasing “Cállate” you said give him the death stare “Sorry Chula I had to” He said while kissing you he took to his room and you both took of the remainder of your clothing knocked out. It was early in the morning and you woke up to your brother in the door way giving Kevin the death stare. One thing Kevin forgot to mention was Diego was supposed to drop some gear in the morning… “Any last words Alvarez?” Diego said with most cold voice “I regret nothing” Kevin said smiling even though he knew he was about to get ass beat.

[thotsforvillainrights]

congrats on the pregnancy!!! 🥳💕 any ideas for baby names yet?

also, if your title is right and requests are open, could i request some protective redestro headcanons or a scenario/imagine? like his s/o or a teammate/other family member gets hurt during a mass fight or threatened by another group? (bonus if he gets all monstrous)

thats the good shit i cant stop thinking about 😩

(Thank you! Unfortunately 10 million names for a girl and about 5 for a boy. Luckily my husband has stepped in with his list so we can do a formal comparison eventually!)

(And thank you for the Des content request since he's been on my mind heavy lately!)

~A Different Person~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

"A different person" is the right way to describe the situation at hand. The man standing in front of you was not the man you thought he was...

It probably started about a month ago when you overheard his conversation on the phone with a rising rival group trying to usurp the Liberation army and bring a bad name to Destro's legacy. Of course you weren't worried about it. The stronghold of the MLA could withstand any little group. Trumpet's magnificent hold on the people of Deika, Chitose's bold ability to clear the path in front of her, Geten's sheer determination and will power, Skeptic's advanced technology and his calculated use of meta ability...no one would could come close to shaking them up. So you shrugged and went about your day as though nothing was wrong. However, as the days went on, you grew more and more concerned with the air around you. It always felt as through you were being followed and this time not by Skeptic's usual surveillance. No, there was something more sinister at play.

After weeks of feeling odd, the day you finally went to announce your concerns was the exact day this rival group decided to strike. While Everyone was else was busy making quick work of the members around them, you were unfortunately on your own. Although it only lasted long enough for you to get a small gash on your arm, it was still the most uncomfortable 5 minutes of your life. The minute the other group attacked, Rikiya had set out to find you on his own. Much to the other's dismay of him leaving Detnerat himself, he ventured out and didn't take long to find you.

Oh but we he found you and saw that gash, it was probably the first time you'd ever seen this man angry in all of the time you've spent together. Even more so, this was the first time you'd seen his meta ability in action and also the first time you'd seen blood on his hands as well. And it was that very same blood stained hand that lowered itself in front of you. You hesitate for a moment before stepping onto the palm and grabbing hold of his thumb. You didn't let go of the large appendage until he made it back to Detnerat. He carefully lowered his hand and waited for you step off before shrinking back down to size. It seemed impossible to make eye contact with you in the moment. It truly shocked him when you pulled him into a tight hug before uttering a shaky 'What the fuck?'

Out came a long winded explanation and solid apologies strung out for nearly 20 minutes it would feel like. "I hid myself from you because I'm well aware a meta ability like this isn't exactly the most desirable in a partner." You sighed and shook your head. "So you mean to tell me that you spent all this time hiding yourself from me because you were scared of running me away?" He stares flatly before raising his hand up and showing it to you you again. "Is this not something that terrifies you?" He asks, gesturing at the blood covered palm. "This meta ability has killed..."

"And it's that same meta ability that has protected me today and who knows how many other times without me even knowing! It's not like I'll cower away from you now, silly. I've fallen in too deep at this point and besides." You smile and close the space between you two as you pull him into another hug. "It's no more scarier than Tomoyasu's puppet ability. Scared the crap out of me 2 weeks ago when he turned one of the filing cabinets without me knowing." Rikiya chuckled lightly and reciprocated the hug. "Let's get you to a hospital. I'm absolutely unhappy with the size of that gash right now." His voice muffled in your hair. You laugh quietly.

"Can you turn really huge again? I kind of like riding in your hand. It's like a carnival without ticket costs."

"Hmmm, perhaps another time. Hopefully for now..." He pauses and lifts you into his arms. "maybe this will suffice?"

You smile and nod.

[myfellowmelo]

Brother’s Best Friend

Context: Your brother’s best friend happens to be the popular basketball player, Lamelo Ball. And no matter how much you say you don’t feel anything for the boy, your body says otherwise after every encounter/game.

Includes: Smut, Oral sex, masturbation, teasing, swear words, hint of degrading.

Word count: 4040?

My POV.

“We can’t keep doing this Melo.” I whimper as his cock starts plunging deep inside me. Stuck in the locker rooms where he dragged me in there. His celebration for winning the game started early.

“You say that a lot for someone who’s obsessed with my dick.” He tells me. Before I answer him, he picks me and slams me onto his locker. Arms wrapped around his neck as he picks up the pace. “Melo! Oh god!” Gripping his hair as he relentlessly pounds my g-spot. Making it his absolute goal to have me cumming all over his cock. He needs to have me walk out the Spectrum Center with your hole stuffed with his liquids. “Take it baby. Fucking take it!” He groans. Sucking on my neck as he desperately tries to leave me as many marks as he wants. He loves how well I tighten around him. I love how no matter how hard I try not to fall, I still end up in his arms. Begging him to fuck me senselessly over and over again. Rolling his eyes back as I grip his hair yet again. Usually he would say some stupid sarcastic comment about leaving him bald like his head, but my pussy felt so good he couldn’t even muster up the words to say anything.

Omniscient.

Your moans were absolutely beautiful. Something he needs to hear on a regular basis just to even function. Having you fucked out until you could barely stand is what he was striving for. But it was all cut off short when he heard the locker room door open. Pulling out of you, you two quickly dress up.

“Melo ? Are you there?” Your brother Miles calls out.

“Hide!” He tells you. Signaling the shower room, you run inside quickly.

“Yeah I’m here!” Melo stated composing his breath.

Walking from around the lockers, Miles’ eyes brighten up, “Oh there you are! I was wondering when you were planning to get out of the locker room. Hey, have you seen y/n by any chance?”

Melo scoffs, “Do you see her around here?” A nervous chuckle leaves him but covers it up by a huff.

“Asshole. I was just asking.” Miles says as he rolled his eyes. Miles grumbled  “I can’t reach her-“

“Well she must’ve been tired. Probably went home.” Melo interjected him mid way.

“Yeah you’re right. Oh I know!” Miles claps his hands that startles Melo.

“What?” He furrows his brow.

“She’s hooking up.” Miles says with stars forming around his eyes.

“What?!” Melo says, taken aback. How did he know? And just when Melo said that, you too did as well in the shower room. Heart racing as you waited for yours and his name to fall out of your brother's mouth.

“Yeah, she once mentioned about this crush she has on Nate” Miles says looking back at his memories.

“Nate? My friend Nate?” Melo says surprised

“Yeah-“

“Nate, my teammate? Number 30 Nate?” Melo says again trying to confirm if what he heard was real.

“Yes! Nate Darling. She’s had a crush on him since I came here. Well I don’t know if she still likes him but she has been running off lately so I won’t be surprised if she comes out of a room with a large hickey on her chest. He’s very goofy.” Miles states while searching around the locker room.

“Yeah well I’m goofy too.” Melo mumbles. Shoving his stuff in his bag.

“What was that?” Miles asks him.

“Nothing! Now shall we get going?” Melo says as he gathered the remaining items and stuffed it in his duffel bag.

“Oh yeah, let’s go, You hungry?” Miles said as he gave up and went to the door with his stuff on hand.

Making his way out, you peek your head. Looking at Melo who merely glanced at you and walked out after your brother.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath.

—————

“Melo, please call me back.” You say to the voicemail. It’s been three days and ever since he found out about your old crush on his friend he can’t even talk to you. Not even look at you for that matter.

You didn’t understand. You two weren’t anything. You guys weren’t dating and on the occasion he’s made it very clear that you two are nothing more but fuck buddies.

“Hey you okay?” Your friend asks you. Taking a seat next to you after grabbing her lunch.

“Oh yeah I’m, I’m okay,” trying to mask your emotions.

“You sure? You know I’m good at telling when one is lying.” She says giving you the look that was so tempting to have you spill out all of your thoughts.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I stated while I tried to divert my gaze to the floor.

“Okay but you know I’m here when you’re ready yeah?” Nodding, she smiles and hands you her green apple. The only kind of apple you like. Appreciating it, you take it and take a bite out of it. As she told a story about something, you couldn’t focus on anything but his table. He wasn’t there, but everyone else was. Including Nate.

“Oh my god.” Your best friend gasps.

Averting your eyes from the table you look over at her. “What?”

“Can’t believe it.” She said with her mouth hanging open.

“What? What’s going on?” You said as you look around.

“He said he was done hooking up. I swear if he brings another girl home I’m going to lose it.” She said, glaring her eyes. You see, she is Gelo’s girlfriend and they are both staying over for the week before going back to Cali.

Turning around to meet her gaze, your eyes widen when you see Melo enter the cafeteria with a girl around his arm. No no not just any girl. The captain of the Hornets cheerleading team. You couldn’t tell what shocked you more, that Melo already replaced you with some girl days after he continuously dodged you, your texts, and your calls. Or the fact that he was able to pull the head leader of the cheerleading team. The CHEERLEADING TEAM. You expected one of the nurses which could’ve made more sense. Usually everyone in the cheerleading team tends to take their work very seriously and never have time to not even hook up. Now this, this was truly a shocker.

Walking past you. He ignores you yet again and plants a kiss on her temple. Arm around her as she giggles and holds his hand. What a brat. Following their movements until they reached their table, where the boys greeted him. Cheers burst when he introduces them to her. Who looks to be his new girlfriend.

“Shocking right? Psh wrong.” Your best friend scoffs.

“Yeah. Sorry you have to deal with that,” you say genuinely.

“Yeah I feel sorry too but boys will be boys that’s just the sad truth.” She shakes her head and continues on eating her lunch.

“Yeah…” you mutter watching as he converses with his friends. His arm is still around her neck. “You’re right.” You finish off, looking down to the barely eaten apple.

For the next few days you ignored Melo completely. You didn’t know whether you should confront him or not. I mean it is his loss if he wants to push you away. But also another part of you wanted an explanation and maybe to seek salvation of the last bit of what you two have. If you guys even had anything in the first place. But Melo seemed serious. He had her with him at all times. And any time he saw you, he would get all cuddly and affectionate with her and it would get too repulsive to even stand being in the same area as him. What sucked is that both him and his little girlfriend shared the same afternoon as you. Workouts. The two of them sit in front of you which is worse because he’s constantly baby talking to her. Asking her if she needs any help and never lets her lift heavy weight. What an ass kisser really.

And you couldn’t really understand why you were so bothered by it. You never saw Melo anything other than a fuck buddy. There were times where you would ask yourself if you could see yourself dating him and it always ended with you gagging and having to eat a snack to clear your head. Yet here you are, wishing that this girl would walk off the face of the earth. While you were too busy sulking, you didn’t notice someone taking a seat next to you to use the weights.

“Hi y/n!” Nate says cheerfully. His boxy smile facing you as he set his stuff onto the table.

“Hey Nate-“ and then it hit you. Oh why did you not think about this sooner? Think y/n, think! Turning your head to face the bubbly boy, you tilt your head and smile at him. “Heyyy Yangyang,” you said again trying to be flirtatious.

Furrowing his brow, he looks at you oddly. “You okay?…”

“Totally!” You say nervous laughing it off.

Melo before you who was once cuddly to his new girlfriend was now tense. “Say Nate, how come we don’t hang out as much?” You ask him.

“Oh well I’d like you to hang out but you don’t like getting body slammed onto the court huh?” He said elbowing you.

Giggling, you shake your head. “We should hang out someday.”

Melo scoffs as he rolls his eyes. His girlfriend giving him a confused look.

He sends her a fake smile and signals to the coach who has now entered the training facility. As if his reason for scoffing was the coach entering. Picking up his large water bottle, he spins the cap off and goes to take a sip.

“So like a date?” Nate asks you genuinely.

“You want it to be a date?” With this, the boy in front of you who was once taking a sip from his water bottle, is now choking on it. The training facility silences as they stare at him curiously.

“You okay Ball?” The coach asks him. Not answering with words but rather with a thumbs up, he nods and proceeds to start the lecture.

“A date is then babe.” Nate says, using his index finger to bump your chin lightly.

—————

“I knew it! It was about time you two finally got together.” Your best friend claps her hands.

“We’re not getting together. It's simply a date, nothing else.” I say to remind her.

“Please you two will be dating in no time. Now let’s see what we can have you get dressed in.” While she went through the pile of clothes I brought for her to piece together an outfit. The front door opened and slammed close.

“Geez I bet it’s Melo, another sucky practice.” She shakes her head.

Chuckling, I nod along. “Right. Hey can I go grab a bottle of water real quick?”

“Yeah go ahead, it’s gonna take me a while to make an outfit with these clothes. Your wardrobe isn’t the most stylish no offense.” She said while still looking at the clothes.

“None taken” you shake your shoulders. Leaving her room, you go down the stairs and into the kitchen. In there was the boy you wanted to see. Ignoring him, you walk past him who was seated on the stool chair.

His eyes following you as you opened the fridge and pulled out a water bottle. Jumping back when he was standing right next to you once the door was closed. “My goodness Melo what the hell?-”

“Why didn’t you tell me about Nate?” He said while his breath fanned against your neck:

“What about him? It’s none of your concern-” You turn around looking up to face him.

“It is!” He says, flying his arms around in frustration.

“Shhh keep it down Melo!” You said as you patted his upper stomach because that’s all you could reach.

“Or what? Afraid your brother will find out huh?” He says while he took a step forward, you took one back. Doing so until you were up against the counter. “Afraid your brother will find out how desperate you are for me. How I’m I able to get you begging for my cock over and over again mm?” He tells me slowly. His head lowering closer and closer to my lips. Pulling his head and smashing my lips onto his. He immediately responds, pulling me closer to him. Picking me up and resting me on top of the counter. A nice grip on his hair as I kiss his lips until I am sure they’ll be swollen. His hands roamed up my shirt. Already missing my soft skin against his hands. Leaning in more and more, wanting - no needing more of me. It’s been almost two weeks and he really missed me. Yet he would never admit to it. His growing erection began to tighten his shorts. And I knew this.

He groans and curses when I lay a hand on his crotch. “Missed me that much?” I ask him tauntingly. Chest heaving as he looks down at my hand softly stroking the outline of his dick. Softly thrusting forward, needing more of my touches. But he was surely mistaken if he thought I would give in easily. Pushing him back, I get off the counter. Shock written all over him. “Don’t think I forgot the shit you pulled on me. I was over Nate a long time ago. It was barely even a damn crush. But because of your stupid stubbornness, you no longer have a shot at having me anymore Melo. Enjoy your time with your precious girlfriend.” Taking a step forward, on tippy toes, I got closer to his ear and whispered, “Bet she doesn’t make you cum like I do.” Biting my lip, I grab my water and walk away.

Watching as I walk away, he shuts his eyes close and shakes his head. “Fuck.”

————

“It was nice hanging out with you Nate. And sorry for any wrong intentions I might’ve given you in the training facility.” I said getting up after the date with Nate was over.

“Don’t sweat it. I’m not dumb I know that you and Melo have been having sex for a while now. Just didn’t know it was this serious.” Nate said following my lead.

“It isn’t serious.” I restated.

“Really?” He asks, raising a brow at me. His smoothie in hand as we walked around the downtown mall. “Doesn’t seem like it.” Nate sighed looking up at the sky.

“What do you mean?” I asked curiously

“Doesn’t take Einstein to know we have feelings for one another.” He said laughing seeing the dumbfounded expression on my face.

“Woah! Hold on, feelings?! Psh I don’t have feelings for him.”  I said defending my self.

Nate scoffs and shakes his head. “It’s so obvious.”

“It’s not-”

“It’s so!” He said again standing his ground.

“You have completely lost it, Nate Darling.” He laughs, taking a sip from his drink.

“Please, I knew something must’ve gone down. I had my guess when he started arriving at our training all gloomy and silent and not even having the same energy. But then when he brought Natalie to our table I knew something was definitely up. Then you ‘asked’ me out. You two aren’t doing this simply to get back at each other or get on one another’s nerves. You guys are doing this in hopes one of you two will snap out of it and confess!” Nate said spilling it all out.

I stayed silent. I mean he wasn’t necessarily wrong. I asked Nate out in front of Melo knowing he would be listening in hopes that he would talk to me. Confront me, tell me how stupid I am and that I am  his. I also wanted him back. Even if he wasn’t entirely mine to begin with. Now if I were to ask that very same question that had me gagging at the mere thought of it, it didn’t sound so bad of a question. Can I see yourself dating Melo?

______

Omniscient.

“I bet by the end of the date, it’s going to be official.” Your friend beams. For a good fifteen minutes now she hasn’t stopped talking about you and Nate getting together after so many years. It’s annoying the hell out of him. And what makes it worst is that Natalie is sitting next to him smiling at her squealing at your potential relationship with his teammate.

“You okay baby?” Natalie asks him. “Mhm? Oh, uh yeah I’m alright.” He fakes a tight smile and goes back to being on his phone. Looking at the date, he sees that he has yet another game tomorrow. A part of him was wishing you would come to his game. What was he thinking of course you will just not for him but rather for Nate. The mere thought of it already has him rolling his eyes.

“Someone doesn’t seem in a good mood.” Your best friends voice brings him back from his thoughts.

“Just tired it’s all. Gotta game tomorrow.” Melo said Turing off his phone.

“Oh yeah that’s right. Aw man I wish I could go but I have my thing going on with the modeling agency.” Your friend stated cleaning up the kitchen.

Natalie pouts. “It’s alright.”

“Well I guess I better start heading up to my room. Imma text y/n how her date went with her soon to be boyfriend.” She wiggles her brows.

Fighting the urge to scoff. “Yeah I should get going too.” She smiles at him and says her goodnights.

Natalie left a few minutes later, getting on her tippy toes, he got the sudden Deja vu from when you did that to him not long ago. Moving his face so that her lips connected with her cheeks. She waves him goodbye and leaves. Closing the door, he sighs and his head gets rushed with images of you. Very naughty things of you. Once again feeling that tightness in his shorts begin to grow.

“Fuck y/n!” He hissed. Fisting his cock as he teases his tip. Getting off to the thought of you sucking him off. Your pretty lips on his tip, those gorgeous eyes looking up at him as you try to pleasure him. Remembering how even when he’s finished cumming you still don’t pull away. Turning him more at how you have an oral fixation that you found out because of him. Biting his lip as he concentrates on jerking himself off. Memories on how overstimulated he once felt when you just couldn’t pull his dick out of your mouth. Whining when he tried pulling you off him. “God baby. You take my cock so well shit.” He mutters. Tilting his head back as he rubs himself faster. His hand jerking himself quicker as he felt the familiar need to release begin to bubble up.

Thinking about having you bounce on his cock as you beg him to continue fucking you until you’re sobbing. Telling you how much of a slut you are for his cock. Your hands gripping his hair as you suck hickies all over him. And just like that, his warm fluids were shooting all over his bed sheets. Catching his breath as he was consumed with the darkness of his room.

______

Omniscient.

It was the day of the game. People started filling up the bleachers but no matter how much people were entering through the metal doors you still haven’t shown up.

“Hey Nate, where’s y/n?” Melo asked curiously.

“How will I know?” Nate said with the ball in his hands getting ready to shoot.

“She’s practically your girlfriend, you should know by now if she’s planning on cheering for her boyfriend” Melo says. Tone harsh when saying boyfriend.

Nate stares at him and later laughs. “What?” Nate shakes him and pats his shoulder. “You’re funny dude.”

Walking away, with a puzzled look. He sighs and takes one last look at the bleachers. His eyes met yours. Trying to hold in his smile. But you caught it. After thinking back on what Nate said, he was right. You wanted his attention and if he wasn’t going to do something first, you would. Smiling softly at him as you give him two thumbs up. He chuckles and nods. Eyes looking down and freezes when he sees Natalie. He forgot the cheerleaders are taking a break for 2 weeks. Holding a poster with his jersey number in it. Looking away quickly, as he hurries back to the rest of his team.

By the end of the game, the crowd was loud and rowdy. Anxious as it was a tie once again. Melo , who was now with the ball, rushed until he got near the net and dunked the winning point. The crowd roared as they clapped and cheered for him and the team's victory. Standing as you cheered for him too. Going down the steps to congratulate him. Looking for #1. You smiled warmly at him as you walked up to him. Freezing when a familiar figure walks the aisle before you calls out for his name. Rushing down the steps and enveloped him in a tight hug. Smile dropping as his eyes never left yours. He was still with her, and a part of you felt stupid. Were you really going to confess? Especially since Natalie is such a sweet girl and really likes Melo. She couldn’t ruin that. Couldn’t ruin what they have. But maybe there’s hope. Maybe he doesn’t have the same feelings for her and has some for you.

“Surprise!” She tells him excitedly. But you were certain that wasn’t true when Natalie pulled Melo down for a kiss.

Scoffing, you felt stupid. Embarrassed really. Turning around, you make your way out of the Spectrum Center. Melo pulls away quickly, keeping Natalie at arms length. “Melo? Baby what’s wrong?” Natalie said, looking up at him with her arm around him.

“Natalie, I'm sorry. But I can’t do this, I know it’s sudden and you deserve an explanation but I can’t keep going on in a relationship I don’t want to be in. I’m really sorry but I have to go.” He said as he broke the contact, heading to the door.

“Melo? Wait- Melo!” But he was already out the doors. Rushing after you.

“Where are you?” He says under his breath in search of you. Looking through every hallway and room and still no sign of you. “Dammit y/n where are you?!” He slammed his hand on the door and went inside of the locker-room.

“I’m here.” You said silently.

Turning around, there you were before him.

Staying silent as you two suddenly didn’t know what to say anymore. After much contemplation on what he should say to you, he starts taking small steps towards you.

“It’s you. It’s always been you.” He tells you softly. Meeting him in the middle, you grab his face and pull him in. Gripping your waist as he kisses you desperately. The kiss was no longer the same old one that was filled with lust and need. It was now filled with passion, love and want. Pulling away, leaning your forehead on top of his.

“Can’t go another day without you.” He said underneath his breath.

“Then don’t. Don’t let me go.” You said, with tears threatening to fall.

“Never baby.” Melo said, looking down at you.

————

“You two were what?!”

Your brother exclaims in pure shock. Both you and Melo are standing before him, hand in hand. Standing behind you and he plants soft kisses on your temple. Rubbing your arm for comfort, comfort for the burst of your brother who is now finding out the truth of you two. But no matter the outcome, he was just glad he now has you. In his arms once again. Only this time, he’s got you locked in. And you aren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• I hope you liked my first imagines, I know there are some errors with the POV, but I’ll fix it later!

Thank you for reading 😊😊

[blueskrugs]

Jump Then Fall | Jack Hughes

I am eternally soft for this kid, okay. this is not the original birthweek fic I had planned for him, but it is a bonus Swift Fic because I couldn't help myself. enjoy while I work on getting my shit together for the summer!

tagging: @marcoscandellas @stlbluesbrat21 @dembenchboys @poltoncarayko @robthomissed @letmeplaytheblues @troubatrain @ayohockeycheck @blackwidowrising @aria253264 @antoineroussel @starswin @glassdanse @ch-ristiane @majdoline @nazdaddy @hockey-more-like

length: 2k words

High school relationships never worked out. That’s what they always told you, at least, when you and Jack were young and in love. And they were right, sort of. You’d broken up not long after you’d both graduated, with Jack off to be drafted and you off to college. Except you’d stayed close, texting and talking on the phone often once Jack had headed off to New Jersey. He was one of your best friends, and you were thankful he was still in your life, but you weren’t sure you’d ever stop loving him, not really.

I like the way you sound in the morning We're on the phone and without a warning I realize your laugh is the best sound I have ever heard

Saturday mornings always meant long phone calls with Jack. You’d both wake up early and make coffee before spending most of the morning on the phone, talking about everything and nothing. Sometimes you wished more than anything that you could see his face, but you weren’t sure what would come spilling out of your mouth when you saw him.

One cold morning in December, you were pretty sure Jack had still been asleep when you called. His voice was slow and rough when he spoke, but you could still hear the smile in his voice.

When you heard him yawn, big enough his jaw cracked, you laughed. “Am I keeping you awake?” you asked.

Jack rushed to answer, “No, never.”

“Jack,” you warned.

Jack laughed. “We got in late last night, I’m just a little tired, I’m fine,” he told you.

“I can let you go back to sleep,” you said.

You heard Jack sit up on the other end of the line. “No way, absolutely not,” he said.

“We’re not even talking about anything important.” You’d mostly been stressing about the end of the semester.

“So? I like talking to you,” Jack argued.

You sighed. “You’re an idiot,” but it came out more fond than annoyed.

Somehow, that phone call lasted almost two more hours. Later, you wouldn’t remember what dumb thing you’d quipped that had made Jack burst out laughing, but you’d always remember the sound of that laugh. You’d wished you’d been able to record it, to have it to listen to on rough days, on days you missed Jack a little extra.

I hear the words but all I can think is We should be together

Jack was telling some story about his teammates. You were only half-listening, paying more attention to his face as he talked. It was late, and Quinn and Jack were home for Christmas. You and the three Hughes boys had taken over the basement for the night. Quinn and Luke were sprawled out on the couch opposite you, and you were buried under several blankets with your feet in Jack’s lap. He was using one hand to help illustrate his story, but the other was resting on your ankle, warm despite the chill outside, his thumb absently rubbing against your bare skin.

Quinn threw a balled up napkin at you, jolting you back to reality. “What’re you thinking about over there?” he asked.

“What?” You threw the napkin back at Quinn.

Luke chimed in, “Yeah, Jack’s not that funny, there’s no way you’re smiling at him.”

“Hey!” Jack protested. You dug your heel into his thigh, and he turned to grin at you.

You hadn’t even realized you were smiling. You always seemed to be smiling when you were around Jack, you couldn’t help it.

“Just missed you guys,” you said, grinning back at Jack.

Jack squeezed your ankle and went back to telling his story. You still weren’t listening.

Well, I like the way your hair falls in your face You got the keys to me I love each freckle on your face, oh

When Jack first started growing his hair out, you hated it.

“No, why,” you said the first time you saw him that summer. Luke laughed from somewhere behind you.

Jack ran a hand through his hair and smirked at you. “What do you mean?” he asked. “You love my hair.”

You tilted your head, pretending to consider. “I’ve changed my mind,” you said.

Jack squawked, outraged and offended. He slung an arm around your shoulder and pulled you in close as you giggled and tried to get away. “You’ll pay for that,” he told you. You dug your elbow into his ribs until he let go of you.

Later that night found the two of you left alone near the bonfire as the sun went down.

“Hey,” Jack said. You locked your phone and tilted your head back to look up at him upside down. “Do you really not like the hair?” he asked.

You snorted. “Would you cut it if I said I didn’t?” Jack shrugged, not quite meeting your eyes. You sat up and twisted to look at Jack properly. “You wouldn’t, oh my God.” It was hard to tell, but he might’ve been blushing in the fading light,

“Just tell me the truth,” he said.

You looked at Jack, really looked at him. He was tan, a new burst of freckles dusted across his nose. He’d shoved a hat on since you’d first seen him earlier in the day, but you could still see how his hair was just beginning to curl at the ends past the nape of his neck. Jack stared back at you, blue eyes dark.

“I guess I could get used to it,” you said.

Honestly, you were so gone for him, you were pretty sure you’d end up still liking him no matter what he looked like.

When people say things that bring you to your knees I'll catch you

Sometimes you didn’t know how Jack put up with it all. From losing streaks to being called a draft bust to people questioning whether he was capable of being a leader, there wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t have to deal with some bullshit. You knew it wasn’t easy, but he rarely let it get to him. Rarely, but not never.

It didn’t surprise you when your phone rang after a rough game. You answered the FaceTime call without thinking about it, smiling softly when Jack’s face filled your screen. He looked tired, dark bags under his eyes and his hair hanging limply in his face.

“Hi, bud,” you said.

Jack closed his eyes and sighed, long and loud, scrubbing his free hand across his face. You’d been able to watch the game, had watched the blowout happen in real time, just another loss in this skid, in a season that had started out promising for once.

“I’m tired,” Jack whined.

“You look like shit,” you told him. Jack stuck his tongue out at you. “Do I need to get Ty to delete Twitter off your phone again?” you asked. Jack rolled his eyes, but you weren’t joking.

“No, I just-” Jack rubbed his eyes again. “Did you see what my plus-minus was tonight?”

It was your turn to roll your eyes. “Oh my God, no, we’re not doing this,” you said. Sometimes Jack wanted to forget everything about a shitty game, but other nights he got frustrated and wanted to pick apart every mistake he’d made on the ice. You dragged your laptop closer to you. “C’mon, open your Netflix, we’re watching a movie.”

There was some scuffling on the other end, with Jack accidentally pointing his phone at the ceiling. “Fine, but I get to pick,” he said.

You argued half-heartedly with him for a while, but he won in the end, and you settled on some movie you’d both seen a dozen times. It was quiet while you watched, a comfortable silence, heavy with familiarity.

“Hey,” Jack said lowly as the end credits rolled later. You’d been half-sure Jack had fallen asleep on you. “Thanks.”

You smiled tiredly at him. It was late, and dark in his room, and you could barely make out his blurry form on your phone. “Anytime, Jacky,” you said, but you meant, “I love you.”

You can jump then fall, jump then fall Jump then fall into me, into me, yeah

Your doorbell rang one morning in early May. When you pulled open the front door, there was Jack, hands shoved deep in his hoodie pocket, standing on your parent’s front porch.

“I thought you weren’t coming home for a few weeks still,” you said, leaning against the door frame. The Devils season was over, but Jack had told you he was planning on sticking around for a while or traveling some before coming home for the summer.

Jack took one of his hands out of his pocket and ran it nervously through his hair. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, instead of responding to your non-question.

You raised an eyebrow at him. You’d known Jack for years, and you could probably count on one hand the number of times you’d seen him be nervous. “Well, don’t hurt yourself with that, bud,” you told him.

He made a face at you, but it also got him to smile. “Will you just let me-” he started, but he didn’t finish his sentence.

“Hey, c’mon, let’s go inside,” you said, stepping back to let Jack follow you into the house.

In the living room, the TV show you had been watching was still paused, but you both ignored it. You sat back on the couch, but Jack stayed standing, awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“You’re freaking me out a little, Jacky,” you said.

Jack sighed and sat on the floor in front of you, leaning back on his hands with his legs stretched out in front of him. “I miss you,” he said.

“Jack, we talk every day,” you told him. “I’m right here,” you added softly.

Jack huffed and ran his hands through his hair again. He laid back for a moment, staring silently up at the ceiling fan as it slowly turned above you.

“Have you ever thought about getting back together?” he asked when he sat back up.

You thought about it a lot, actually, but you just said, “Yeah.”

“Do you think we could do it?” Jack asked next.

You hesitated on that one. You’d thought that, maybe, you could’ve made it back when you were in high school, but things were so different now. You’d listened to the opinions of others so much back then, had broken up in part because you thought that it was inevitable anyway. Could you make it through all that again? You still had a few years until you graduated, and New Jersey wasn’t exactly close.

Then again, you two were as close as ever. Jack had only missed a handful of your Saturday morning phone calls, and it was always just because of hockey. He was still sitting on the floor in front of you, looking nervous as he chewed on his bottom lip.

“I don’t know,” you said honestly.

Jack’s face fell a little. “Do you think we could try?”

“Yeah, I think so,” you said, just as honestly. You’d never been good at saying no to Jack, anyway.

Jack beamed, and you knew exactly why you still loved him after all this time. Jack leaned forward and tugged at your foot. “Hey, come down here,” he whined. “Wanna kiss you.”

“Or you could come up here?” Jack tugged harder. “Oh my God, you’re so fucking needy,” you laughed, but you slid off the couch and let Jack pull you into his lap.

His hands went to your waist, sliding under your T-shirt, and he smiled smugly up at you. “Hi.”

You pressed a kiss to his nose. “Hi,” you said back.

“Uh-uh, you can do better than that.” A kiss to his cheek. Jack rolled his eyes and put one of his hands on your cheek to drag you in for a real kiss. “That’s better,” he whispered, but you were already leaning in for another kiss.

[fruitcoops]

I absolutely love your fics!!! Thank you for sharing your talent with the world. If you're interested, do you think you could write a fic where Finn gets injured in a game against Tampa? O'Hara brothers ftw ♥️♥️♥️

Ohohohoho yes. It's 'missing your big brother so you write siblings' hours, and all of you are trapped in here with me. Combined with prompts for cubs hurt comfort/ poly love (@hi-im-phoenix) and distraction hurt/ comfort for AJ. Sorry about your manager <3 SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for bone inJuries

The crowd was roaring. Finn couldn’t catch his breath. His arm was on fire.

Something like a sob broke free in his chest, but he could do little more than hiccup in pain and fear from his place laying flat on his back atop the unforgiving ice. He couldn’t move his fingers. His elbow throbbed. Everything in between just hurt.

“—fuck is wrong with you?” an angry voice shouted, followed by a flash of blue and white shoving at the man whose late hit had left him suspended in shock. Finn didn’t know if it had been on purpose, but he didn’t really care anymore as a tear tracked down to his ear. He couldn’t pull his eyes away from the bright lights overhead.

A hand cradled one side of his jaw, warm and clammy on his cold skin. “Talk to me, mon amour, what’s wrong?”

“Lo,” he croaked, swallowing hard. “I’m okay. ‘m okay, promise. I’m okay.”

“Out of my way!” The blue and white blob pushed closer before kneeling next to him. A helmet hit the ice, followed by a glove; heavy hands settled on his shoulders, and the one on his face disappeared. “Finn? Finn, look at me.”

Finn’s chest hitched once, twice, hard. His head was pounding, and everything hurt. He may have been able to reassure Logan, but he had never been able to hide from his brother. “Alex.”

“Hey, buddy,” he soothed as Finn finally regained enough breath to gasp around his tears. “No, no, shhh. You’re gonna be just fine, yeah? Can you tell me what happened?”

“Hurts,” he choked out, squeezing his eyes shut. The pain had reached his shoulder and every movement was agony. “It hurts, it hurts—Alex, it hurts.”

“What hurts?”

He could hear people calling for medics. His friends, his family. But Alex stayed right there next to him, holding his good hand and brushing his tears away. “My arm,” Finn said, feeling as pathetic as he ever had. “Alex, it hurts so bad.”

“Can you wiggle your fingers for me?” Finn sobbed again as he shook his head and saw the encouraging smile slide of Alex’s face. “That’s alright, buddy, just take some deep breaths.”

“I don’t wanna be out,” Finn blubbered. “I gotta play.”

Alex gave his hand a light squeeze. “It’s not that bad, Fish. Deep breaths.”

He managed a handful—and admittedly felt a little better—but the alarms in his head were still blaring when Remus arrived with the medic, all but carrying him across the ice to get to Finn. He had a smudge of a bruise beneath his eye, but the worry creasing his brow overtook anything else. “I’m good, Loops,” Finn panted as the medic sat next to him. “Totally cool.”

“28, I’m going to need you to make some room,” the medic ordered. Fear spiked in Finn’s heart when he met Alex’s gaze, but he found only determination looking back.

“I’m not leaving,” Alex said simply.

The medic glanced down. “Can you stand?”

“I think so?” Finn said hesitantly, trying to get cool air back into his lungs. “It’s—I think I broke my arm. Everything else is okay.”

“What’s your pain level?”

“Eight. And a half,” he added. Alex frowned.

“Let’s get you off this ice, yeah?” The medic patted him gently on the shoulder. “O’Hara, can you get him up?”

“Keep that one close,” Alex murmured, sliding his arm under Finn’s shoulders. He clenched his teeth around a cry of pain as his bad arm was jostled, but Alex was strong and steady, and within a few seconds he was on his feet. “Easy does it, bud. I’ve got you.”

“Fucking shit,” Finn wheezed as he tried to close his hand. The fear and adrenaline had faded, but involuntary tears sprang to his eyes anyway. Alex held him upright without faltering despite his wobbly legs; they made it to the bench in a blur of movement that made Finn dizzy.

“We can take him from here,” the medic said to Alex.

“I’ll be fine,” Finn said, cutting him off just as he opened his mouth. “Go play. Your boys need you.”

Alex pressed his lips together in obvious frustration, but tapped their helmets together and skated back to his own bench. Finn let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes for a moment. “O’Hara?”

“I’m good,” he assured the medic.

“If you feel like you need to throw up, let me know.”

“No. No, I’m good. Just hurts.”

He caught a glimpse of the clock as they headed down the tunnel—ten minutes left in the period. Finn steeled himself for a long stretch of being alone in a medical room and tried to focus on something over than the unbearable heat and throbbing in his arm.

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

Leo traced the edge of the splint with a deep-set frown, but said nothing. His other thumb ran in gentle lines up and down Finn’s waist, kept there by Logan’s side pressing close. “You’re sure you’re alright?” Logan asked softly as he placed a kiss on the corner of Finn’s mouth.

“I promise.” They had barely traded ten words—both had shown up the second the game ended, stripping off their pads and skates in the entrance to the medical room before sandwiching Finn between them. Leo had been unusually quiet. They had won the game; from what Finn saw on the television in the corner of the room, Alex had reamed out the guy that hit Finn with a vengeance. Tampa had been disjointed, and the Lions swept in as a cohesive pack, out for blood.

“I was worried about you,” Leo said at last, resting his temple on Finn’s shoulder. He sighed, then shifted impossibly closer. “Couldn’t get through the crowd.”

“I thought Talker and Loops were gonna kill that guy after he hit you,” Logan said with a shake of his head. “Looks like Alex did it for him.”

“What, you didn’t get into your shining armor for me?” Finn teased, nuzzling his nose against Logan’s cheek to draw even a slight smile from him.

“Maybe next time.”

“No,” Leo mumbled, linking his fingers with Finn’s purple ones and lifting them to his lips for a brief kiss. It was a clean break, but would still take weeks to heal. Big blue eyes landed on him, melting his heart like they always did. “No ‘next times’, okay?”

“Aw, Knutty,” Finn said, barely above a whisper. He wrapped one arm around each of them and held them tight, soaking in the feeling of having both crushed against him. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

Logan tucked his face into Finn’s neck. “Nothing to be sorry for, mon rouge. We’re just glad you’re alright.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” a voice said from the door. Alex shifted his weight back and forth, twisting his baseball cap in his hands like he always did when he was nervous. Finn didn’t hesitate before extracting himself from the cuddle pile and crossing the room; Alex met him halfway and engulfed him in a hug. A shudder ran through him under Finn’s palms. “Jesus, Finn, you scared the hell out of me.”

“Sorry,” Finn mumbled into his hoodie, letting himself be cocooned by distilled safety. Even out of his skates, Alex had a good two inches on him, and he had always been the broader of the two—Finn suddenly felt about six years old, as if he had just skinned his knee on the sidewalk.

“What’s the diagnosis?”

“Closed break, clean fracture. I’ll be out for a month or two.” He stepped back and swiped a hand under his nose, then tilted his head toward Leo and Logan with a wry smile. “But I’ve got these two to look after me.”

Alex scanned his face for a moment; his mouth dipped on one side. “I called mom and dad, told ‘em you’re okay. You should tell them yourself, though. They were freaking out.”

“I will,” Finn promised.

The worry creasing his brow didn’t diminish as he wrapped Finn in his arms again, holding him tight. “Keep me updated, yeah? If I don’t hear from you, I’ll get the captain on your ass, and he won’t be as nice about it as I will.”

“Deal.”

“Knutty, Lo, drive safe. If he tries to pull some stupid shit, I’m counting on your survival skills to stop it.”

“Survival skills?” Leo half-laughed.

Alex pulled away and raised his eyebrows. “They don’t call me Hurricane O’Hara for nothing.”

His eyes flickered back to Finn, who was horrified to see slight redness around the rims despite the teasing in his voice. “Alex,” he said softly. “I’m okay, I swear.”

“I know.” His voice was gruff, but it poorly hid a sniffle as he bumped their foreheads together. “But I’m your brother. It’s my job to worry about you. I hate that one of my guys was at fault here.”

Finn tried for a smile, socking him on the arm. “Six weeks, and I’ll be good as new.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” With a final survey of his face and a kiss to the top of his head, Alex headed back out into the hall with his shoulders up near his ears. Finn sighed; he hated it when Alex was upset, and even more when there was nothing he could do to fix it except wait. He didn’t know what he’d do if one of his teammates broke his brother.

“Fish?” Leo was smiling when he turned around. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“What kind?”

“The kind where I pull out all the sob story pity points on Cap’s soft heart and get us babysitting privileges for his incredibly fluffy dog after three months of constant begging.”

Finn’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”

“Make sure you look extra sad when we leave,” Logan advised. “We can’t lose this opportunity because you were too perky about a broken arm.”

“Quick, someone make me cry.”

Leo’s grin turned to horror. “What?”

“No!” Logan said at the same time.

“You guys are killing me here,” Finn groaned. “Just, like, hit me in the arm or something.”

“No!” they shouted in unison.

“You said I need to look sad!”

“I meant pout and sigh!” Logan pulled him over by the hem of his shirt in clear distress. “You’ve already cried too much tonight. No more.”

“Alright,” Finn agreed, already wracking his brain for any smidgen of drama skills he might have acquired over the years. Younger siblings were always the best actors, of course—he had given some Oscar-worthy performances to his mom when Alex got on his nerves as a kid—but Sirius was tough to fool. Maybe if he stayed quiet and didn’t risk opening his mouth they would get away with it.

Leo let out a slow exhale against his chest and snuggled closer before standing. “Come on, darlin,” he said with a kiss to Finn’s forehead. “Let’s get you settled. We’ll take a shower, have some dinner, and then we can put a movie on.”

“Mighty Ducks?” Finn asked hopefully.

Logan rolled his eyes. “Of course.”

[miiracleangel]

midnight moments

with the hot middle blocker squad

Suna, Tsukishima, Mattsun, Kuroo and Tendo

how i feel some midnight talks with some of our favorite middle blocker boys would go.

⚠︎︎ light nsfw and mentions of nsfw but it’s mainly fluff and chaos with tendo

❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎

Suna

Your lift your head up from your boyfriends chest to look at the time.

2:34am

“Fuck me” you whisper to yourself annoyed

“How can you think about fucking at a time like this” your boyfriend sleepily asks startling you. Moving his body from under you and flipping you both over with his body hovering over yours.

“ You scared me, i didn’t know you were up” you said while looking wide eyed at the ceiling while your boyfriend starts kissing at your neck and trailing down your chest before coming to a halt.

“Wait so you didn’t say that to me?”

“No Rin I was mostly talking to myself but please continue” you say quietly and amussed.

“Fuckkk thattt i’m going back to sleep” he says as a pout forms on your face watching him lay his head on your chest.

“Talk to me Rin”

“about?”

“anything”

“Alright well today Osamu “accidentally” rolled the ball cart into Astumu today and instead of apologizing Osamu punched Atsumu in the face”

“Wh-“

“Apparently Atsumu ate Osamus breakfast instead of making his own and that was his revenge”

“which one is Atsumu and which one is Osamu again”

“I don’t know”

“Rin what” he lets out a breathy laughs at your response. “Osamu has the grey hair, Atsumu has the yellow hair” he answers

“When did you finally realize you can tell them both appear?”

“two days ago”

“oh my god Rin”

“I’m playing it’s been awhile, it’s not exactly hard to tell them apart.” he mumbles. His fatigue soon taking over.

“I keep mixing up their names” you tell your boyfriend as he reaches for his phone and starts scrolling through it and brings it to your face.

“You took a video instead of stopping them?”

“yes”

“why”

“That requires me to actually do something about the situation instead of enjoy it”

“Alright Rin” you laugh as he lifts his body up to lay back next to you, laying on his stomach with a arm laid lazily across your chest. Soon sleep starts to creep upon you as well.

“Rin?”

“Sleep hoe damn”

“You’re next to be punched” he laughs at your quick remark and scoots closer to you so now you’re face to face and he plants a kiss on your lips.

“sleep” *kiss* “sleep” *kiss* “sleep-“

“I love you” you interrupt as you turn on your side to face him. Eyes closed, sleep finally taking over.

Your boyfriend smiles at your sleeping form and kisses your lips

“I love you too”

Tsukishima

“Oh my god go to sleep it’s 3am”

“cuddle me”

“why”

“Because i can’t sleep and i’m asking nicely”

Your boyfriend huffs and turns around in your bed to face you and pulls you to his chest.

“Thank you” you mumble snuggling closer to him.

“I’m gonna move”

“Don’t you dare Kei”

“Too late i’m moving” he says as he moves to lay on his back. “Now i can’t fall back asleep” he huffs.

“Wanna talk about something?” you ask moving your head to his chest as he put a hand on your back.

“Sure how about we talk about the fact my needy baby woke me up for absolutely no reason”

“ I’m gonna pretend you weren’t trying to make me sound annoying because you called me baby” you remark at him.

“You’re a pain” he remarks back

“And yet here you are next to me” you spit back.

He always loved these kinds of talks with you just back and forth with each other always wanting the last word.

He won’t admit it though you’ll use that shit against him.

“I’m here because you wanted to date me” he continues.

“You asked me out”

“You said yes”

“I should’ve said no”

“You really should’ve” he says making you both laugh at your antics.

“Believe it or not i actually like you and enjoy your presence” you say lifting your head up from his chest and resting your chin on him instead. Seeing him smile to himself while looking up at the ceiling.

“Believe it or not” he says looking down at your face, rubbing the back of his hand on your cheek.

“I’m actually in love with you”

“That’s gross Kei” you say laughing as you scoot up to lay your head in the crook of his neck and start drifting to sleep. “I’m pretty sure i’m more in love with you though”

“That’s embarrassing” he adds

“I know” were your last mumbled words before you fell asleep leaving your boyfriend to cuddle with your sleeping form. Sleep creeping upon him as well.

“I definitely love you more” he whispers into your forehead before planting a kiss on it.

Mattsun

“Issei...Issei” you repeat your boyfriends name while poking at his nose.

“Two more minutes mom” he says with a smile on his face, opening one eye to see your pouty face.

“Awww does my widdle babie have twouble sweeping” he jokingly says with a baby voice earning a eyeroll and a smile from you. He turns over so you both are facing each other.

“Did i wake you up”

“Yeah but i woke up to your dumb face so it’s okay”

“I hate you” he laughs at your reaction and starts kissing your nose between his words.

“i’m kidding i love your face” he says smiling at the end. “You wanna talk about something”

“Like what babe” you say, your big eyes staring at him through the dark room.

“let’s play 20 questions”

“Goodnight Issei”

“I’ll start, what’s your favorite color?”

You look at your boyfriend with dead eyes.

“Y/f/c, but you knew that right”

“of course i did baby” he says with a light giggle. “okay youre turn”

“What’s your favorite food”

“ those cheese filled burger steak things, but you knew that right?” he says making fun of your last remark.

you giggle “of course i did baby”

“Okay Issei next questi-“

“Are you a virgi-“

“you know the answer to that already Issei”

“shit you right” he laughs out at he goes to hover above you and starts kissing your lips.

he flips you both over so your straddling his hips, his hands roam over your ass. Fingers tracing along the hem of your underwear as you rub your clothed slit against his growing bulge

You break the kiss and sit up, stopping your movements

Mattsun let’s out a light groan “no baby keep goin-“

“My turn, if Makki was a girl would you fuck him?”

he looks at you surprised.

“depends”

“ON WHAT”

“If he has a fat ass then maybe but if he’s as flat as he is right now then no”

you look at your boyfriend dumbfounded

“unless i’m with you then obviously not unless...”

“unless what babe?” you ask moving your body to lay next to him with your head on his chest.

“threesom-“

“good night Issei” you move to your side of the bed and face away from him as he has a laughing fit.

“no baby come back next question”

you huff “Last question” you say as he sees sleep is starting to take over your mind.

He smiles at your sleepy face “How much do you love me” he asks tracing your facial features with his fingers.

“Like THIS much” you say extending your arms as far as they go.

“Well i love you THISSS much” he says extending his longer arms the same way you did then he pulls you to lay on his chest as you soon drift to sleep.

“i love you” you mumble

“cap”

“issei”

“i love you too baby”

Kuroo

You huff as you leave your room to go get a drink in the kitchen only to be met with the time on the stove

2:38am

after your drink you slowly make your way back to your room to be met with your shirtless boyfriend sitting up on your bed.

“can’t sleep” he asks as he pulls you to lay your head on his lap as you shake your head at his question. “Talk to me”

“That’s what i’m doing right now”

“well keep talking”

he rubs his hand through his hair “What do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know Tetsu tell me a joke” you say sarcasticlly just to get your boyfriend to say anythjng.

“I’d tell you a chemistry joke”

“Tetsuro”

“But i know i wouldn’t get a reaction” he says belting out his cackling laugh as you turn your head to look at him.

“nerd” you said to yourself loud enough for him to hear.

“You tell me a joke then”

“What do you do to your chemistry nerd boyfriend who keeps saying bad chemistry jokes?”

“i don’t know y/n”

“you BARIUM alive”

Kuroo laughs even louder at your joke causing you to sit up and smile at his face.

“That was good babe” he says wiping tears from his eyes.

“ I learned from the best” you say planting a kiss on his cheek.

Kuroo lays back down opening his arms to invite you to lay on his shirtless chest. You’re slowly being lulled to sleep by his heartbeat and slow breathing.

“How often do you make chemistry jokes anyway?” you ask him wondering if he annoys his teammates with the same jokes until you were pushed out your thoughts by your boyfriends giggle.

“periodically” he lets out another laugh as you roll your eyes.

“not funny didnt laugh”

“you kids don’t understand good humor”

“Kuroo you’re a month older than me” you say as he gives you another laugh

“babe”

“Tetsu”

“ You make me hotter then sulfur hydroxide mixed with ethyl acetate”

“you make me vomit” he laughs at your remark before kissing the top of your head.

You lift your head up to face him and he stares at you with an adoring face rubbing his thumb across your cheek. “don’t vomit on me” he says breaking your concentration, you roll your eyes and sit up on your elbows.

“Forget hydrogen, you’re my number one element” you say to your boyfriend before you kiss his lips to fall back asleep.

He just stares at you dumbfounded and a blushed mess.

“y/n”

“yes”

“I love you”

“I love you too nerd”

Tendo

my widdle chaotic babie

You wake up to a soft sucking feeling on your nipple and stir away to look down and see what you HOPE was your boyfriend stuffed in your shirt

“Satori?”

“mhm” he hums before releasing your nipple with a pop and wiggling his way through the top of your shirt.

“babe you’re going to stretch the shirt neckline stop” you mumble sleepiness still in your voice.

“I can’t sleep and this is my shirt anyways” he says now fully emerged so both your head and squished against each other.

you let out a breathy giggle as he kisses your cheeks “talk to me i’m boredddd” he whines.

“I can tell you a story” you said removing your arms from your shirt to hug your boyfriend who refuses to leave the comfort of inside your shared shirt.

“Make it good or i’ll bite your nipple” he threatnes scooting back down, emerging back into the shirt slowly.

“bite me nipp-AH”

he continues the light sucking on your nipples and waits for your story

“Okay fucker so Once upon a time” you started. “There was a little gremlin who woke up his master from their slumber when he SHOULD be fast asleep in his quarters.”

Tendo removes himself from under your shirt “This story sucks and it feels like an attack on my life”

He gets up and starts jumping on the bed.

“ARE U SERIOUS TORI?!”

“I. NEED. TO. SLEEP” he says between jumps.

“This isn’t the way Gizmo” you say laughing as he jumps down on his butt and laughs at the nickname.

“Gizmo wasn’t that cute when he was all angry and stuff” he pouts and you’re quick to comfort him.

“He was cute before all that and he is cute still now” you say not referring to the fictional movie character and Tendo smiles and plants a kiss on your lips.

“Come here my cute little gremlin” you continue and he takes his place cuddled next to you and gets attacked by your kisses.

“Emphasis on the cute right”he says letting you grab his face and plant kisses all around his cheeks and nose.

“of course” you say in between kisses.

He lets you continue the attack of kisses. Loving the attention from you.

“Do you love me?” he interrupts

“Of course Satori” he hums at your response and hugs you into his chest.

“Okay so that means you will stay with me forever?” he whispers back making it sound more like a demand than a question cuddling closer to you to fell back asleep.

“That was a little random but sure”

“Just cuddle me bitch”

“I am you cunt”

[wonderfilworld]

Celebrate - J.P.

James Potter x reader where James wins an important quidditch match and the reader wants to help him celebrate. 

a/n: this is based off a request I got from a lovely anon, thank you!! also, this is going to take place during 7th year and both james and reader are 18!

word count: 4.9k 

warnings/contains: NSFW!! smut: oral, unprotected sex, praise kink-ish; cursing; drinking. if I missed anything, let me know!

if you want more stories like this, send in a request here

Masterlist

you sat on the edge of your seat the whole game, chewing on your thumb as remus quietly berated you time and time again, stop doing that, he says, but you ignore him. you know how important this game is to your boyfriend: james had not been himself the past couple of weeks; school work was piling up and he was just not getting it. he was so stressed about school lately, and he confessed to you the other night that he was worried his recent mood change would affect this game. he takes quidditch seriously - so seriously - and while you may not understand it, you love him with all your heart so you learn to love the things he loves. you quickly assured him that he was amazing and of course he would play great and that gryffindor just had to beat slytherin today or you wouldn’t give him kisses for a week. that seemed to get him, as he perked up and promised he would win, just for you.

you tried to pay attention to the game, you really did, but your eyes just wouldn’t leave your boyfriends figure as he sat atop his broomstick. he just looked so good - tan and dark beautiful hair, and his muscles, god, his muscles made you weak. you seriously hoped gryffindor could pull this win off, because you desperately wanted to give james the surprise you had planned. your boyfriend, however, had you wrapped around his finger, and you knew you would end up giving him his surprise either way. 

before you knew it, the game was over and gryffindor had won the match. you jumped up and down, attacking remus as you both cheered. you looked at james and saw him point to you, his signature smirk gracing his features. he and his teammates ran off to the locker rooms to change while the rest of your house headed to the common room to start the celebratory party. 

______

you had a cup of firewhisky in your hand, lightly humming to the music that flowed throughout the room. the air was thick; it was hot and people were standing entirely too close to you. sirius had just arrived to the party, and you rolled your eyes as he winked at you. you looked around to see if your boyfriend was right behind him, but you saw no sign of the brunette so you went back to swaying you hips to the music. 

you felt a pair of hands grab your waist from behind and you quickly jerk yourself around, ready to reprimand whoever thought they could grab you like that. you are instead met with your lover, “you know you’re not supposed to be drinking that stuff, princess,” james chastises you, looking down to the cup of alcohol in your hand. you have unfortunately come to realize that firewhisky is not your friend, recalling the night last year where you drank with the boys for the first time, and let’s just say that you are definitely not on good terms with firewhiskey, and james does not trust you within five feet of it. 

you scoff at his remark since you’re usually the one chiding him and reply, “I actually got this for you.” 

he throws a hand over his heart in fake indignation before taking the cup from your hands and puckering his lips for a kiss. “my bad, baby, can I make it up to you?” 

it’s your turn to scoff now as you lean on your tip toes to plant a quick peck to his puckered lips. he whines and tries to chase you for more but you quickly throw a finger in his face as you stop him, “don’t worry, baby, you’ll be getting plenty of kisses from me tonight.” 

He perks up at that, his smirk taking over his face and he takes his first sip of alcohol. he doesn’t want to get drunk, not even tipsy, but you were so sweet to get it for him and the action makes his chest tighten and warmth spread throughout his body. he loves you, and he never wastes an opportunity to tell or show you. he’s opting to show you right now, wants to drag you up the stairs and throw you on his bed and completely ruin you for being so amazing to him these past few weeks. 

it’s not like james to be insecure, he’s usually the optimistic one who always tries to keep a smile on your face, but the fact that you give as much as you get, really emphasizes to him that you’re equals, and that he can trust you with any and everything. he wraps his free arm around your waist as your hands come together on his chest to hold the fabric of his shirt. “I love you,” he breathes, and the sentiment is so sincere, the butterflies in your stomach go crazy, and you can’t help the smile that overtakes your visage. instead of answering, you lean back up to mold your lips with his, both hands coming to either side of his head. you love him too, he knows, and actions speak much louder than words. 

“hey, potter!” someone yells from across the crowded room. james groans as you break the kiss, looking back to the person who called for him. they wave him over and he looks back at you apologetically.

“go on,” you say, knowing that people want to congratulate him on a great game. usually he makes his rounds before he finds you at these parties, but he was so desperate to see you after his rough week that he forgot all about the other people in the room. you lean up to whisper in his ear before he departs from you, “come to your room when you’ve finished, I have a surprise for you.” he jerks his head back to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

“i’ll be quick,” he promises. 

“take your time,” you say with a smile. you run up the stairs to your dorm quickly, grabbing the treat you had just gotten for james from your latest hogsmead trip. you hastily make your way to james’ room, finding him sitting on the end of his bed waiting for you. 

he leans back on his hands as you shut the door, cocking his head to the side as he speaks. “where’d you go?” 

you walk towards him, climbing to sit astride his lap and you wrap your arms around his neck as you pull his lips to yours. 

you kiss him deep, not wasting time on teasing as you lick into his mouth. james groans, hands gripping your waist tightly. you break from the kiss, a string of spit connecting your mouths. james watches as it stretches and breaks and he groans again, and you can feel how he grows harder underneath you. “had to go get your surprise,” you say. 

his eyes are still on your wet mouth, but they shoot to your own at that, and a grin breaks out on his face. instead of replying, he grabs the back of your head and brings your mouths back together. it’s messy and fast and you can hardly breathe with how hard your faces are pressed together. his tongue is in your mouth, and you can taste the firewhisky on his breath as he licks around - at your teeth, the roof of your mouth, your own tongue. you’re beginning to grow hot, but not the same hot as before in the crowded common room. the kind of hot where your stomach churns with lust and if james doesn’t touch you soon you think you’ll explode. 

your hands are in his hair, pulling because you know he likes it. you’re hoping he gets the message, that you need some friction between your thighs, because his mouth is still on yours and you can’t break away. your core is tingling and you are desperate to have anything he’ll give you. luckily, james seems to understand as his hands return to your waist and pull your core directly on top of his cock, fully hard now and straining against the fabric of his jeans. the pressure gets him to finally break away from your lips so you can breathe and you both moan at the friction. he begins to kiss along your jaw, moving down the side of your neck as you continue the steady rocking of your hips. he begins to suck on a particularly sensitive spot on your neck and you whimper, your hips beginning to go a little harder against his. 

“shit -” james whispers, his own hips bucking up. he brings his head up to see your face; your head is thrown back, eyes closed and mouth parted slightly as little gasps leave your throat. “please sit on my face,” he begs, squeezing your hips.

you whimper again, dropping your head on his shoulder as your hips pick up the pace. his voice is deep and raspy, and all it does is add fuel to the fire burning in your core. you nod your head, bringing it back up to look in his eyes. “o-okay” you say quietly, and you hate yourself for not being able to speak clearly when you’re in this state, know that james loves to tease you about it. he taps your hip and you swing your leg off of him, sitting by his side. you watch as he scoots to the head of the bed, laying his head atop his pillow. “take your clothes off,” he tells you. 

you stand on shaky legs, grabbing the end of your shirt and pulling it over your head. you reach down and pop the button of your jeans, grabbing the zipper and pulling it down. once those are removed, you reach behind your back, unhooking the clasp of your bra as you watch james reach down to palm himself over his jeans. you see how his chest is moving up and down, breathing heavily and you see the way his eyelids flutter as he squeezes the bulge. once your bra is on the floor, you go to do the same to your panties, but james stops you.

“wait - leave those on,” he says.

you do as he says and climb on the bed to straddle him once more. you rock your hips again, the lack of clothing making the feeling absolutely delicious. your head drops back again as you beg him, “please let me take your clothes off.” 

“not yet baby, come up here,” he removes his glasses before setting them on the bedside table and then grabbing at your hips and pulling your body up. you’re nervous now and he can see it. he’s eaten you out plenty of times but this is different, but all he wants to do is watch your body writhe and jerk on top of him as you ride his tongue. he knows what his words do to you so he speaks again, “wanna taste that pretty pussy so bad, baby. please let me, wanna make you feel so good. want you to cum all over my face.”

you can’t help but moan as you nod your head, letting him lead you up until you’re hovering right over his mouth. you don’t want to look down, can’t handle that yet, so you close your eyes and grab the headboard. his hands go under your thighs and he grabs your hips once more. 

his tongue licks a broad stripe up your clothed cunt, making sure to apply extra pressure to your throbbing clit. you gasp as your head involuntarily drops down and your hips rock onto his face. his lips wrap around the sensitive nub and he sucks and you can’t help but to let out a loud moan. it feels so good, somehow even better than normal but you’re sure it’s because this is something new. 

he’s still licking over your panties, full on making out with your clothed pussy, and something about that makes you roll your hips again. it’s incredibly dirty, but you can’t find it in you to care - and neither can james apparently, as he lets out content sighs and moans as he eats you out. but eventually, you need more, your panties need to go and you need to feel his wet tongue and warm mouth all over you.

you whimper loudly as you bring a hand down to his head to grab his hair. “more please, I need - oh,” you moan as he hooks a finger into your underwear, pulling it to the side as he finally makes direct contact with your cunt. you’re dripping, and it’s all over his face and james doesn’t think he’s ever been happier. his tongue dips into you, licks around inside, before he brings it back out to lay flat on your clit. then he stops, eyes blinking open to look up at you. you whine when he doesn’t continue. “james,” you cry, “please.”

“ride my tongue,” he says, voice muffled against your pussy. you throw your head back as you whimper, and james can feel the way your cunt clenches due to his words. 

you don’t argue - mainly because you simply can’t speak - and you begin to slowly move your hips back and forth. it feels so good and moans leave your mouth every time you jerk forward. you circle your cunt on his tongue, and james groans loudly, hands squeezing the plush of your thighs. you’re full on humping his face now, hips speeding up as you chase your orgasm. you can feel it in your lower tummy, getting so tight and your vision is getting spotty. you can feel all the ridges of his tongue against your clit, and the tip of his tongue catches on it as you rear back and you cry out. your legs are shaking and your thighs are burning from holding yourself up and you need to cum now. 

it takes one more thrust against james’ mouth before your body jerks, and your hips stutter as you grip the headboard tightly between your hands, riding out your orgasm. your moans are loud, louder than they’ve ever been, and james is painfully hard beneath his pants. 

once your vision clears and the waves of pleasure subside, you get up from your spot over his face, and you crawl back until your mouth is on top of his, kissing him hard. his face is soaked and it makes you moan against his lips as you taste yourself. you fist his shirt between your hands before you lean back, taking james with you so you can finally get his clothes off. 

once you’ve pulled his shirt over his head, you throw it behind you, focusing on the zipper to his jeans. you yank his pants down, not even bothered with getting them off completely as you just want him in your mouth already. you push his upper body back down so he’s lying there, head on his pillow, watching you as you put your lips to his cock through his boxers. he hisses as you poke your tongue out, licking along the length of it. you would tease him more, you really would, but you’re impatient and he did just give you a mind blowing orgasm with his mouth just few seconds ago. so instead you put your fingers in the waist band of his boxers, pulling them down and you can’t help the moan that escapes you as his cock slaps against his stomach. he’s so incredibly hard - you can’t help but think that it must be so uncomfortable: it’s red and pre cum just keeps bubbling out of the tip; it’s already made a small puddle on james’ abdomen and your mouth waters at the sight. 

you wrap your hand around the base of james’ dick, giving it a little squeeze as you pick it up. you lean forward, placing a kiss right over the puddle of pre cum that’s on his stomach. you suck it up, swallowing before licking over the spot to make sure you get it all. your eyes are closed and you hear james let out a breathy chuckle as he mumbles quietly, “tease.” 

you pout, you wanna make him moan and curse and you want to taste more of the warm and salty liquid from your boyfriend’s cock. you lick the head of his dick, knowing how sensitive his slit is. you pay extra attention there, collecting more of his pre cum before you put the whole head in your mouth and suck lightly. 

james arches his back, whispering a quiet fuck. you continue to suckle at the head of his cock, he’s big and it’s easier for you to focus on the head with your mouth while your hands travel up and down the rest. james is breathing heavier now, and you reach up and grab his hand in your own to bring it down to your head. he understands what you want and he fists your hair in a make-shift pony tail as you start to lower your mouth on his cock even more. you start a steady rhythm up and down, using your hands on the parts that you can’t reach.

“oh fuck,” james pants. “just like that.” his hands grip your hair tighter and the throbbing of your cunt returns and you squeeze your thighs together to help quell it. he pulls your head up and off his cock and you whine as you look up at him. “spit on it,” he tells you. 

you lean up gathering saliva at the front of your mouth before pursing your lips and letting it drip out of your mouth and onto the tip of his dick. it twitches in your hand and you look back up to him for permission to continue. james nods, and so you go back down to take him into your mouth once more. you suck harder and james grunts, “love that fucking mouth,” he says, and it’s strained, and you moan around his cock and he groans louder. you love the praise he gives you, you want more of it, so you start to go faster, running your tongue along the vein that runs on the underside of his dick. you twist your hand right under his tip as you suck, and james drops his head back with a loud moan that has your cunt clenching around nothing. 

he pulls on your hair and you come off his cock with an obscenely loud pop! and under normal circumstances you would be extremely embarrassed, but at the current moment, with the dull throb in your core, you can’t find it in yourself to care. “get up here,” he orders. 

you crawl up his body until you put your pussy directly under his cock, and you can’t help but to grind into him as your lips meet in a messy kiss. every thing is just so wet - your mouths with saliva, your core with your slick and spit from james’ cock, and both of your bodies are shining with perspiration from your strenuous activities.

“please,” you whine. his cockhead is catching your clit just right on every roll of your hips and you feel tears well up in your eyes as the pull in your tummy grows. 

“please what?” james asks, and he seems to be much more put together than you in this moment. you pout, looking at him as you move your hips in a circle, and james closes his eyes and lets out a deep sigh. “tell me,” he whispers, hands roaming to your ass and pulling you harder onto him. 

“want you,” you say, your voice a breathy whimper. 

“yeah?” he asks, like he had no idea. his hips thrust up into yours and your eyes nearly roll back as you nod your head furiously. 

“yeah,” you say, “wanna feel you in me.” and james can’t help the groan that leaves him, can’t help the way his cock twitches and threatens to explode his seed between the two of you. 

you continue, wanting to get your point across that you needed him to fuck you now, “you played so good today. wanna make you feel good.” you ended your plea with another circle of your hips, leaning down to capture james’ bottom lip in your mouth. you bite down, not hard, just enough to leave indents in the sensitive skin, and you pull it back. you let go while you look into his eyes as you keep circling your hips. at this point, james is steadily meeting your thrusts, with a tight hold on your back side as he humps up into you. both of you are panting and you know you don’t need to do any further convincing.

“hands and knees,” james says and you waste no time getting in position, your panties are still on, so james sits on his knees behind you and you arch your back, pushing your ass towards him. 

you feel a sharp smack against the flesh there, and you fall forward onto your elbows as you cry out. you turn your head to look back with a pout on your face as james slips his fingers under the waist band of your underwear and tugs them down your legs. you help him remove them all the way before he brings a hand back to your sopping cunt. he inserts his middle finger and you moan at the stretch. the sound it makes as he pumps his finger into you is obscene and you feel your cheeks heat up even more as you bury your face into james’ pillow. you feel lips meet the base of your spine as james places a sweet kiss there, and he starts sucking as he inserts another finger. it goes in without any resistance - you’re so turned on you could probably take his cock without needing his fingers first, but james is a sucker for foreplay and you can’t really say you mind at all. 

“so fucking wet,” james whispers, and you think he’s talking more to himself than anything, eyes zoned in on how you cunt stretches around his thick fingers. and you are wet, soaking really; it’s running down your thighs and is covering james’ hand, and he fucking loves it. 

you’re moaning loudly now, his fingers hitting the sensitive spot inside you that only he can reach; little ah, ah, ah’s leaving your mouth in time with the thrusts of his fingers. 

suddenly they’re gone, and you’re whining loudly, but james just ignores you as he pumps his cock, spreading the wetness you left in his palm over himself before he lines it up with your fluttering pussy. “you want it, baby?” he taunts and you mewl, back arching because of course you want it. 

you tell him this: “yes, please, fuck me.” the tears are back, threatening to spill as james runs his cock up and down your folds, hitting your clit and smirking as he watches your body jerk. he decides not to torture you more, decides you’ve been good, so he slowly pushes his cock inside, watching the way your pussy sucks him in.

“s’this what you wanted, baby?” he asks as he fills you completely, hips flush to your ass. you clench around his cock intentionally, hoping he takes that as an answer because you genuinely don’t think you can speak right now. your brain is mush and all you can focus on is the way his cock presses against your walls. you want him to move, to fuck you into his mattress so hard that your throat is raw from screaming and your hips are bruised from his tight grasp. you whine when he doesn’t move, and you push against him. 

his right hand travels up your spine to grip the back of your neck, holding you down as his left wraps around your front to find your neglected clit. he still hasn’t moved, and your cunt keeps fluttering around him as he circles the sensitive bud. 

“oh,” you gasp, and the hand on your neck is holding you down, his hips flush against you keep you from moving so you can’t do anything except feel the way his fingers circle your clit, the burning in your stomach growing tighter. “please,” you sob, the tears have fallen now, making a wet patch on james’ pillow as you try to move your hips. 

and james finally takes pity on you, your cunt clenching incredibly tight around him and he can’t take it anymore. he leans back to grab your hips with both hands as he pulls almost all the way out before slamming back in. your upper body shoots forward with the force of his thrust and your eyes shut tightly as you feel his cock reach the deepest parts of you. he doesn’t let up, continues the violent rhythm of fucking you into his mattress and it’s exactly what you wanted. it’s overwhelming, the pleasure, and you can’t do anything except moan loudly and hope that the music downstairs is loud enough to drown you out. 

“love this fucking cunt,” james growls, eyes glued to the spot where he goes in and out. it’s dirty, and so fucking hot and he is so fucking close to cumming. “you know that?” he asks you, but how the fuck are you supposed to answer when the only thing leaving your mouth are sobs. you’re shaking again, legs weak as james mercilessly pounds into your soaking pussy. 

“please,” you beg again. you need to cum; orgasm bubbling in your stomach as his cock repeatedly hits the sensitive spot inside you. 

“wanna cum baby?” james speaks, his fingers finding your clit and toying with it once more. “gonna cum for me like a good girl, huh?” 

and it’s the pet name that does it for you because yes you want to be a good girl for him, the best girl, and you cry out his name as you cum on his cock, whiny moans leaving your mouth because james doesn’t stop moving, still needs to chase his release. you can hear him panting, hear the sound of his hips slapping your ass with each thrust, and you tighten your core around him even more.

“oh fuck,” he groans, throwing his head back. his eyes are closed now, focusing on the way your cunt clenches around his cock. it’s wet and so warm and he’s almost there. “gonna cum,” he pants, “gonna cum in this tight fucking pussy.” 

you moan again at how desperate he sounds, “please, please, please,” you beg, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts. 

“shit,” james hisses, and then he’s cumming; spilling into you as his hips press flush against your ass. you moan at the feeling of it, squeezing his cock and milking him for all he’s worth. 

james pulls out, collapsing on the bed beside you as you let your knees out from under you, laying on your stomach. the only sound in the room is your heavy breathing and the faint thumping of music from downstairs. 

he turns on his side, putting his hand on your back to stroke up and down soothingly. you turn your head to face him, seeing that he’s put his glasses back on and you’re met with a cocky smile. “that was good, huh?” he asks, smirk wide as he winks at you. 

you laugh, because duh, it was good, and you think james has a praise kink almost as much as you. instead of answering verbally, you lean over and plant a sweet kiss against his lips. he cups your face, running his thumb across your cheek as you pull back. “thanks for my surprise, baby,” he says quietly.

your eyes widen as you sit up, completely forgetting the treats you had brought for james from your room. “what? that wasn’t your surprise.” 

you lean over the bed to find your pants and dig out the present you got for james. you set them in his lap as you get underneath the covers. “that’s your surprise.” 

james is stunned, picks up the new candies he told you he discovered. “oh,” he says. “I thought hot sex was my surprise.” he’s blushing now, and you laugh softly as you lean forward and place a sweet peck on his cheek. 

“the sex was a bonus,” you tease him, “but I wanted to get these for you because I remember you said you liked them. I know things have been hard lately with school and all, and I know this doesn’t really help or anything but -” 

james cuts off your rambling as he grabs your head to bring your lips back down to his. his glasses bump your face and he smiles into the kiss, and you lean back to look at him. 

“I love you,” he says quietly. “thank you for everything.” 

you smile back, and you roll to lay on top of him again as you say, “I love you too.” 

[ahtsumu]

目送 ; oikawa tooru

「alt. title: five times oikawa didn’t look back and the one time he did」

↳ pairing: oikawa tooru x f!reader

↳ synopsis: you spend a lifetime watching him go, sometimes with your stomach tied in knots, sometimes with tears in your eyes, but always with love.

↳ genre(s): angst, fluff, basically an emotional rollercoaster, non-linear storyline

↳ warning(s): profanity, depiction of a panic attack, suggestive themes

↳ length: 5.4k words

↳ a/n: hq fam how we doing after 402 ?? LOL anyway this is my birthday gift to oikawa tooru: my sun, moon, and stars, second to none, yadda yadda. the title is taken from a book with the same name, in case you were wondering. please pay attention to the roman numerals ahead of each section!! enjoy!

v.

“This is the last call for Japan Airlines flight 717 to Buenos Aires, now boarding at gate number twelve. This is the last call…”

Goodbyes are hard when you know they’re forever. Or at least a while.

The clamour of Haneda airport dims to a faint buzz as the two of you continue standing with touching shoulders–– facing the jetliner instead of each other–– in futile hopes of delaying the inevitable.

Oikawa knows that you’re holding in your tears by the light tremors running through your body. Permitting himself to steal a look at your side profile, he notices the familiar tensing of your jaw and hard-set look in your red-rimmed eyes.

Tch. You said you wouldn’t cry.

Impulsively, he unzips his backpack and pulls out a familiar turquoise banner. It feels like just yesterday the team handed him the silk fabric with everyone’s farewell gifts wrapped inside.

Out-of-sequence memories of the Spring High qualifiers flash through your mind. The orange-haired Karasuno player’s spike ricochets off Oikawa’s forearms. The numbers on both sides of the scoreboard slowly inch up like they’re taking turns. Oikawa’s white knuckles against the metal basin. Red eyes. Heaving chest. Something soft against your skin. Rule the Court.

And just like the last time, he gently drapes it over your shoulders, brushing his fingers against your neck as he does so. God, how he wants to kiss you.

“But it’s yours,” you protest weakly, making no move to give it back.

“It won’t be for a while.” His voice cracks when he speaks. But it will be mine again when I come back for it.

He wants to kiss you. One last time.

He wants your mouth against his like absolution to a sinner because he knows that what he’s done to you, what he’s doing to you right now, is comparable to desecration. But he remembers the look on your face that night he broke the news to you. How your megawatt grin caved into a wince when the length of his contract with Club Athletico San Juan finally registered in your mind.

You swallow your feelings of betrayal. You knew what you were getting yourself into.

“Five years is an awfully long time to be apart,” you say after a while.

Oikawa bites his lip. He doesn’t have the heart to say that five was just the starting number. If he does well there, he’ll probably stay longer. He’ll probably do well there. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

Seconds drag into minutes. The cavity in his stomach festers as he waits for your response, but he has a feeling that he already knows your answer.

So instead, all he can do when your floodgates finally burst open is cup your face in his calloused palms and wipe away some of your tears before offering you his own watery smile.

Through your blurred vision, you watch as the boy in front of you steels his resolve and disappears from your life through the jet bridge, ignoring his heart as it begs for one last look over his shoulder.

Oikawa nods numbly when the old man sitting beside him asks if he’s leaving home for the first time. Home, he realises, isn’t anywhere with walls, isn’t an address, isn’t even a person. When someone says they want to go home, it’s not a space that they yearn for, but rather, a time.

He watches Japan grow smaller through the window and feels himself yearn for the time he still had your heart in his hands. It felt like he was holding the sun.

i.

You wouldn’t consider July 21st to be a special day. Nothing special happened earlier that morning when you woke up without your usual alarm. Nothing special happened when your friends texted you four simple words–– come to Azukihana beach!–– during breakfast. But (and this will come to you much, much later) something special happened when said friends left you to guard their things as they dashed to the supermarket for more snacks.

For now, it’s just July 21st, and you’re lying with your back against a towel on the first day of summer break, soaking in the sun, peacefully flipping through a book.

“DON’T FUCKING DO IT, YOU COLOSSAL PIECE OF SHIT!” The familiar voice tears through the beach. Was that Iwaizumi? You set the book down and sit up to check.

And suddenly, the yellow and blue volleyball that had been leisurely rolling your way halts perfectly before your toes. Behind it jogs a shirtless brunet you’ve definitely seen around school.

Oikawa Tooru stops right behind the runaway volleyball and peers at you through half-lidded eyes. “Sorry about that,” he says, flashing you a charming smile.

After casually picking up the ball with one hand, he flexes his abdominal muscles as he straightens back up. Chestnut irises attempt to discreetly sweep over your features but you catch his gaze in the act, quirking an unamused brow. You also catch the intrigued twitch of his lips that follow.

You’re not stupid. Despite having never met him, you know a lot about the Grand King (as many call him). He’s the constant subject of Iwaizumi’s ire and you’ve heard a lifetime’s complaints about him at joint-family luncheons.

But here’s what’s important: you know that he tears himself apart to be the player his team needs him to be, that he sometimes makes Iwaizumi wish he’d passed the Shiratorizawa entrance exam, and that he fiddles with hearts like origami and sets fire to those beautiful fragile trinkets right after.

And in the interest of self-defence (but against what the devil on your shoulder begs), you choose to not place your most prized possession on the table.

A simple “no worries” passes through your lips. You return to your book. A page turns.

Oikawa Tooru is dismissed.

Though your gaze is trained on the page, you can feel his presence at your feet for a few seconds longer. You wonder what his next move is. Much to your surprise, instead of trying to strike up another conversation, he simply lets out an airy hum and strolls back to the sand court where he came from without a second glance.

Iwaizumi wonders why Oikawa is smiling so victoriously after watching the whole ordeal, but your tan family friend has, unlike the calculating Grand King, failed to notice one important detail:

your book is upside down.

And, as if in a trance, your eyes have followed Oikawa all the way back to his sandy kingdom.

Once the sun has set, Iwaizumi checks his phone and notices a text he’d missed in the afternoon. It’s from Y/N. Unease digs itself in his chest when he realises it can’t possibly be for anything except…

hey what was that about?

This can’t be good. Thumbs rapidly typing a response, he races to quash any interest you may have budding in Oikawa. You… you’re good. Nice. Smart enough for UTokyo. A bit naive, but he’s been around your overbearing parents long enough to see it’s not entirely your fault. And even though you run in different circles at school, he feels obligated to protect you from monsters that hide beneath pretty surfaces. He’s known you since the two of you were in diapers.

just trash being what it is

Iwaizumi watches the three grey dots on your side appear, disappear, reappear, and disappear again. And that’s when he realises that he cannot help you. The villain in this arc of your story has already sunken his teeth in your tender, unsullied flesh.

trash?

He sighs.

oikawa

It isn’t a surprise to Iwaizumi when summer break ends and Oikawa’s chestnut eyes start hunting for someone in the cafeteria during lunch. He doesn’t raise a brow when he hears that the second-year captain has been sneaking into Class 7, sometimes with flowers in his hands, and strolling out with a dazed look on his face. He slaps his teammates out of shock when Oikawa mentions his troubles with pursuing some girl–– but not before slapping himself first. Because the Oikawa he knows is not a chaser.

“Her name’s Y/N,” the brunet says, suddenly realising that he has never introduced any of his temporary interests to the team. But it’s been well over two months and he’s starting to think he’s been friend-zoned. Or worse. “I think she hates me.” He laughs melodically, then cocks his head in contemplation. “Is it weird that I kinda like that?”

Iwaizumi hides a satisfied smile behind a sip of water. Oikawa’s revelation has cleared the unease your name brought to his chest. Just a little. Perhaps he’d misread you. You have a bite of your own.

iii.

It’s routine for Oikawa to slink into Class 7 with a dazzling grin during morning break, but he’ll sometimes show up with flowers instead just to remind you that his affections, along with his modus operandi–– haven’t changed since he first started visiting you in September.

The girls in your homeroom have grown used to seeing the six-foot-tall volleyball captain hovering around your desk like a butterfly. Most treat him as part of the scenery nowadays. To them, Oikawa Tooru is no longer the mysterious, out-of-reach deity the rest of the school still paints him to be.

So when he strolls into class on a chilly January afternoon with your name a tune on his lips, they leave him be. Recently, the ladies of Seijoh have focused their attentions on some fellow on the swim team, anyway. Oikawa doesn’t feel as upset as he thinks he should about his shrinking fan club, but when his gaze finds yours already steady, expectant, utterly adoring on him, he understands why.

“For the lady,” he says like he does every time. A cluster of yellow flowers wrapped in brown kraft paper plop onto your desk. He pulls a chair up to your side, purposely ignoring, again, how two certain grooves in the wooden floor keep growing deeper with his visits.

You remember the first time he started bringing you flowers.

A posy of pink flowers sits awkwardly on your desk, untouched.

“I tell you I’d rather take your serve to my face than attend the bunkasai with you and your response is to give me weeds?” you reply with your chin in the palm of your hands, amusement blossoming over your features.

“Stop being a tease, Y/N-chan, they’re flowers,” he huffs, crossing his arms on your desk. “And I know you want to take them. The florist even said I have immaculate taste.”

“Really? Then what do these mean?”

Oikawa falters.

“Hmm?”

“Pink camellias,” he finally says, carefully enunciating the flower's name, “means that you’re a fucking tease. And that you should come to the bunkasai with me.” You snort and tell him to quit volleyball and join comedy club, feeling a strange warmth in your chest when he laughs.

The two of you fall into the same rhythm as always, talking a little bit about this and that, throwing in witty remarks where they belong, never passing up the chance to make fun of each other’s little idiosyncrasies. He’s enraptured by the way you string words together to describe the story behind your class’s bunkasai performance and all the gears in your brain whirr when he explains the strategy he’s using against the team Seijoh’s playing later that day.

When the bell rings, he reluctantly drags his chair back to the desk he stole it from. Just before he slinks back out the door, though, you tell him with a stern gaze that the Ushiwaka from Shiratorizawa he just spent the break shit-talking doesn’t hold a candle to Seijoh’s Grand King.

It’s like you had just stepped under a new light. Oikawa pauses in front of the doorway, trying to decipher what it is that’s different about you. And suddenly, the roses in his cheeks are in full bloom. Delighted and puzzled at his own realisation, he turns around without a second glance your way and strides back to Class 5. Oh, man, he muses as he passes through the emptying corridor. Oh, man. Iwa-chan is going to love this.

Your phone buzzes later that evening.

seijoh v. shiratorizawa 1-2, the text reads, quickly followed by, GAH.

Your lips twitch, though it doesn’t reach your eyes. Tapping your fingers against your phone screen for a response that’ll cheer him up, you suddenly remember a phrase Oikawa said earlier that day. It drew a laugh from you when it came out his contorted face.  He was obviously still hung up over with the words of the opposing team’s ace. Hopefully, it makes him feel something else coming from you.

you should’ve come to shiratorizawa, you send, grinning.

His response is immediate.

l m f A O

what flowers would you like at your funeral?

And then you’re reminded of his petalled gift on your desk, now comfortably sitting in a glass vase at your bedside. Pink camellias, he said? Curious, you open your laptop and type in the name for its meaning.

Longing, you remember, watching your boyfriend chatter about something–– probably aliens–– animatedly. The yellow flowers on your desk, you realise, are ones you’ve never seen before.

“Oikawa, what’s the name of these?” you suddenly ask. He stops in the middle of his sentence (he was definitely talking about aliens, by the way), and grins smugly.

“Jonquils,” he says with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “spelt J-O-N-Q-U-I-L-S, means that your boyfriend’s going to colonise Mars one day. And if you’re lucky, you can be the first queen of Mars. How ‘bout that?”

It doesn’t mean what he says it does, by the way.

ii.

Splashes of pink and orange have already settled into the blue sky above when you step onto the rooftop of Seijoh’s humanities building. Despite the breeze that has swept through the air, the flame of curiosity in your stomach burns just enough for you to turn a cheek to the cold.

Come to the rooftop at 6 PM.

It’s 5:59. Impatient, you study the note in your hand again. Maybe you’ll be able to glean something from the laconic letter this time.

Much to your irritation, no one had seen the author of this note. They had expertly placed the unsigned card on your desk with a single rose and Hershey’s chocolate kiss on top during lunch. Elegantly scrawled, their seven words have had your brain running circles all day around their identity. Could it be…? No–– he seemed completely normal earlier today. Still, you can’t shake your suspicions. They borderline hope.

Who else…

You inhale the cool air deeply and lean back against the rooftop railing, eyes burning a hole into the metal entrance. The door swings open with a high-pitched groan. Your breath catches in your throat.

… if not him?

Time briefly stops when Oikawa Tooru steps through the entrance, still in his volleyball uniform, sweaty from practice, cheeks the same colour as the setting sun. There’s an unusually tentative look on his face, though it’s immediately wiped off and replaced with the realisation that this is real when he sees you slightly slack-jawed, blinking once, twice, three times before letting out a breath.

“You look surprised. Expecting someone else to confess today?” he asks, crossing his arms in front of his uniformed chest. Despite how his features are contorted by his poorly hidden jealousy, you can’t help but feel a flood of blood rush through your veins, lighting every inch of your skin on fire.

Because whether he knows it or not, Oikawa, the Grand King of the Court, prettiest boy in all of Miyagi, has skipped the table and placed his heart straight into your hands.

“Of course not,” you retort. “I just didn’t think you’d… well, do something like this.” And I didn’t want to get my hopes up. Iwaizumi’s words still find their way into your mind sometimes. I didn’t want origami made from my heartstrings.

Oikawa’s demeanour changes and his eyes dart away from your face. Shoving his hands into his windbreaker’s pockets, he admits, “I’ve honestly never done something like this before.” A faint blush spreads across his cheeks.

“Really? You’ve never stepped foot in the fourteenth shrine of Sendai?” you tease, referring to how Seijoh students have claimed this very rooftop as one of the God of Love’s many temples. You both know he holds the school record for the number of visits to this rooftop. At this rate, he could be one of its caretakers.

“That’s not what I meant,” he replies with a scowl, though the awkward tension between you two dissipates. And it feels like the two of you are back at your desk in Class 7, snickering uncontrollably while throwing playful jabs at each other. Sensing the change in atmosphere, Oikawa finally steps forward to join you by the railing.

Humming softly, he rests his elbows on the metal bar, props his head up with his hands, and sets his gaze on the lowering sun.

It’d be unfair to say that you didn’t at least try to enjoy the moment of peace with the boy beside you. But there’s a burning question on your mind that you can’t put off asking any longer.

“Why me?” you finally blurt out. “You could have any girl in this school. What made you choose me?”

The brunet whips his head around, disbelief written all over his face. “You think I chose to chase after the most annoying girl in all of Miyagi?” He laughs. “Ridiculous. I’d never willingly put myself through that unnecessary angst.”

You scoff and cross your arms.

“I think that when you like someone, it’s harder to explain why,” he quickly adds. “‘Cause it’s not supposed to make sense. I bet that the inability to explain your feelings is a prerequisite for true feelings, actually. It’s logical to say that you’d date Person A because they’re smart, or Person B because they’re hot, or Person C because they’re rich. But I’m pretty sure that that’s not… that’s not falling for someone. When you fall for someone… you just do. No logic required. You weren’t an option I ultimately settled on, Y/N. One day I just woke up and thought, if not you, then no one else.”

A beat passes. A flurry of words floods through your brain, only to evaporate when the devil on your shoulder decides that words aren’t quite adequate for what you want Oikawa to hear.

So instead, your feet take you one step closer into his space. Impulsively, your fingers find their way to his nape and your eyes flutter shut and suddenly–– suddenly, your parted lips brush against Oikawa’s. Instantly, he deepens the kiss, soft lips surging against yours like a pulse under pressure. You barely register his arms snaking around your waist, tighter and tighter until the space between your bodies is completely closed off.

Breathless, you finally detach your lips from his. Oikawa, who still has you encircled in his arms, pouts at the loss of contact, though he sulky façade only lasts a second before it gives way to a grin that stretches from ear to ear. He looks magnificent. Cheeks red, lips flushed, chest heaving, eyes wide with excitement. You want to kiss him again.

“One more.” It’s as if he read your mind. “To celebrate that last one.”

When Oikawa finally detaches himself from your lips, it’s to respond to the buzzing in his pocket. Noticing your raised brows, he explains that it’s an alarm for practice. The Spring High Prelims are just around the corner and he doesn’t plan on graduating without never having taken his team to Nationals.

“That’s my cue,” he states with a warm–– read: not apologetic–– smile. He doesn’t grab your hand or look imploringly into your eyes in hopes that you understand, never mind that you just shared your first kiss, never mind that you just became his girlfriend.

If Oikawa’s looking for any sign of your objection, he won’t find any. Instead, you step out of his space with an acquiescent nod. You knew what you were getting yourself into.

“Play well,” you say softly.

But before he heads for the creaky rooftop door, he presses one last kiss to your lips. And then he turns around, whistling as he goes, leaving you beaming behind his back with the light of a thousand suns.

iv.

When Matsukawa hands you the turquoise “Rule the Court” banner after the team lunch with a shit-eating grin on his face, the only resistance you offer is a resigned sigh.

“I’ve been dating Oikawa since we were second years,” you say flatly.

“Sorry, Y/N-san, but it’s the team’s hazing ritual,” he replies, not appearing sorry at all. “And you’re the only one who hasn’t done it.” He jerks his head at the blonde girl standing a little farther from the group with Hanamaki. “Emiko-san did it at the last game.”

“Plus, it’s the Spring High qualifier semifinals!” Kindaichi adds. “It’s an even bigger deal for you to do it now, especially since you had to miss our games on the first two days for school.” The team murmurs in agreement.

You shudder at the thought of your impending distress. Sit in the front row of the cheer squad and raise the banner with a scream every time your boyfriend serves? Fleeing from the Sendai City Gymnasium back home in an expensive taxi suddenly becomes very appealing.

Seeing the expectant and hopeful looks on the rest of the team’s faces, however, you begrudgingly place the banner in your backpack, signalling your acceptance of the horrible, cringe-worthy tradition.

“Where is Oikawa-san?” Kindaichi asks, rotating his turnip-shaped head around rapidly. “He was just at the team lunch. Iwaizumi-san’s missing too…”

Kunimi shrugs, pulling out his copy of the team schedule. He starts herding the team towards one of the courts. “Our game against Karasuno starts about an hour, so we should start warm-ups in around fifteen minutes.”

Worry creeps up your spine. For the past few days, all Oikawa has talked about is this match against his bratty kouhai’s team. And in the past two weeks leading up to today, you haven’t been able to even catch a glimpse of his face outside of break or lunch. To suddenly go missing before warm-ups doesn’t seem like Oikawa. You’re about to ask the team if he’s ever done this before, but your phone starts ringing a familiar tune and the question is set aside.

“Iwai––”

“Third-floor bathroom by the orange pillar. Come alone. Don’t tell anyone. Emergency.” Through his harsh and abrupt tone, you pick up traces of fear.

“What––”

“It’s Oikawa.” The call is cut before you can ask any more questions. Heart suddenly racing, you tell the team that your mother just called with questions about your new smart blender and excuse yourself to “explain what the manufacturers mean by salsify”. No one sees you bolt towards the nearest set of staircases with Oikawa the only thought on your mind.

There are very few things in this world that scare you. Stray hairs in the bathroom, the dark, essays longer than three pages… but the terror that short-circuits your brain when you find your boyfriend in the bathroom–– knuckles white around the sink, chest heaving violently, frenzied pupils surrounded by broken blood vessels–– trumps any fear you’ve faced before.

Iwaizumi stands helplessly beside him.

“Is he having a panic attack?” you question, still unable to move your feet. You’ve never seen Oikawa like this before. He’s the Grand King who hums while he walks, who spams your phone’s camera roll with peace-signs and funny faces, who winks and flirts and teases without regard. But watching the long-deified setter crumble like a measly human before you, you realise that Oikawa is also the guy who tore his meniscus from overexertion, who trades sleep to study his opponents play, who works his body to the bone just to stay a hairline above a certain Karasuno setter.

“A scout for the Schweiden Adlers said that Kageyama will soon surpass Oikawa in skill.” Iwaizumi explains how they had overheard the conversation lowly in your ear. “I got us into this bathroom just before he completely lost it. 5-4-3-2-1 isn’t working. And he won’t listen to a word I say.” What’s 5-4-3-2-1? Well, if it isn’t working then don’t focus on that right now.

Your eyes dart to Oikawa’s quivering body again. “I don’t know how to pull someone out of a panic attack.”

“The goal is to ground him. So use physical touch, make him feel something with texture, and get him to talk,” he responds instantly. Mechanically. Like he’s all-too-familiar with this set of instructions. A heaviness grows in the pit of your stomach when you realise what that means for Oikawa. And yet, from that very dread sprouts strength.

Slowly, you tread over to Oikawa and place a hand on his arm. His muscles tense under your touch but when you murmur over and over that it’s “Y/N, your girlfriend, the most annoying girl in Miyagi”, his fingers loosen ever-so-slightly from the metal basin. He lets you lead him to the bench by the door. He lets you drape the Seijoh banner over his shoulders like it’s armour and wrap your arms around his waist. He lets you press your cheek to his sweat-drenched back.

Get him to talk.

“Remember that quote you showed me from that interview of yours? What was it again?” you question softly.

No response.

“If you’re going to hit it, hit it until it breaks,” you say into his ear.

Through the mirror, you see his eyes widen with recognition. In the brief moment of lucidity that washes over Oikawa’s glistening face, you repeat the original question again, followed by his own quote.

Again and again.

And Oikawa finally says back.

“If you’re going to hit it, hit it until it breaks.” Focus re-enters his gaze. He blinks as if just waking from a spell.

“That’s right,” you say as firmly as possible. “So don’t you dare break first, Tooru.”

An unreadable blend of emotions scrawls itself over his features. While Oikawa washes his face with cold water, you remember rumination and resolve but can’t decipher the rest, giving up anyway when Iwaizumi pushes open the bathroom door. When the light washes over Oikawa, his face shows no signs of the episode he just had. It’s just like how the sky moves on after a storm, how the sun beams to say, “I’m here now. The rain has gone.”

But sometimes it still rains in spite of the sun.

A sunshower. It sounds so beautiful. But it’s wonderfully sad.

The three of you wordlessly make your way to the court where the rest of Seijoh is likely getting ready to warm up. What are you supposed to say after that? What can you say?

Once the smell of air salonpas and sweat finally greets your nose, Oikawa slips the Seijoh banner off his back and hands it over to you. Guessing that’s your cue to leave, you tell him to play well like you always do before starting to head for the upper deck. Softly, Oikawa asks you to wait.

“Stay for warm-ups,” he adds. “Please.”

From your spot behind the Seijoh divider, you carefully watch for any signs of another breakdown. To your relief, he goes the entire half-hour without a single crack in his disposition, exchanging laidback grins with the team, bantering with Iwaizumi. At one point he even has the audacity to taunt the Karasuno setter Tobio-chan, as Oikawa often says with a sneer.

Sunshowers, Y/N. Sunshowers.

Just before the referees call for the teams to line up at their ends of the court, Oikawa jogs over to you, eyes folding into thin crescents when he smiles.

He pulls the Seijoh banner out from your hands and gingerly cloaks it around your shoulders. Oikawa presses a quick kiss to your lips and murmurs, “Thank you.” Something in face tells you that it’s supposed to mean more than gratitude. Before you can read more into it, he turns back around and jogs to the line where his team awaits. Oikawa grins ferally.

Knowing that your luminous eyes are fixed to his back like his own set of wings, the monster crows on the other side suddenly look more like humans.

vi.

Oikawa isn’t surprised that his text is still unopened. At twenty-seven years old, he’s had his fair share of dead-ends when it comes to love. But he hadn’t expected radio silence from you of all people.

After closing all the tabs of Team Japan’s latest matches, he powers off his laptop and checks his phone again to reread what he wrote to your old number one last time. Still nothing. It’s highly probable you’ve changed phone numbers at least once in the last nine years, but the disappointment’s still there after he powers his phone off for the night. Tomorrow’s a big day and he’s not the same victim of self-destruction he had been in high school.

Or so he thinks, realising that texting the last person he loved the night before the 2021 Olympics volleyball finals might have been slightly irresponsible on his part. A thought arises in his head, though he quickly quashes it. Asking Iwaizumi to pass the message along would be a little overboard, wouldn’t it? Oikawa chuckles, imagining he response he’d get from his best friend (and Team Japan’s team trainer, that traitor).

“Go the fuck to sleep or I’ll put you to sleep, you dumbass simp,” he hears in Iwaizumi’s gruff voice.

He convinces himself that you’ll be there like you’ve always been. After all, he’s spent a lifetime with your pair of watchful eyes on his back. Satisfied, he drifts into a dreamless sleep.

The volume in the Ariake Arena is astronomical. Blood pounds against his ears as he sets the ball in the air, a monstrous grin carving into his face when his teammate José spikes the set straight down the net, drawing a wave of oohs and aahs from spectators on both sides.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes at the flashy Team Argentina setter and finishes taping up Ushijima’s arm.

Oikawa turns haughtily towards the opposite team, gaze zeroing in on Team Japan’s raven-haired setter and the shrimpy ginger beside him. It’s been a while since he last saw them this close in person–– the chance encounter with Hinata in Brazil happened well over three years ago and he hadn’t had the time earlier in the tournament to say hello. Of course they’re the final boss in this arc, he muses, though the thought is void of vexation. Instead, begrudging pride blossoms in his chest. Truthfully, he had expected nothing less from his kouhai.

And he expects nothing less than finally tasting the ambrosia of victory against that monster–– no, an entire generation of monsters–– today. Monsters who happen to be the kids he grew up beside.

He wonders what you’d say at the sight of Japan’s greatest players all gathered on one court. On instinct, his eyes dive into the bleachers, searching for your face. Knowing he’s not likely to find you like this, he tsks, deciding to look for Iwaizumi instead. Maybe he knows where you are.

The referees signal for both teams to line up at their ends of the court. As he steps onto the white boundary line, he notices Iwaizumi’s gaze transfixed on someone in the upper deck on Team Argentina’s side. The neutral expression on his face morphs into shock, then recognition. And then he glances at Oikawa.

The latter’s brows furrow before everything clicks in place.

Who else…

All your memories together hit him at full force–– your face shimmering with tears in front of gate twelve in Haneda Airport, the feeling of your shallow breaths against his neck, the savvy lilt to your voice as you speak.

… if not her?

For the first time in his life, Oikawa Tooru looks behind his shoulder.

And there you are, leaning against the railing with the old Seijoh flag draped over your shoulders, a tender, splendid smile on your lips.

“Play well,” you mouth.

And Oikawa feels the sun rise back into his hands.

[onigirintarou]

Ed Sheeran songs that describe how HQ boys love you

Ft. the Miyas, Suna, Sakusa, Iwaizumi, Oikawa, Bokuto, Ushijima, Kuroo

Tenerife Sea – Miya Atsumu

And should this be the last thing I see. I want you to know it’s enough for me. Cuz all that you are is all that I’ll ever need.

We are surrounded by all of these lies and people who talk too much. You’ve got the kind of look in your eyes as if no one knows anything but us.

Congratulations to this menace because Tenerife Sea is my fav Ed Sheeran song.

I am a firm believer that Miya Atsumu loves hard and he loves loud.

His social media posts consist of volleyball pics, the occasional thirst trap, Onigiri Miya content, and of course, you. The captions are always cheesy but he doesn't care. People who have the audacity to talk poorly about you are immediately on his shit list and blocked.

If he could make a PSA to tell the world that he's yours, he would.

How would you feel if I told you I loved you? It’s just something that I want to do. I’m taking my time, spending my life, falling deeper in love with you.

How Would You Feel? - Miya Osamu

Our favourite Onigiri chef isn't the biggest fan of expressing his emotions through words

He fumbles and often finds himself sticking his foot in his mouth especially when it comes to you

Instead, he shows his love for you through his actions. 

He wakes up before you do even on days where he doesn't have to open his restaurant until hours after you leave, just to make you breakfast. 

He takes the time to separate peas from your fried rice because he knows that you hate their texture (they end up on his plate because Osamu does not waste food). 

He has a soft grasp on your elbow when you're walking together which changes to a firmer grasp at intersections so that you stop and don't inadvertently walk into traffic.

You know that he loves you, but when he actually says it???

*404 Error* you forgot to say it back because you were in too much shock

Photograph – Suna Rintarou

We keep this love in a photograph. We made these memories for ourselves.

Suna has an album on his phone dedicated to you

He'll take what he calls "candid photos" which to you means that he's got his phone out and thumb already on the button when you slip up and do something silly, which, when you're around him is often

Those are his fav pics though - pics of you blearily wiping the sleep from your eyes, pics of you smiling down at the rudimentary latte art he drew in your mug (it was a dick!), even pics of you glaring at him and giving him the finger hold a special place in his heart.

Kiss Me – Sakusa Kiyoomi

I was made to keep your body warm. But I’m cold as the wind blows, so hold me in your arms.

Contrary to popular belief, Sakusa loves physical affection, only if it comes from you

Man is so in love with you that he'll indulge in some PDA to his teammates' complete shock and awe - "Did ya see Sakusa pull his mask down to give Y/N a kiss?" R.I.P. Tsumu

All of the Stars – Iwaizumi Hajime

You’re on the other side as the skyline splits in two. Miles away from seeing you. But I can see the stars from America. I wonder do you see them too?

Both of our hearts believe, all of these stars will guide us home.

Iwa canonically (maybe??? lol) goes to California to intern under Ushijima's dad

You cannot tell me that he doesn't fall either 1) have someone waiting for him in Japan or 2) leave someone waiting for him in California

The Joker and the Queen – Oikawa Tooru

I showed you my hand and you still let me win. And who was I to say that this was meant to be? The road that was broken brought us together.

And I know you could fall for a thousand kings... when I fold, you see the best in me.

the ANGST

most of the angst stems from Oikawa's belief that he isn't enough for you

he'll push you away and make you believe that you aren't enough for him

we stan a king with both an inferiority AND superiority complex

when you FINALLY FINALLY get together though, words cannot describe how grateful he is that you took a chance on him

Lay It All On Me – Bokuto Kotaro

No, you don’t have to keep it under lock and key ‘cause I will never let you down. And if you can’t escape all your uncertainties baby I can show you how.

Let my love in, lay your heart on me.

Bokuto is a firm believer in letting you feel your feels

My guy is emotionally intelligent and incredibly perceptive to your emotions.

Give Me Love – Ushijima Wakatoshi

Give me love like her ‘cause lately I’ve been waking up alone.

And it’s been a while but I still feel the same. Maybe I should let you go.

All I want is the taste that your lips allow.

the ANGST PART TWO

Ushijima strikes me as the kind of guy to not know what he has until it's slipping through his fingertips

But the utter desperation that he feels once he realizes!!!

Wake Me Up – Kuroo Tetsurou

‘Cause maybe you’re loveable... And you should never cut your hair ‘cause I love the way you flick it off your shoulder.

And now I’ve always been shit at computer games because your brother always beats me.

And you will never know just how beautiful you are to me. But maybe I’m just in love when you wake me up.

Kuroo X Kenma's sister supremacy

Idek if Kenma has a sister lol but I look at Kuroo and get massive best friend's brother feels

[yoshkeii]

"𝚂𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎."

࿐ character(s): Kuroo Tetsurou, Daichi Sawamura, Suna Rintarou

࿐ genre: sfw, soft/fluff

࿐ type: headcanons (hcs)

࿐ requested by: N/A

⌦  male!reader (he/him)

⌦ ‘some tiny and cute things i think the boys do that i find very intimate’n’sweet.’

A/N: more self-indulgent things bc i can <3.

𝙺𝚞𝚛𝚘𝚘:

❀ i can find this man to be very affectionate and even clingy when it comes to you, even if you are out in public, but he’s not too clingy in public but definitely behind walls and in a comfortable space. 

❀ he loves, loves to kiss, no matter if its receiving or giving- the kisses can last a quick second or a long moment, there really is no inbetween. 

❀ quick kisses often consist of him softly kissing your forehead, cheek, all-over your face, lips, and even hands.

❀ whenever you both cuddle and are comfortable, he sometimes will grab your hands and kiss your palm, even knuckles as his amber eyes look up at you from his position. a sly but dorky smile creeping on his face.

❀ removing your hands from his grasp you hide your face with your hands, completely flustered and caught off guard. the chuckle of Tetsurou's laugh leaving his lips before he peppers your hands with kisses, eventually removing your hands and peppering your face. earning soft giggles and laughs between you both.

❀ after long, exhausting days of work he loves to come home to you. of course he does, he looks forward to the cuddles and nice ‘welcome home’ greeting him at the door as you softly peck his cheek. his face flushing up lightly.

❀ but besides the most soft quick kisses, the long passionate ones are far different. 

❀ tiring days are when he’s most desperate, yearning affection from his boyfriend who’s already at home. as soon as his eyes sees you once he enters the shared home, he rushes over towards your figure. always hugging from behind before making you face him, smashing his lips on yours. 

❀ it was affectionate and rushed before it gradually eased down into softer movements, as it does you can feel the soft smile he makes during the kiss. he really missed you.

❀ im sorry- that these are just him kissing you- but he would never slip up the chance to kiss your handsome, beautiful, cute face. istg. he wont.

❀ this man will chase after your lips once you pull away too-

❀ anyways- its not just him kissing you all the time,, mostly. but he will hug you from behind. quite often! its a common thing in public actually...

❀ i kinda see him as the type to watch you from the doorway as you obliviously do something. not noticing the bed-head male in your peripheral vision.

❀ this often opens a chance for him to sneak a hug from behind and/or a kiss on your head. easily making you startled and maybe- screaming- if possible.

❀ hearing his dumbass laugh as his grip tightened around your torso, staying there watching you slowly continue your work. knowing you’re- maybe- a little angry at him from the scare, but he definitely know you’ll warm up quickly. you always do.

𝙳𝚊𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚒:

❀ i really need to write more this man, bc oh i so so so adore his ass so much. he gives off such a comfy and safe vibe to me i’d give my life to him. 

❀ I- aNYwAYS- 

❀ he would hug you a lot. so much. and it feels for secured n safe, its a haven in between his arms. even comfortable too from the warmth he radiates, cuddles with him doesn’t often need too much blankets knowing Sawamura can be a heater by himself.

❀ man just gives the biggest, warmest hugs.

❀ he doesn’t mind hugging you, holding a hand, or linking arms to make you feel his warmth when cold. he actually likes it but won’t bluntly say it unless he wants to tease you.

❀ and oh yeah, he keeps the things like those to himself until he uses it as a teasing weapon. smiling to himself as he stares at your flustered expression that stared back at him, your eyes averting and face quickly hidden in embarrassment.

❀ kisses aren’t too common unlike Tetsurou, but he will do them behind walls. just soft pecks on your face whenever he feels affection and giddy or really whenever he misses you- 

❀ cuddles with him are sometimes giggly! just relaxing against each other as you both talk about silly things and hectic things that happened in your day or past, laughing at each others stories. 

❀ hearing one another’s hearty genuine laughs never fails to awestruck the other in the heart, but it easily plays off from the unwavering laughter you both have. only to cuddle into each others body once more.

❀ seeing him win any games with his team, and he sees your figure rushing off towards him. Sawamura will not hesitate to lift you up as he hugs you, feeling your feet above the flat surface you slightly panic but peering down at your boyfriend’s face instantly removes the anxious feeling at the genuine happy expression he has. 

❀ sometimes he’ll twirl you around in his arms lightly before settling you back down with a nervous laugh, embarrassed he just- did that- but he brushes it off really quickly unless his teammates nag him about it. 

❀ honestly the man to encourage his s/o whenever they are down, using words or even reassuring actions somehow boosts the mood (or at least eases the tension down.)

𝚂𝚞𝚗𝚊:

❀ kinda- kinda see him as a cuddle bug. i genuinely do.

❀ he would never refuse a cuddle-session that includes you in it,, and will d r o p everything he’s doing just to cuddle with you, seriously. he’ll use it as a excuse to avoid doing work sometimes- but you’ll scold him about it later.

❀ big spoon him and he’ll love it, every moment of it. he feels nice and comfy in this position often.

❀ whenever cuddling he will give you little pats and messes with your hair if you let him, and the occasion soft pecks on your face. usually your cheek, nose, or forehead.

❀ sometimes will squish your face with his hands, he often doesn’t do so because of how calloused and rough his hands can be because of practice and being a middleblocker. so he’s conscious about it with you, but the reassurance you give relieves him.

❀ during cuddle sessions, Rintarou would definitely show you things on his phone he’d think you like. knowing your interests rather well from listening and remembering conversations you’ve had.

❀ speaking of him remembering things, he keeps mental notes on passionate subjects or things you like. and sometimes will surprise you about it with an accumulated gift or item.

❀ Rintarou is really supportive of whatever you are passionate about or into, will literally slander who discourages or fucks with you. and he won’t hesistate, you are his king, prince, emperor- his everything. he’s not gonna hold back on that poor person who makes you feel bad.

❀ whenever he sees you cry, he’s the type to instinctively wipe away the tears. his thumb brushing your cheek and below your eyes as the tears flow, watching you let it out before embracing you into a hug. muttering soft reassurances and patting your back before you ease down.

❀ and thats when he cues his dumb jokes and sayings to you, using it to hear that soft laugh erupting from your chest.

❀ during games his eyes would drift towards the crowd just to find you. Kita and/or ‘Tsumu would bark at him about it, wanting to get his attention during the game-

❀ he’d share videos everytime the miya twins do stupid shit and have crazy antics, whether that’s sending you a video or a photo with a dumbass caption. hoping to make you laugh from it on the other screen.

[nightwcngs]

Jason Todd | Why

Pairing: Jason Todd x F!Reader Prompt: "Sometimes I question why you're with me." Warnings: language, slight angst Word Count: 1.3k A/N: it has been too long since I've written for Jason (or dc in general). This is loosely based off of the song "I Love You" by Avril Lavigne

You've always liked his smile. Not the one he gave to family, friends, or teammates - that one could easily be faked if he was having an off day. No, the smile you adored was the he reserved for private moments with you. The one that he couldn't help but show off as a laugh escaped him, one you could easily pull from him. If you had to pick, your favorite would definitely be the one he gave you when you caught him staring at you. A shy grin plastered on his face as a blush tinted his cheeks.

Hell, it was just one of the many things you loved about Jason Todd.

Jason wasn't always so good with his words, but he couldn't help but wonder how he ended up with someone like you. Or why you were with him. Whenever he asked what was so great about him, you always answered with a simple 'everything'. Feelings of insecurity stopped him from asking anything further.

In the end, he settled for the simple answer because he didn't want to push it. He was so scared one day you'd get tired of his insecurities and questioning that you'd leave. He's had enough people walk away from him, he didn't want to lose you as well.

It was when he watched you clean up after dinner he knew he had to ask. He was staying over your place for the night, and even watching you do something as simple as cleaning dishes got butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He didn't want this feeling to go away - even if it meant being a little vulnerable.

"Let me help you with that."

"You don't have to," your smile was enough to have his heart beating faster.

"After all the shit you do for me, it's the least I can do."

You nodded, handing him a few things to wash. You knew something was on his mind but always knew when to ask and when to let him say so on his own. Jason had little quirks that you only got to knew once you spent enough time with you. And he, thankfully, let you in a lot sooner then you expected.

He spoke up once the dishes were done, the words left his lips so quietly you weren't sure you heard him correctly.

"What was that, Jay?"

"I said, we need to talk. Got some shit on my mind."

You nodded, following him to the couch. You were preparing yourself for the worst, thinking Jason was about to break up with you. A little breath of relief left you when it was just the opposite.

"I need to know, why are you with me? And please don't just say that you think everything about me is so great. I just - I've done a lot of fucked up things, [Y/N]. You could have anyone you want and you chose to be by my side this whole time. Why?"

You thought over your next words carefully. You didn't want to scare him off. An idea then hit you, a small smile pulling at your lips.

"Can I show you something?"

Jason simply nodded, brow furrowed in confusion. He followed you to your bedroom, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he watched you climb under the bed. Confusion turned into curiosity when you pulled out a rectangular box and gently placed it on the bed. A simple label with the word "memories" scribbled across it laid smoothly on the lid.

"What's all that?"

Jason came to sit behind you, arms loosely slipping around your waist as his chin rested against your shoulder. His eyes widened when he saw the contents of the box; it was all things that had to do with him and your relationship.

"You're always telling me how you've done some bad things, how I deserve better. Take a look at these, it might help change your mind."

Jason watched in awe as you pointed out the items.

"Here's the pictures from the photo booth we took on our first date. That's one of my favorite things about you; how you're not really one for tradition. First dates usually consist of dinner and a movie and you're over here taking me on rides at an amusement park."

Jason chuckled, smiling at the memory, "I wanted to make a good first impression. I was nervous as fuck you weren't gonna end up liking me."

"If I didn't like you I wouldn't have gone the done, silly."

Jason smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple as you went through more items. As you shifted things around, something caught his eye.

"Oh hey, look at this! It's the rock I got you from the beach!" He paused, "You know, saying that out loud just makes me want to die of embarrassment. 'Oh hey honey, here I got you this rock.' What am I, a fucking bird?"

You couldn't help the laughter that escaped you, "You're a dork. It's cute, and don't you remember you wrote our initials on the back?"

Jason turned the rock over, smiling as his thumb ran over the dried ink.

"Of course I remember. It was the day I realized I was in love with you. Couldn't help but tell you a week later."

Your silence was deafening. He was worried he said something wrong. He looked down at you, only to see the tears welling in your eyes. He panicked, grip tightening as he kissed your head.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

You shook your head, "Sorry, just thinking back over all this is a little overwhelming. I just - holy shit do I love you. And I can't help but wonder why you would think I would want anyone else and the man in front of me is everything I could've asked for."

Jason was quiet as you put the box away. When you came back up, he was still in the same position, lost in thought. You gently rested a hand on his thigh, squeezing softly.

"Hey, talk to me. No judgment here, baby."

"I guess after everything I've been through, it's hard to accept you want to be with me. I try to do right by you, treat you as I should, but that doesn't explain why you love me. I don't think anyone would fall in love with their partner because they got a rock."

A small laugh escaped you as you stood between his parted thighs. Your arms loosely locked around his neck as you kissed him.

"It's quite simple, Jason. The reason I love you, is you. You are a puzzle I slowly got to put together, and I fell more in love with you with each piece I found. Every day with you is so much better than the last, and I'll take every good and every bad if it means getting to be with you."

A few tears fell as your words sunk in. He pulled you in for a hug, a hand cradling your head. You only pulled away when he calmed down, your eyes meeting his steel blue ones.

"Are you okay? Are your questions answered?"

Jason nodded, pulling you in for a sweet kiss.

"Yeah, just realized something."

"What's that?"

A smile pulled at his lips as he kissed you again, "How lucky am I to be able to be loved by you?"

[hookingminor]

highly requested part 2 to this angsty blurb, and this marks the end of my 2k blurb weekend! thank you all for joining me and I hope you enjoyed!

-

Matthew wandered back to the hotel well after midnight.

The rehearsal dinner ended around nine in the evening, but after spending an hour on that deck thinking about everything you said, he decided to take a long walk around the neighborhood.

He wandered through the church venue Willow had booked and sat at the pews for a few minutes, taking in all the decorations that were already set up. Then, he made his way back to the barn where the reception would take place, and all of it just felt wrong: the decor, the table settings, the flowers, none of it felt right.

Matthew didn’t put much thought into the wedding, per Willow’s requests, but it only hit him just how little he contributed to all of it as he sat on his hotel bed and thought about what his ideal wedding would look like.

He didn’t even want to get married in Calgary.

It made sense he would since Willow had lived here her whole life, but Matthew always imagined his wedding taking place in St. Louis where his entire family and all his friends could attend. Besides his immediate family and teammates, no one else could make the long trip to Calgary for his wedding.

When Matthew pictured his wedding, he also pictured you standing at the end of the aisle, too. Matthew was sure Willow’s dress would be gorgeous and she would look absolutely beautiful tomorrow, but when he pictured you standing there in her place, he was filled with a fluttering of butterflies in his stomach he couldn’t deny.

Which is what led him to knocking on Willow’s door at one in the morning.

It took a few minutes before she woke, bleary eyed and confused as to why her fiance was seeking her out so late in the night. “Matthew? What is it? You’re not supposed to see me before the wedding.” She pulled her robe tighter around her body, as if trying to shield Matthew’s eyes from her.

That was another superstition Matthew didn’t like. He nearly begged Willow to spend the night with him before the wedding, not buying into the ‘bad luck’ bullshit people always said about sleeping together before the ceremony, but she wouldn’t budge.

“I know, I’m sorry for the intrusion, but I think we need to talk,” Matthew said. He was still dressed in his suit from the dinner, though he’d shed his jacket and tie long ago. Willow’s face fell at his words, but she let him inside her room anyway.

Matthew sat on the edge of the bed awkwardly and fiddled with his thumbs as Willow sat next to him. Silence filled the room. Matthew didn’t know how to say it.

“Is this about Y/N?” Willow asked calmly after a few minutes passed. “I saw you two talking outside earlier.”

Matthew looked at his fiance, her eyes sad and face dismal. He nodded.

“I figured,” she sighed.

“I’m sorry,” Matthew said because he didn’t know what else to say.

Then Willow said the most unexpected thing.

“It’s okay.”

Matthew’s confusion was clear on his face, and Willow let out a genuine laugh as she took his hand in hers.

“I thought if you saw her and she moved on, we could’ve made this work, but that wasn’t the case, was it?” She asked, and Matthew nodded again.

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” she continued. “I always knew you still loved her.”

“I really did love you,” Matthew said. “I do love you… it’s just…”

“You love her more,” Willow finished for him.

“I am sorry,” Matthew pleaded. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, but then I saw her and… I can’t let her go.”

“I know,” Willow said, squeezing his hand comfortingly, and then let out a deep sigh. “Well, I guess we better tell our folks the wedding’s off, huh?”

-

Matthew showed up to your place a month later.

He stood outside your apartment, nervous and shaking, with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands. You hadn’t heard from him since booking the first flight out of Calgary, dodging all his calls and texts that came in over the week after his wedding. You effectively stayed off social media, deleting all the apps you knew you still had Matthew on in fear of seeing wedding pictures.

The surprise on your face was evident when you answered the door to find Matthew on the other side.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on your honeymoon or something?” You asked.

“I didn’t go through with it. I couldn’t after seeing you,” Matthew explained. “Can I come in?”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you let Matthew follow you inside. He’d never seen your apartment before. You’d moved places shortly after your breakup, trying to erase the memories of Matthew that existed on every surface of your old apartment.

He held out the flowers for you, which you took and placed into a vase and filled with water. Matthew’s eyes roamed your new place, taking in all the photos you had on your fridge to the books you kept on your bookshelves.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Matthew?” You asked.

Matthew’s gaze focused back on you. “I always hated it when you called me Matthew.” A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“What do you want?” You rephrased, ignoring his comment.

“I want to give us another shot,” Matthew answered confidently.

You weren’t quite sure what you were expecting him to say, but it was definitely not that.

“Matthew—”

“And before you tell me how bad of an idea it is, because I know that’s what you’re about to say, just hear me out.”

Your mouth snapped shut and you waited for him to continue.

“I love you. I’m in love with you. I have been for years, and I’m never going to not be in love with you,” Matthew said. “After you left, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I realized that marrying Willow wasn’t what I wanted. When I picture my future I see you in it. I see you at the end of that aisle on our wedding day. I see you and me in a house with a dog and maybe a few kids. I see you waiting for me at home at the end of the day, and I see you beside me when I wake up in the morning.”

“Matthew, we tried this before,” you sighed. “We tried the long distance, and it didn’t work.”

“And I’m willing to try again,” Matthew replied, crossing the few feet of space between you to cup your face in his hands. “We were young and dumb and immature, and I pressured you to change your life for me when I shouldn’t have. I’m not asking you to pack up your life and move to Calgary right now. Hell, if you don't ever want to move to Canada, you don’t have to. I’ll move to wherever you want to be because wherever you are is where I belong.”

“I’m in this for the long haul,” he added. “There is no one else out there for me, and there never will be.”

Tears welled in your eyes at his profession, and Matthew’s thumb came to swipe at a stray tear that rolled down your cheek.

“What makes you think this time will be different?” You questioned softly.

“Because I’m different. We’re different. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make you happy. You’re all I want.”

“You’d really request a trade for me?” Matthew nodded.

“It wasn’t fair to put that all on you then, and I know that. I shouldn’t have asked you to do something I wasn’t willing to do myself, but I’m telling you now that I’d do anything for you,” he answered.

Throwing your arms around Matthew’s neck, you pressed your entire body into his. Arms tightened around your torso, keeping you snug against him, and Matthew tucked your head into his chest.

“So what do you say? Can you give me a second chance?” He mumbled into your hair.

“I think we’re well past second chances,” you chuckled.

“I promise it’ll be the last one you need to give me,” Matthew laughed, grasping the base of your neck.

In an attempt to blink away his own tears, a few streamed down his cheeks. Leaning forward, you kissed away the tears, leaving his cheeks wet, but Matthew had a dopey grin on his face all the same.

“I’m all in,” you replied to his question, and Matthew had to take a second to make sure he heard you correctly.

His grin spread wider, and he crashed his lips to yours, both of your smiles getting in the way but neither of you cared. Matthew peppered your face in kisses: your brow, your cheeks, your nose, your chin. There was not one inch of skin he left untouched.

You giggled in his arms, twisting your face to the side to avoid the tickling of his scruff against your cheeks, but he kept you close to his body.

“I love you,” he said finally, “and I’m sorry it took me so long to get my shit together.”

You caught his lips in a deep kiss. “All that matters is you’re here now.”

“Oh, I forgot something,” Matthew said, pulling back just enough to reach his hand into his pocket. 

A small box rested in the palm of his hand, and he opened it to show you the necklace he gifted to you nearly three years ago. When everything ended, you’d given it back to him, and he’d kept it tucked away in his bedside drawer since then.

The dainty ‘19’ hung from the chain, and Matthew undid the hook and looked at you with hopeful eyes. Your stomach did a flip as you turned around, and Matthew draped the jewelry around your neck, connecting it in the back and placing a soft kiss on the skin right above it.

“Now everything’s right where it belongs.”