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cyberl6ve · 2 months

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𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒! 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 — 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌

CHECK 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 FOR MORE!! (NSFW!!)

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

── .✦ : Chris and Nick Sturniolo, along with Y/N L/N, attend Tara Yummy's lavish 1 million subscribers party in LA. Chris, usually easygoing, feels an unexpected surge of jealousy when another guy starts dancing closely with Y/N. Unable to watch, Chris intervenes, pulling Y/N into a quiet corner. There, emotions ignite, leading to a passionate and revealing moment that changes everything between them.

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · 𝟐𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 !! · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

⋆˙⟡ STORY CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT !! ⋆˙⟡

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ : 𝐀𝐬 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐤, 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, my heart flutters with a mix of excitement and anticipation. This night feels special, a chance to celebrate Tara's achievement while surrounded by the bustling energy of LA. The sounds of laughter and music spill out from within, adding to the lively atmosphere.

As we step inside, the opulence of the venue becomes immediately evident. The air is filled with the scent of expensive cologne and champagne, and the room is ablaze with vibrant colors from the twinkling lights hanging overhead.

I scan the crowd, taking in the sea of strangers mingling around us. People chat and laugh, sipping their drinks and enjoying the party. Nick spots a group of people he knows nearby, and he signals us to follow him as he heads over to greet them.

We follow Nick through the vibrant room until we reach a small group of familiar faces standing together. Tara, smiling widely, spots us and waves us over. Her two friends, Jake and Johnnie, turn to greet us as well.

“Hey guys!” Tara greets us, her eyes shining with excitement. “I'm so glad you made it!”

“We wouldn't miss it for the world,” Nick replies, giving her a friendly hug.

My heart is beating a little faster as I stand there, trying to act casual but feeling a bit overwhelmed by the energy in the room.

Chris greets Tara with a casual hug before she turns to me, her eyes widening with curiosity. “I don't think we’ve met?” she says, smiling warmly. “I’m Tara! Are you Chris's girlfriend or something?”

I laugh at her comment, feeling a bit embarrassed but also amused. “No, no, he wishes though” I assure her, shaking my head. “I'm Y/N! I just moved here not too long ago!”

Tara nods, seemingly intrigued by our connection. “Oh, okay,” she says. “How do you know the triplets?”

I smile, happy to share our history. “Well, I've actually known them my whole life,” I explain. “We've been friends since we were kids.”

“Really?” Tara exclaims, looking genuinely surprised. “That’s so cool! It must be nice to have known each other for so long.”

I chuckle and agree. “It's definitely tiring hearing them argue all the time,” I admit, rolling my eyes jokingly. “But there are some moments of peace too.”

I nod, my expression softening. “They're amazing though,” I add. “They've always been there for me, through thick and thin.”

Tara smiles warmly, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “That's so sweet,” she says, gently placing a hand on my arm. “Can I ask you something?”

I smile at her question, interested in what she has to ask. “Of course, what's up?” I reply, giving her my full attention.

Tara leans closer, her voice low and conspiratorial as she asks her question: “Between Matt and Chris, since I know Nick is gay, have you ever slept with one of them?” Her words hang in the air, creating an intimate bubble between us amidst the raucous noise of the party.

Before I can respond to Tara's question, I feel Chris's hand reach for mine. His grip is firm, sending a shiver down my spine. I turn to see Chris suddenly beside me, his hand firmly holding onto mine.

I shake my head and answer Tara's question: “No, never.” She seems surprised, her eyes widening as she responds, “Never?” I laugh and confirm again, “Never.”

Tara then points between Chris and me, a curious gleam in her eyes. “There must be something going on between you two at least,” she says, arching an eyebrow.

I nod, a playful smile on my face, amused by Chris's behavior. “He gets a little overprotective sometimes,” I admit, looking at Chris's hand still holding onto mine. “That's why.”

Tara's eyes widen even further, her curiosity piqued. “Overprotective, huh?” she says, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “That definitely means something is there.”

I chuckled lightly, shrugging my shoulders as I reply, “Maybe so,” I say, my voice teasing. “We have our moments, you know, a little flirting here and there, but it's all just banter and jokes.”

Tara's smile widens, clearly intrigued by our relationship. “Oh, so there's some chemistry there,” she says, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

I laugh, feeling a bit flustered by her insistence. “I wouldn’t go that far,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant. “It’s mostly just harmless fun.”

Before she can say anything further, Chris leans closer to me, his breath warm against my ear. He murmurs softly, “We gotta move, Nick wants to go say hi to Larray, Ma.”

I nod, my attention momentarily shifted towards the direction Nick is in. I turn back to Tara with a warm smile, saying, “I was informed that we gotta go, but it was nice knowing you! You're such a lovely person.”

Tara smiles back, looking happy to have made a new connection. “It was nice knowing you too!” she says excitedly. “Here's my number, in case you ever want to hang out or chat.”

I beam, genuinely impressed and excited to have made friends with the group. “I'll definitely hit you up!” I say to Tara, and then add, pointing to her, Jake, and Johnnie, “Also, I'm such a big fan of all of you guys!”

We make our way through the crowd, Chris still holding onto my hand. When we reach Larray, Nick says hi and embraces him. Chris then steps forward and gives Larray a friendly hug, still keeping his grip on my hand.

I watch the scene unfold, my heart rate slightly elevated from the thrill of the moment and Chris's firm hold.

Larray catches sight of me and his face lights up, breaking into a wide grin. “How you been, girl?! I'm so excited to see you again!” he exclaims, immediately moving in for a enthusiastic hug.

I laugh and return his hug warmly, feeling the warmth of his welcoming embrace. “I've been good, just settling in,” I say, pulling back slightly to look at him. “How have you been?”

Larray beams, his energy contagious as always. “Couldn’t be better, you know me, always having a good time,” he says, his usual enthusiasm and positivity shining through. “It’s great to have you here. We need to catch up properly soon.”

I nod, eager to spend more time with him. “Definitely,” I agree. “Catch up soon, I’ve missed you.”

Larray smiles widely, his eyes raking over my dress appreciatively. “You look so good!” he exclaims, his voice full of admiration.

“Ugh, that black dress is everything!” He then turns to Chris, hitting him playfully on the shoulder. “Have you complemented your girl yet?”

Chris chuckles, his eyes flickering towards me before he responds, “What do you mean? She looks good every day.”

I feel a warm blush spread across my cheeks at their exchange, feeling both flattered and amused. Larray lets out a hearty laugh, clearly enjoying himself.

Larray takes Nick to the side, leaving Chris and I momentarily alone. We take a seat on a nearby couch, waiting for them to return. The music and chatter around us continues, but it's as if a bubble forms around us, enclosing us in our own little world.

Tara approaches our group and smiles, asking, “Can we get a picture?” We all nod excitedly, happy to commemorate the moment. Chris then chimes in, inquiring, “Can I get one of those stickers?” He points to the “I love Tara Yummy” sticker that she had in her hand.

Tara hands each of us a sticker, and then takes her place between Nick and me. We all hold up the stickers, a testament to our adoration for Tara. She plops down on the couch, resting her elbows on her knees and her chin on her palms, posing with a sly grin.

We take a few more photos, capturing the moment in an array of smiles and poses. Once they are done, Tara turns to us, her smile radiating gratitude.

“Thank you, guys!” she says, her voice filled with appreciation. Then, she moves on to take pictures with other people in the room, leaving us to chat amongst ourselves.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The night continues, and Tara returns to the group, joining in on our conversation. Suddenly, a camera approaches, and we all break into dance, letting loose amongst other party-goers. Chris moves his arms swaying gracefully in a back-and-forth motion, his gaze fixed on the camera. He looks absolutely good, exuding confidence and charm with every move.

Everyone takes a break and sits down, but Tara excuses herself to get another drink. Nick follows after her, heading towards the bar. Sitting next to Chris, I try to pull him up to dance with me, tugging on his arm playfully. However, he refuses to budge, playing along and keeping himself firmly seated.

“Come on, Chris,” I say, my voice filled with a mix of persuasion and lighthearted entreaty. “Dance with me.” I continue pulling his arm, my eyes fixed on his face, silently pleading for him to join me.

Chris laughs at my attempt to pull him up, his eyes sparkling with a mischievous gleam. “I’m comfortable where I am,” he replies, his tone playful. He leans back, making himself at home in his seat, enjoying my futile efforts to get him to dance.

With a resigned sigh, I reluctantly let go of his arm, realizing that he’s not budging. I start to dance, swaying to the music, but I do it in a way that is aimed at him, as if I’m trying to tease and tempt him to join me.

I dance, making myself seen, while Chris grins from his spot, his head bobbing slightly to the music in acknowledgment. He clearly has no intention of moving from his seat. He watches me with a glint in his eyes, enjoying the show I’m putting on solely for him.

My moves get a bit bolder, my body moving gracefully as I continue to dance in front of him. I try different spins and twirls, trying to get him to react. However, Chris remains unmoved, only watching me with a small smile on his face, relishing in my efforts to make him dance.

As I dance, a random guy approaches and invites me to dance with him. Seeing this as an opportunity, I decide to go along with it, plotting to make Chris jealous. I dance with the stranger, laughing and enjoying myself, all the while keeping my eyes on Chris to see how he reacts.

The moment I had been waiting for finally unfolds. As I dance with the stranger, feeling his hands touch me lightly, I see Chris’s expression harden. He leans forward, a possessive glint in his eyes, watching me closely.

The stranger’s hands move with me as we dance, his touch making me feel a mix of excitement and anticipation. I keep my gaze fixed on Chris, noticing the way his body tenses up and his jaw clenches. He’s clearly getting jealous.

The dance continues, the stranger’s hands roaming a bit more, but not crossing any lines. I maintain my gaze on Chris, relishing the effect my actions are having on him. His eyes are locked on me, a storm of jealousy and frustration brewing within them.

As the stranger’s hands linger a bit too long on my hips, I can see the anger building in Chris’s eyes. His body is tense, restraining himself from intervening. I know he’s at his limit, about to burst.

Chris had clearly reached his limit. His hand shoots out, grabbing my wrist firmly, his grip unyielding. He swiftly pulls me away from the stranger, his eyes filled with burning possessiveness. Without a word, he tows me through the crowd, his stride purposeful as he leads me towards the bathroom.

I follow behind him, slightly flustered by his sudden actions, struggling to keep up with his determined pace.

He opens the bathroom door and pulls me inside, locking it behind us. In the enclosed space, we’re alone, the noise of the party muffled by the door. He turns to me, his breathing slightly labored, his eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and desire.

Chris leans against the edge of the sink, the cool surface providing a stark contrast to his heated demeanor. His gaze remains fixed on me, his body tense, as if he’s barely holding himself back.

Chris’ voice is low and strained as he speaks, his eyes locked on mine, his words seething with jealousy. “You just don’t know when to stop,” he says, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“What was all that dancing with that guy?” he continues, his voice laced with frustration. “You’re trying to make me crazy, aren’t you?”

He pushes himself off the sink, his movements sharp and restless. He takes a step closer to me, his presence filling the small space. “You just loved the way he was touching you, didn’t you?”

I take a deep breath, a mixture of guilt and defensiveness swirling inside me. “Chris, c’mon don’t be like that.” My voice is soft yet firm, trying to diffuse the tension.

He lets out a scoff, his eyes darkening with jealousy and irritation. “Don’t be like what? You were trying to make me jealous, weren’t you? And you succeeded.”

I start to speak, my words coming out in a rush. “Chris...” but he cuts me off, his voice filled with possessive determination. “Nobody should be allowed to touch you if it’s not me.” His body is suddenly much closer, his towering form hovering over me, overwhelming in his intensity.

The tension in the bathroom reaches a boiling point. Chris’s eyes are dark, filled with a mix of anger and desire. He closes the remaining distance between us, his body pressing against mine, effectively trapping me against the wall.

His hand comes up to cup my face, his touch possessive and demanding. He leans in close, his breath warm against my skin as he speaks, his voice a low rumble.

“You’re mine. You got that?”

I can feel the heat radiating off him, the hard planes of his body against me. My breath catches in my throat, his words and actions igniting a spark of desire deep within me. I can only nod in reply, my own hands coming up to rest lightly on his chest, feeling the rapid thrum of his heartbeat.

His hand moves from my face, his fingers encircling my neck, the slight pressure a silent command. His voice is a rough growl as he speaks, his eyes locked on mine. “Use your words, ma.” The possessive nickname sending shivers down my spine.

I swallow the lump in my throat, my eyes locked on his, feeling his grip on my neck and his body pinning me against the wall. My voice comes out in a hoarse whisper, my own desire coloring my words.

“I’m yours, Chris. Only yours.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, the possessiveness in his eyes darkening at my words. He leans in closer, his face inches from mine, his breath hot on my skin.

“Damn right you are,”

He growls, his grip on my neck tightening ever so slightly. The air between us heats up, the tension crackling like electricity. Chris’s body presses even closer, his hips pinning me against the wall, his fingers flexing against my neck.

His words are a low rumble, his voice filled with a mix of possessiveness and desire. “I want you, ma. Right here, right now.”

Heat surges through my body at his words, a wave of desire crashing over me, drowning out any rational thought. Chris’s hand moves from my neck, sliding down to grip my hip, his touch firm and possessive. He crowds even closer, his body molding against mine, a heady mix of need and frustration in his eyes.

“I need you,” he growls, his voice a low rumble. “Now.”

With a low growl, Chris’s lips crush against mine, claiming my mouth in a fiery kiss. It’s a mixture of passion and possession, his tongue demanding entry, his fingers digging into my hip. I melt into the kiss, returning his fervor, my hands clutching at his hoodie, trying to pull him closer.

The kiss deepens, becoming more intense as our bodies press together, the bathroom seemingly shrinking around us. My fingers bunch the fabric of his hoodie, my body arching into him, seeking more contact, more of him. His other hand comes up to cup my jaw, tilting my head back to better plunder my mouth, his tongue exploring me with a possessive fervor.

I kiss him back with a fervor of my own, fueled by the heat and desire coiled tight in my gut. Every touch, every stroke of his tongue, sends a jolt of pleasure through me, and I can't help but press closer, seeking more of his touch, more of him. Our breaths mingle, our bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces, as the kiss deepens to a level of near desperation.

He moves his body against mine, pressing me further into the wall, the kiss growing even more intense as a low moan escapes his throat. I tangle my hands in his hair, pulling him closer still, losing myself in the sensation and the desperate need coursing through me.

Chris’s lips move from my mouth, trailing down my jaw to my neck, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine. He presses open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin, his tongue flicking out to taste me. A low, guttural moan escapes him, the sound vibrating against my skin as he continues his assault on my neck. His teeth graze my flesh, nipping and sucking at my skin, leaving behind a trail of fire.

The sensations of his mouth on my neck coupled with the heat of his body against mine is almost too much to bear. A soft, needy moan escapes my lips, the sound filled with pleasure and desire. My fingers tighten in his hair, my hips arching against his, seeking more of the friction as he continues to kiss and suck at my skin.

Chris pulls away for a moment, his lips glistening and eyes dark with desire. His voice is a low, rough timber as he speaks. “Jump,” he commands. Without hesitation, I do as he says, leaping up and trusting that he’ll catch me. True to his word, his arms come around me, effortlessly lifting me up and setting me down on the edge of the sink.

Chris's intense gaze rakes over my curves, his hands roaming across my hips as he steps between my thighs, pinning me to the sink. “You're so responsive,”he growls, voice thick with lust. “It's like you're made for me, molded to fit perfectly in my arms.”

Chris leans in close, his breath hot against my ear as he whispers, “Do you trust me?” I can feel the tension between us, the anticipation building to a fever pitch. With a nod, I place my hands on his shoulders and close my eyes, surrendering myself to him.

With a low growl, Chris wastes no time as he claims my lips in a bruising, passionate kiss. His hands roam over every inch of my body, possessive and dominant as he stakes his claim on me.

Chris's fingers hook into the hem of my black dress, pulling it up to reveal my thighs and the scrap of lace that I wear beneath. In one swift motion, he tears them away, leaving me bared to him in a way that I've never experienced before.

Chris's lips trail a fiery path down the column of my throat, pausing to nibble and suck at the sensitive skin there. His hot breath fans over my pulse point as he continues his descent, eventually kneeling before me. His hands grip my hips, pulling me forward until my thighs straddle his shoulders.

I can feel Chris's warm breath against my most intimate parts, causing a shiver to run down my spine. He looks up at me with those intense pearly blue eyes, his gaze searing into my very soul as he leans forward and presses a tender kiss to my clit. “Oh, god,”

Chris's tongue darts out, licking a slow, deliberate path through my slick folds. A low moan escapes my lips as he explores every inch of me, his hands gripping my thighs to hold me in place. He sucks gently on my clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my body.

Chris's eyes flick up to meet mine, dark with lust and adoration. I run my fingers through his hair, tangles the strands around my fist as he continues his ministrations. His breath hitches against my pussy, sending vibrations through my entire being.

Chris complies, his piercing gaze locking onto mine as I tighten my grip in his hair. His tongue circles my clit once more before he takes it between his lips, suckling gently. The dual sensations of his mouth on me and his eyes burning into mine are almost too much to bear.

Chris releases my clit with a pop, his fingers replacing his mouth as he begins to pump them into me. He curls them just right, hitting that sweet spot that makes my vision blur and my moans crescendo. I grind down onto his hand, desperate for more friction, more pleasure.

“You're so fucking tight,” Chris groans, his fingers plunging deeper into my heat. “I can't get enough of you.” He adds a third digit, stretching me further as he fucks into me with relentless abandon.

“Cum for me, Ma,” Chris commands, his voice husky and dripping with dominance. “Squeeze my fingers with your tight little pussy, let me feel you come apart.”

“Chris, oh god, yes!” I cry out, my nails digging into his wrist as he drives his fingers deeper, faster into my throbbing pussy. “Don't stop, please don't stop!”

Chris's fingers curl inside me, hitting that secret spot that makes stars explode behind my eyelids. My hips buck wildly, grinding against his hand as my orgasm crashes over me in waves. “Cum for me, Ma, cum all over my fingers!”

My walls clench around Chris's fingers, pulsing as I ride out the aftershocks of my climax. I collapse back against the bed, panting, his hand still buried deep within me. Chris slowly withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips and sucking off my essence. “Delicious,”

I scramble off the counter, my legs still shaky from my orgasm. I spin Chris around and push him back against the counter, his chest heaving. “Your turn now,” I growl, tugging at his belt.

Chris's belt comes undone, clattering to the floor. I slowly unzip his jeans, revealing a hard, throbbing cock. I grip it in my hand, stroking slowly, teasing him with my fingers. “Fuck, Y/N,” he moans.

I look up at Chris, our eyes locking, and he groans at the raw desire in my gaze. I sink to my knees, never breaking eye contact as I guide his cock to my lips. I take him into my mouth, savoring the taste of him on my tongue.

I take him deep, feeling him hit the back of my throat. Chris's hips twitch, his fingers tangling in my hair. “Fuck, Ma...” I bob my head, sucking him harder, swirling my tongue around his shaft.

Chris's breathing becomes ragged as I continue to pleasure him. He lets out a low groan, his grip on my hair tightening. “I'm gonna fucking cum if you don't stop, Ma...” I ignore his warning, sucking harder, ready for him to release everything he has.

Chris's cock pulses in my mouth as he comes hard, spilling his hot seed down my throat. I swallow every drop, milking him for all he's worth. He collapses against the counter, panting heavily, while I sit back on my heels, a satisfied smile on my face.

Chris pulls me up to the counter, my legs wrapping around his waist. He positions himself at my entrance, gazing into my eyes, full of raw desire. He thrusts in slowly, stretching me to my limits. “Shit” he groans, his head falling to my shoulder.

My breath hitches as I take in his size. He is definitely bigger than any other man I have ever been with. Each movement he makes sends a shockwave of pleasure through my body. I wrap my legs tighter around him, wanting to take him in deeper. “Fuck, Chris...”

Chris starts moving faster, his hips slapping against mine. “You feel so fucking tight, Ma,” he growls, his voice low and husky. I moan, my nails digging into his biceps as he pounds into me. The counter creaks beneath us, the sound echoing through the bathroom.

Chris pistons in and out of me, each thrust sending jolts of electricity through my body. “You like that, Baby? You like my big dick in your tight little cunt?” he grunts, his dirty talk only heightening my arousal.

Chris's thrusts become more erratic as he nears his climax. “Gonna fill you up, Ma,” he pants, his eyes dark with lust. “Gonna pump you so full of cum, you'll be dripping for days.” I whimper at his words, feeling the pressure building inside me.

“Yes, yes! Harder, Chris!” I moan, my voice barely above a whisper. Chris complies, his thrusts becoming faster and more intense. The room is filled with the sound of our panting breaths and the slapping of skin on skin.

Without hesitation, Chris pulls out and takes hold of my hips, spinning me around and bending me over the bathroom counter. He enters me again from behind, his thrusts becoming more forceful as he grips my hips tightly. I look at him through the mirror, his eyes dark and full of desire.

Chris pounds into me relentlessly, his pace unrelenting. “Oh, shit” he grunts, his voice strained with pleasure. “Do you love it when my cock is splitting you open?” I moan, my hands braced against the counter as he takes me harder.

Chris reaches for his phone, quickly starting the video recording. Chris's movements become more urgent as he records our intimate moment through the mirror. He leans down, his hot breath on my neck as he whispers dirty promises. “You're such a dirty slut. Getting fucked so hard in the bathroom, all for my eyes only.”

The sound of our wet bodies slapping together fills the room as Chris continues to take me from behind. “You like me fucking you like this, Ma?” He taunts as he films us in the mirror. “Like being my little cumslut?”

Chris grips my hair tightly in his hand, pulling my head back so I'm forced to look at him in the mirror. “Look at me while I fuck you, slut.” He growls, his thrusts becoming even rougher as he continues to record us.

Chris's hand tightens in my hair, yanking my head back further as he speaks into my ear. “You love it when other guys touch your body, don't you? Love feeling their hands all over you, making you feel good.” He thrusts harder, hitting a particularly sensitive spot inside me.

“Only I can make you feel this good, baby.” Chris growls. “Only I can fuck you this hard, make your pretty little pussy sore for days.” He's relentless in his dirty talk, driving me wild as he continues to take me from behind.

“God, you look so fucking hot like this, Ma.” Chris pants as he continues to fuck me, the wet sound of our bodies slapping together echoing in the bathroom. “You're mine, all mine, and I'm going to prove it every single day.”

As Chris's thrusts become more forceful, I see stars behind my eyes. My moans escalate into high-pitched whimpers of pleasure. “Oh god, oh god, oh god!” I chant, my body trembling as he hits that spot inside me again and again.

I can barely form coherent sentences as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me. “Y-yes, yes, yes!” I gasp, my eyes rolling back as Chris continues to ravage my body. “You-you're making me…I'm going to…!”

I don't get a chance to finish my thought before Chris's fingers find my clit, rubbing in slow circles as he continues to fuck me. That's all it takes for me to shatter into a million pieces, stars bursting behind my eyelids as I scream his name.

“CHRIS!” I collapse against the sink, gasping for air as the aftershocks of my orgasm wrack my body. Chris's hot breath is against my neck, his fingers still pressed against my sensitive clit. “Look at you,” he whispers, “completely undone for me.”

Chris pulls out, his cum splattering across my ass and thighs as he comes. He steps back, a cocky grin spreading across his face as he looks at the video on his phone. “That's a wrap, Ma. You were perfect.”

Chris gently cleans me up toilet paper, his eyes softening as he looks at me. He holds me close, kissing me deeply. “You okay, Ma? I didn't hurt you, did I?” he murmurs, concern etched onto every line of his face.

I smile and nod, wrapping my arms around his neck. “No, I'm okay,” I reassure him. “That was amazing and you were amazing and now my legs are jelly but other than that I'm good.” I kiss him again before pulling away and smirking

“Didn't know you were that big though,” I say, giving him a teasing look. Chris raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You didn't think I had it in me, hm?”

I chuckle, shaking my head as I lean into Chris. “I mean, I knew you were hung, but damn. That was a surprise.” I nuzzle his neck, enjoying the closeness after our intense encounter. “You really know how to make a girl feel full.”

Chris laughs, his chest rumbling beneath my ear. “What, so you thought about my dick size before, huh?” he says, a smug note of satisfaction in her voice. I pull away from him and raise an eyebrow, a sly smile playing at the corner of my lips.

“I mean, all those times you caught me staring while I was sitting on your bed right after you got out of the shower was for nothing, right?” I tease, giving him a playful wink. Chris's eyes widen in mock shock before he throws his head back and laughs.

Chris leans in and captures my lips in a slow, savoring kiss. I melt against him, my hands trailing over his chest while he deepens the kiss.

He pulls back from the kiss, his thumb brushing over my lower lip in a gentle caress. His eyes are dark with desire, but there's a satisfied gleam there as well, like a lion who just had his fill of prey. “We should head back to the party,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “Nick's probably lookin' for us.”

I nod mutely, still trying to catch my breath and compose myself after that kiss. Chris steps back, a smirk playing on his lips as he takes in the sight of me, flushed and disheveled. He offers his hand to me, a silent invitation to follow him back out to the party.

We exit the bathroom, the hum of the party music hitting us like a wave of noise after the quiet seclusion of the bathroom. Chris keeps my hand in his as we make our way through the crowd, back towards where we were sitting. When we reach the group, we find Nick and Tara having a conversation, both looking up at our return.

Nick grins at us, his eyes flickering between Chris's grasp on my hand and my flushed appearance. “There you are,” he says . “We were starting to think you two had vanished into thin air.”

Chris raises his voice above the music, a casual tone to his words. “Yeah, we were just grabbing some drinks and then Y/N needed some air, so we stepped outside for a bit.” He flashes a charming smile, his hand still casually holding mine, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

Nick nods, buying the lie, and continues his conversation with Tara, seemingly not giving it a second thought. Chris gives my hand a slight squeeze, a subtle reassurance that our secret is still safe.

I glance around to make sure nobody is looking, then discreetly take my phone out of my purse, hiding it from Chris's view. I quickly send a text to Tara:

“Yeah, I think I might have to reconsider my answer to that question you asked earlier…”

Authors note: this took forever!! but thank you for 200 followers!! this story wouldn’t have been possible without @st6rify’s brain!! she thought of it and i made it become reality!

hope you all enjoyed it thank you once again! super grateful for each one of you! i love you and you’re appreciated!!

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 (⭑.ᐟ) — @st6rify @lovekaiya @b2cute

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #smut #cyberl6ve

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boyfhee · 6 months

Text

이희승 、DINE AT HOME

featuring ⋆ bf!heeseung, established relationship

warnings ⋆ satirical mentions of dying, suggestive undertones maybe but nothing too serious he's just flirting >//< , a lil bit of kissing ( 0.8k )

notes ⋆ for @isoobie i luv u bae & i hope u like this. pls excuse any typos i wrote it directly on blr ><

“it’s been fifteen minutes,” heeseung sighs, arms crossed as he walks into your room. “you said you’d be done in t—” a pause, his mouth hanging open as he stares at you, eyes raking all over you, top to bottom, taking in all of you.

“sorry, i was a bit unsure about the dress,” you say while still looking at your reflection in the mirror, twirling a little to the side while examining your dress, or rather how it looks on you. “do you like it?”

nothing comes out of his mouth for a good minute.

heeseung traces your features with his gaze, how well the dress fits you and compliments you. you’re waiting for a response and he’s standing speechlessly, gulping ever so slightly before looking at you in disbelief. “are you trying to kill me?”

“why on earth would i try to kill you?” you frown at his words, turning away from the mirror to look at him.

“by wearing that dress, you definitely are,” and you automatically back against the dressing table when he walks towards you with a scoff, hands instinctively resting on his chest while his arms rest on the table on either side, caging you in between. “and you have the audacity to say you’re unsure,”

“do i look that good?” you ask, lips curling up in a smile. he knows you’re fishing for a compliment— which you don’t have to. he’s always down to shower you in praise, it comes naturally to him.

“you look that good,” and he responds with another smile, fingers playing with the pendant of your rose gold necklace. “so good, it makes me want to kiss you,” he breathes, burying his face in your neck, inhaling deeply and planting a soft kiss, “like here,” with his lips trailing down to your collarbones as he mumbles between words. “and here,” he looks up at your lips, pecking them sweetly. “everywhere,”

you giggle, definitely appreciating his words as you get lost in his sweet and tender kisses. “we’re going to be late,”

and suddenly, heeseung doesn’t mind being late for the dinner reservations anymore.

“i’m thinking we have dinner at home,” he wraps one hand around your waist while the other fiddles with your earring. with the smirk dancing on his face, you know dinner is just an excuse. “just you and me,”

“and food?” you chuckle at his words, knowing the very reason you two made the dinner reservations was your empty fridge and the lack of willingness in both of you to go buy grocery this evening.

his lips press into a thin line as he pretends to think, tilting his head to the side while the eyes stay focused on you. he snickers, humming thoughtfully. “food is. . .not that necessary, if you ask me,”

you know exactly what he’s trying to say. the way he’s talking while his eyes are lingering all over you as if undressing you with his eyes, worshipping every single part of you. it’s beyond his understanding how you manage to look good in everything. he might have to take you shopping more often if this is what he’s in for.

“you’re acting up,” you poke his cheeks, squinting your eyes at him, pretending to be annoyed.

“your fault, angel,” and he swiftly shifts the blame to you, both his hands on your waist now, caressing and drawing random patterns over the cloth.

“so, it’s my fault now?”

“yeah, you chose to wear this dress knowing absolutely well how much i love it on you,” he nods with a pout, trying to look innocent as if you’re the bad one here for having him wrapped around your fingers. “and now you’re driving me crazy so you don’t get to complain,”

you laugh— heeseung never really fails to amuse with his words. it’s interesting to see how his mind works. not the first time he’s blaming you for making him ‘act up’ and definitely not the last. you would argue it’s just another dress, but heeseung would say otherwise. it’s the dress made for you, and you— made only for him.

the clock on the wall behind him manages to pull you out of your thoughts. you two were supposed to leave fifteen minutes ago. you gently push him away, although his grip around your waist tightens, refusing to let you go. “okay, i won’t. now can we leave?”

he looks as if contemplating something, still not letting you go. “how about i steal a kiss first?” he suggests with a click of his tongue, the smirk climbing its way back to his lips.

“how about no?” you tease, removing his hands from your waist.

“too bad,” and he tilts your chin up with his finger, backing you against the table once again, pressing himself against you. he leans in with a scoff, brushing his lips against yours. “i’m going to do it anyway,”

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moonydustx · 6 months

Note

Could you write a short fic on the reader spoiling law. Like they just wake up next to him and decide that it’s Law day 💗💗 pleaseee and thank you😭🫶

Hi hi dear anonymous! It took me a while to respond, I know, but time has been flying here. I loved your idea, I don't think Law would know how to deal with being pampered, but he would love the feeling. Like “do I really deserve this?” Maybe it ended up being longer than expected. Well, I tried my best, I really hope you like it!

Feeling loved

Trafalgar Law X F!Reader Warnings: Just a cute, adorable couple, Law being spoiled all day. F!Reader is the cook of the bunch. Summary: The tranquility on Law's face as he slept was your favorite sight. You wished, at least one day in this pirate life that you led, that he could have that expression on his face all day.

requests | one piece masterlist

Locks of dark hair tickled your skin, while the perfume that naturally emanated from Law invaded your sense of smell. You didn't know how you managed to sleep like that, legs tangled together, his arm keeping you pressed against his body, your face buried in the back of his head. For anyone looking from the outside, it would be difficult to know where one began and the other ended, but it was your favorite place in the whole world.

You stood up a little, gently trying to untangle yourself from your boyfriend. Despite his grumbling and Law trying to pull you back to bed a few times, you managed to sit down delicately. He was still sleeping - and even a light snore came from his lips. Even with his mouth half-open and his arms in disarray, Law seemed serene, immersed in a tranquility that was not common in the days of Polar Tang, much less for the submarine captain.

He deserved a whole life with this tranquility, but you knew that the life they led prevented that. At least today you would try your best to do that for him.

Taking slow steps knowing that any louder noise would wake him up, you walked out towards the kitchen. It was still early for the others to be up and even so, you knew it wouldn't take long to gain the company of the person you most wanted to spoil that day. By hurrying and avoiding dropping pans in the process, you started to design the first step towards the perfect day. Setting aside a large tray, it didn't take long for it to be filled with small portions of Law's favorite foods: onigiri, omelettes, coffee, and even some sweet jelly. Already moving forward with the lunch menu, you left his favorite fish ready to be grilled later.

Trying to balance the tray in your hands and fearing that you would be late, you used as much speed as you could until you reached the room, taking advantage of the fact that you bumped into Ikkaku to inform her of the short absence that you and the captain would have in the morning. When you open the bedroom door, you find Law already standing, looking for a t-shirt to wear.

"Good morning Captain." you practically hummed, closing the door behind you.

"Good morning my love." He passed the collar of his t-shirt over his face, finally being able to see you. "Wow, what's all this?"

"Just a treat." you walked closer and your hand gently guided him back to bed. "Although someone decided to wake up before I arrived."

"You don't have to worry about that, I can continue here." he adjusted himself on the pillows, a mischievous smile appeared on his lips. "As long as you stay too."

"You're in charge, captain."

Adjusting yourself on the bed, you sat next to him and let the tray remain divided between your legs and his. Your lips quickly found his cheeks and when he turned to return the gesture, you took a piece of the rice ball to him, which he readily accepted with a hum.

"What did I do to deserve this?"

"I believe my captain deserves special treatment every now and then." You shrugged and he returned the gesture by putting a piece of food in your mouth. "Hey, this food is for you!"

"And that's exactly why we're going to split."

Part of the morning passed like this, the two of you entangled again, this time lost between stolen kisses and pieces of the banquet given to each other, as if completing each gesture. Placing the tray aside, Law snuggled you against his body, wasting a good few minutes there, stealing the taste of your lip, letting his hands spread across your skin. There was no malice in the contact, it was just as if your skin were a magnet that was difficult to resist. It didn't take long for you to end up the same way you had woken up, but this time it was Law who was stuck in the back of your neck.

"Babe…" he called, the low and almost hoarse voice sent goose bumps across your skin. "We need to get out of bed."

"Not today."

"Not today?" he repeated, in a provocative tone. "It's an irresistible proposition."

"Then don't resist." you gently pulled his face away, placing a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose. "I promise it will be worth it."

"I know it will, but unfortunately I have some things to sort out."

"What do you think about a shower first?" you proposed and saw his face light up. You knew your boyfriend well and knew what he was about to suggest. "No, not that kind of shower. Let's go."

You pulled him out of bed and even though he mumbled that he would rather turn the shower into something else, you asked him to leave that idea for later. Preferably when the entire sub was quieter and couldn't disturb them. Law entered the bathtub first and you had to contain the light laugh that insisted on leaving your lips when you caught his eyes following your movements. Law didn't hide when he saw your clothes hit the ground, not even when you approached him. He adjusted himself in the tub, ready to make room for you to fit in front of him and was surprised to see you swing your legs behind him and sit behind his body.

"What are you doing?" he turned his face over his shoulder, smiling when he felt your lips kiss his back.

"Just let me take care of you." your nails slid down Law's back lightly, you knew every part of his body and knew the shivers that gave him.

That gesture was the most mischievous thing about your little shower. Your hands preferred to be busy massaging his tense shoulders and even though you had much less strength than the man, you could almost hear him purring when you squeezed harder. The moan of satisfaction escaped his lips as he practically melted into your hands as he felt your fingers massage through the dark strands of his hair, washing the short locks.

The shower took longer than usual, just because you couldn't detach your body from him. Your hands were already wrinkled from contact with the water when you left the bathtub behind. Seeing Law finish getting dressed, you knew there was no way to stop him from working that day, at least you had managed to hijack part of his morning.

"Did you know you make it even harder for me to leave this room?" he grumbled when he saw you pout. "That's a low blow, you look really cute like that."

"Polar Tang won't sink if it's away from your supervision for a day." you retorted and found him irreducible. The only way out at the moment was to accept. You stood on your toes and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. "Until later."

"See you later…" he walked to the door and turned around before leaving. "My door will be open if you want to visit."

"You're getting spoiled Trafalgar."

"Blame my girlfriend." he replied, leaving you alone with your laughter.

Returning to the kitchen, you took advantage of the presence of the others to make small talk, thinking about what would be your next move for Law's perfect day. Preparing lunch, you remembered the small gift you had bought for his birthday and with date is still far away, you could find a replacement and take advantage of today to surprise him.

"Guys, what did the captain do to her?" Penguin commented when he saw you again arranging a tray with some salads, grilled fish and a glass of juice. You knew that having missed part of the morning, Law was unlikely to stop work for lunch and this was the perfect opportunity to meet him again.

"I know. They definitely had a quickie early on." Shachi patted your back and you raised the knife that was arranging the food toward him. "Ouch, I'm kidding."

"Tell us, what was the tea?" Ikkaku said in a suggestive tone.

"I'm going to pretend I don't hear any of you three." you replied, adjusting the tray.

"But what's happening today with the captain, I barely saw him." Bepo butted in.

"You four."

Hearing your friends' complaints, you went to the room where Law was. All it took was a few knocks on the door and you heard a "come in" coming from inside. The smile that crossed Law's lips was reward enough for the day's efforts. Instead of standing up, Law gave you space to sit on his lap, wrapping his hands around your waist.

"This dish is so beautiful, send my thanks to the kitchen." He placed a few kisses on your shoulder. "I don't think I've ever eaten as well as I did today."

"That offends this crew's cook." he laughed, stealing a piece of fish from the plate. "After you eat, I left a surprise on your bed."

"Does this involve dessert?" his voice dropped a few decibels, making you laugh. You didn't know that your boyfriend - when relaxed - could be a potential pervert.

"No, that's only later." you moved your hips against his body, just to tease him. "Now I'm the one who needs to get back to work." You placed a quick kiss on him and left him alone.

Before returning to your tasks - which had been piling up since the morning - you went to his room to take the gift out of hiding. A rare and limited edition Sora collectible sticker album, along with most of the stickers. You had spent a good part of your monetary reserve on that, but it would be worth it.

The afternoon passed quickly as you finished all your pending tasks, it wasn't because you maintained a relationship with the captain that he and the other crew members would take it easy on you, this included fulfilling your responsibilities. When you returned to Law's little hideout - aka his room - you wished you'd had the chance to frame the scene that was playing out. Law was sitting on the floor, the album open and several stickers spread out along with some action-figures. He seemed to compare one of the ninjas whose names you couldn't remember with one of the shiny stickers.

"Looks like someone liked the gift." Your voice broke him out of his trance and before you continued, Law stood up and took your feet off the ground by hugging you tightly.

"This is the best gift I've ever gotten. Where did you get all this?" He pulled you onto the bed. "That one is super rare, I remember when me, Shachi and Penguin saw it the first time and tried to steal it from the boy…" he realized through your laughter that he had let his nerdy side escape. "You are incredible."

"Don't overdo it my babe."

"Today I felt so good." he pulled you so that your legs circled his waist, his hands automatically attaching themselves to your waist. "You make me feel so comfortable. I-I felt… You know what, never mind." He pushed the thoughts away with a smile on his lips and you noticed for the first time that that gesture was almost uncontrollable at the moment. Genuine happiness crossed Law's face.

"My beautiful boy, you know you can tell me."

"I felt loved." he confessed, warning you against his arms and stealing a quick kiss from you. "I feel loved every day by your side, but today was worth even for the bad days."

"I hope more days of your life are like this." You said, stroking the small hairs that littered his face.

"Of our lives."

"You'll end up spoiled." a small scream escaped your lips as he turned you over on the bed.

"Spoiled by you? Doesn't seem like a bad thing to me." he fit between your legs and you could feel him press down on you. "And if I remember correctly, I still have something more to gain."

#fiction #reader insert #one piece #no use of y/n #requests open #trafalgar law #law x reader #law x you #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #requested

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lizzieolseniskinda · 17 days

Text

LOGAN HOWLETT - all too well

x FEM!reader (POC!friendly)

REQUEST (requests open)

SUMMARY: you & logan were a thing, but in the end it all fell down

WORD COUNT: 3462 (excl. song lyrics)

GENRE: angsty

CONTENT WARNING: english is not my first language, lowercase ahead, this is my third story soooo..., ik ppl say that the scarf is a metaphor, but here it's just a scarf <3

italics is a flashback <3

NOT PROOFREAD

listen to 'all too well' (five minute version) from taylor swift for better experience <3.

‘i walked through the door with you

the air was cold

but something about it felt like home somehow

and i, left my scarf there at your sister's house

and you've still got it in your drawer even now'

the autumn cold bit at my cheeks as i stepped out of the car. i looked at the mansion before me, the x-mansion. the winter cold bit at my cheeks when i got out of the car to take out my bags. i walked towards the tall doors where logan was standing. he took my bags as i walked through the doors. the old wood creaked slightly under our weight.

almost immediately i felt the warmth of the school. i took off my scarf with my gloves and jacket, it smelt like hot chocolate in here. reminding me of the times i used to spend christmas with my parents waiting on my chocolate milk my mom used to make.

professor x welcomed me with a charming smile. his school was spacious yet cozy, every nook and wall filled with complementing wooden furniture. i placed my bags by the stairs as charles led us into the living area. the room smelled even more of cinnamon and chocolate.

time flew by in that living room, sounds of loud laughter and chatting filled the whole massion. it was times like these i appreciated the most. students came wandering inside and outside, either sitting with us for a while or getting some snacks for their small gathering. charles told me that it wasn't always he let teens walk freely after curfew, but when it's the day before Christmas, who is he to say no to them?

i leaned my head against logan's shoulder, my stomach feeling content and full after consuming one too many sweets and chocolates. he placed a hand on my leg and asked if i wanted to go upstairs to rest , and i nodded in reply and we excused ourselves. teens were scattered around the hallways as the both of us walked towards my bags.

we reached the top of the staircase, and logan led me into his room. once we reached his room, we sat on his bed, and i opened my bag. i fished out my pajamas and turned around to change. after completely changing, logan appeared behind me, wrapping his arms around me and placing soft, gentle kisses on my shoulder.

'oh, your sweet disposition

and my wide-eyed gaze

we're singing in the car, getting lost upstate

autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place

and i can picture it after all these days'

the trees blurred by as logan sped down the twisting country roads, the wold a swirl of amber, gold, and russet tones. my window was down, letting the crisp autumn air rush in, my hair was in braids so that no small strands would fly in my face. logan was driving with one hand on the wheel, the other tapping along to the rhythm of the music. i wasn't even sure if he knew where we were headed; we'd veered off course miles back, but neither of us seemed to mind.

"do you even know where we are?" i asked with a grin, my voice raised over the music.

he glanced over at me, his eyes had a sparkle i hadn't seen in so long, but had become so used to. "not a clue, but does it really matter?" he replied with a light hearted laugh.

i shook my head, it didn't. nothing mattered in that moment except the rush of the open road and the way we were singing along to the songs. his hoarse but sweet, wild but calm voice carried the melody effortlessly, even when my voice faltered.

leaves were spiralling down in slow, soothing cascades, covering the road in a blanket of color.

we didn't talk much during that drive, just let the music carry us further, winding through the countryside as if we could do this forever and never run out of road or gas. i could still picture that moment now, after all this time - the way he hummed along, the way the leaves fell like pieces of a story we didn't fully understand yet. but thinking back, it didn't matter, it used to feel right.

'and i know it's long gone and that magic's not here no more

and i might be okay but I'm not fine at all'

it had been months since i had last seen him. people assure me that time heals, that i'll be okay eventually, and maybe i will be. every day is the same; i get up, go to work, laugh when expected, smile when someone asks about my well-being. but it's the quiet moments of silence that the reality intrudes, like a wave crashing down upon me.

the happy feeling that once filled this place - has vanished, vanished for a while now. yet, there are moments, brief fragments of days, when i can still feel it - like a phantom limb. i find myself searching for you in a crowded place, then the realization dawns on me - he's not here anymore. and there's a big chance he won't be coming back to me.

'cause there we are again on that little town street

you almost ran the red 'cause you were lookin' over at me

wind in my hair, i was there

i remember it all too well'

it was a late afternoon, and the sun hung low in the sky, casting everything in a tender, golden light. the small town we'd stumbled upon felt like a picture-perfect scene from a postcard - quiet streets lined with old brick buildings, trees bending overhead, their leaves tinged with the fading colors of autumn. we had been driving for hours, with no real destination in mind, again.

he was driving with one hand resting casually on the wheel. his gaze would flick between the road and me. every time his eyes met mine, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and i couldn't help but smile back, even though i tried act like i didn't notice. the windows were down, allowing the wind to dance through his hair.

the car slowed as we came up to a small intersection, the kind that didn't seem to need stoplights because the whole town was quiet - almost no cars to be seen. a red light was hanging above the street. it was as if his foot hesitated on the brake as his gaze lingered on me for just a second too long. i stretched out my arm towards his face, and redirected his gaze. the way he looked at me, almost took my breath away. the way he looked at me like there was no one else in the world, made me wonder what went wrong.

"you almost ran it, logan," i scolded him, half-laughing, as the car jolted to a stop just in time.

he chuckled lightheartedly in response, his voice carrying a sound that i cherished so much. "my bad, bub." his eyes twinkled in the red light.

i rolled my eyes, my heartbeat quickened, and i couldn't help the warmth that spread through me. the traffic signal changed to green, and he drove through the intersection. the town went by in slow motion, passing an old diner, a corner bookstore, and a nearby park where a few kids were running through the puddles and leaves, their laughter echoing slightly down the streets.

'photo album on the counter

your cheeks were turning red

you used to be a little kid with glasses in a twin-sized bed

and your mother's telling stories 'bout you on the tee-ball team

you told me 'bout your past thinking your future was me'

a photo album was lying between us, logan was seated next to me in my classroom. i was trying to ignore how my past was so different from his, i had a better childhood than most of people here. logan's memories were scattered, and most of them too painful to keep.

logan let out a breath, "i don't have much to show from my past." his voice was low, there was a certain tension in the room, but not a negative one. "i don't have any pictures, or any family stories."

unconsciously, i started leaning in, he never liked to talk about his past. he kept it buried most of the time, but it felt different this time. his gaze flicked to the photo album for a moment, then back to me.

"i wasn't born as logan," he started, his jaw was clenching as he closed his mouth. "my real name was james howlett, back in the 1800s," he explained. i tried not to gasp, my boyfriend was almost 200 years old. "i grew up in canada, in a rich family. my father wasn't really my father, though," his voice dropped a bit. "i was just a kid when it happened. my actual father showed up, and it got violent, i killed him," he looked at me. "i didn't mean to, but after all that happened, i didn't know what to do. i was so lost."

"i've fought wars, and then i ended up in an experiment from the government. they took away what little i had left, wiped my memories, turned me into a weapon. i was barely human." he clenched his fists, knuckles whitening. "i spent years to figure it out, but never got anywhere close."

logan looked up, his eyes meeting with mine. "i didn't think i had a future, not until you. i don't know if i can ever escape what i was,' logan whispered hoarsely. "but when i think of the future, it's not as dark as it used to be, not when you're in it."

i swallowed hard, the weight of what he was saying pressed down on me. he wasn't talking about the past anymore - he was offering a piece of himself, a fragile piece.

'and i know it's long gone and there was nothing else I could do

and i forget about you long enough to forget why I needed to'

the mansion was buzzing with students talking and wandering around. i stood outside jean's classroom, watching through the gap of the door as he spoke with her. jean. the way he softened his voice when he talked to her, the way he stood just a little bit closer, like he was pulled towards her without even realizing it.

he used to look at me like that.

but it felt as if he was miles away, even though i was only a few steps from him. by now i should've gotten used to it, the way he kept slipping through my fingers, always just out of reach. but everytime it hit harder, that feeling of being so close and yet so far.

i knew that when i was with him, it was something real. we had something real. the late night talkes, our laughter echoing the hallways of the mansion. the way he used to look at me, with that glimmer in his eyes that made me believe we were something bigger. but then he got to know everyone better, and so she came along. jean, with her fiery red hair and pretty face, and suddenly, i wasn't enough for him.

'cause there we are again in the middle of the night

we're dancing 'round the kitchen in the refrigerator light

down the stairs, i was there

i remember it all too well, yeah'

it was quite late - well past midnight - the mansion was quiet. the only light came from the soft, yellow glow of the refrigerator door we'd left open, casting shadows that extended across the kitchen floor and island. i couldn't remember what had brought us down there in the first place. perhaps it was his restless energy, or maybe it was mine. we found ourselves standing in the refrigerator light, laughing over some long-forgotten jest, our bare feet resting against the cool tiles.

he was leaning against the counter, arm crossed, a crooked smile on his face, gracing his features. it was a rare thing, that smile - so much gentler than the stern and hardened expression he typically wore in public.

out of the blue, he grabbed my hand and pulled me towards him, catching me off guard. i smiled softly, stumbling slightly into his chest as he started to spin me around. "what are you doing?" i asked, words bubbling out with a grin i couldn't keep off my face.

"dancin'," he smirked, his voice low and gravelly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

we swayed in the soft light, the gentle hum of the refrigerator the only sound in the room. our feet were moving in perfect sync with each other, our footsteps barely audible against the smooth surface of the kitchen floor. the world outside didn't matter in moments like these, it was just us, lost in something that felt so small yet so infinite at the same time.

'and maybe we got lost in translation

maybe i asked for too much

But maybe this thing was a masterpiece 'til you tore it all up

Running scared, I was there

I remember it all too well'

the moonlight streamed through the large windows in the hallway, casting long, eerie shadows that danced menacingly across the floor. the tension between logan and i had been building up for weeks, months even.

after what felt like an eternity, he finally walked in. his face was hard, guarded, a familiar look he always wore when he didn't want to deal with something. i could feel anger rising in my chest, yet underneath it all, there was another feeling, raw and painful.

"what's going on between you and jean?" my voice sharper than i meant it to be. he stopped in his tracks, eyebrows knitting together. "what're you talkin' about?" he said, his tone flat, evasive.

i sighed and pinched my nose, "you know what i'm talking about logan." he shook his head, denying everything i was saying.

"i see the way you look at her. like she's the only person in the room, the world even."

his fists clenched at his side, but he stayed silent. that only made it worse, made the hurt cut deeper. i could feel the tears threatening to fall down any minute, but i swallowed them down, refusing to show how much it hurt.

"maybe it was stupid to think we could ever be something more, that we might've had a chance. but, logan, whatever we had - it was real, good," my voice wavered. "you ruined it."

logan's eyes flicked to the floor, his jaw tight. "i didn't mean for it to happen like this, it's just you and me, remember?" he muttered, his voice was low, as if he was struggling to find the right words. "jean...she.. it's complicated, i didn't-"

"didn't what?" i interrupted, stepping closer towards him. "didn't mean to get lost in her? didn't mean to make me feel like i was never enough? ignoring me, the moment she stepped in the room?" i scoffed.

"i was there for you. i was there when you told me everything, when you let me in, and now you're throwing it all away for someone who doesn't even see you the way i do. she's with scott, logan!"

his eyes finally met mine, and for a split second, i though i saw something - a hint of regret, of the man i knew. but then his walls came back up, and he stepped away, creating a distance once again.

"i didn't tear it apart!" he growled, frustration simmering beneath his words. "it's not that simple."

"but it is," i whispered, my voice barely audible now. "it was simple, logan. you just don't want to see it."

once again, we stood there, inches apart but worlds away from each other. silence becoming suffocating, with all the thing that were said and unsaid, all the pieces of us that had shattered somewhere along the way. i wanted to reach out, but i couldn't, he was already gone.

'and you call me up again just to break me like a promise

so casually cruel in the name of being honest

i'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here

'cause i remember it all, all, all

too well'

it was cold and raining when i heard the phone ring - of course it was. the kind of rain that soaked through your clothes and settled deep into your skin. i sat on the edge of my couch, staring at the phone that hung on my wall, ringing. my stomach twisted in a familiar, painful knot. i knew that answering the phone would only hurt me even more, but i became so addicted to his voice, i couldn't stay away.

"logan," i said, keeping my voice firm and steady.

there was a pause on logan's end, i could hear his breath, heavy and uneven. my heart pounded in my chest, a small flicker of hope sparking against my better judgement.

“I wanted to talk,” logan said, his voice rough, strained. “About everything.” i let out a breath i was holding, letting his words sink in and physically melt from the sound of his voice.

my spine straightened, and that flicker of hope i'd been foolish enough to feel quickly died. a rustling sound came through from the other end. scott's voice came through the line, clear and hard.

"you need to stay away from jean," scott said without preamble, his tony cold. i shook my head, i did not need to hear this. this just made me question the fact that logan was still spending time with jean even more.

"she's not yours to run to whenever you feel like messing with someone's head, you've done enough damage."

i sighed, gripping the telephone tighter. i could hear logan protesting, but scott barely gave him a chance to talk. "and while you're at it, stay away from her too." scott's words hit like a slap to logan's face. "wh-"

"you know exactly who i'm talking about. you keep calling her, stringing her along whenever you can't figure out what you want, and i'm done watching from the sidelines. you don't get to hurt her anymore. so if you know what's good for you, you'll leave her alone," scott's voice was scarily calm.

i swallowed hard, i felt like i shouldn't be listening to this. scott's voice dropped lower, "and if you ever cared about her - about either of them - you won't call her again. don't show up. don't send a message. just let her be, logan." there was a long pause, and for a moment, i thought he'd hung up. "because if you keep calling her just to break her all over again, i'll make sure you never get the chance to do it again." i was surprised scott would talk for me like that. i never was really close with him.

"give me the phone, logan," and the line went dead.

i stood there, phone in my hand, i wanted to scream, cry, throw something, maybe even throw up. but i didn't, i just hung up the phone again and walked away.

'time won't fly, it's like i'm paralyzed by it,

i'd like to be my old self again.

but I'm still trying to find it.

after plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own.

now you mail back my things and i walk home alone,

but you keep my old scarf from that very first week.

'cause it reminds you of innocence,

and it smells like me.

you can't get rid of it,

'cause you remember it all too well, yeah'

it was a week that seemed to stretch on forever, time moving as slow as it could. i stood in my small home, staring at the box storm brought me that came from logan. it sat on the kitchen table. i already knew the contents of the box, my things, probably stuff i gave logan as well that he wouldn't want to keep anymore.

i opened the box, a couple of shirts, an old book i'd left in his room, little reminders of the nights we'd spend together. at the bottom of the box i found the scarf i'd wore when i first came to the mansion.

i held it up close, the soft fabric taking me back to that one autumn two years ago. back when it felt like we had all the time in the world.

but time made it so hard to forget. i'd tried so hard to go back to the person i used to be, before i met him - to the person who didn't get so wrapped up in boys.

'cause there we are again when i loved you so,

back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known.

it was rare, i was there, i remember it all too well.'

i remember it was a lazy summer afternoon when the air was thick with warmth and the world felt content. we were lying on the grass near the lake behind the mansion, the sun casted a golden light.

logan has his arms crossed behind his head, staring up at the sky, while i laid next to him, tracing invisible shapes in the clouds with my mind. i turned my head towards him.

"so, what do you want to do this summer?" i said with a small smile, my fingers playing with the blanket we put down on the grass. "what would you do if we could just... take off for a bit?"

logan tilted his head towards me, "summer?" he chuckled softly. "i don't really think that far ahead."

i nudged him with my elbow, "come on, logan. dream a little, where would you go?"

he sighed, glancing at the sky. "somewhere quiet," he said after a moment. "someplace where there's nothing but trees and mountains. no noise, no people."

i nodded in agreement. "i could get behind that idea, we could find a cabin somewhere, spend our days walking around or sitting by a fire at night."

"yeah," he mumbled. "maybe get off the grid for a while, forget about everything. i watched him, feeling the what the words settled between us like a promise.

“Yeah,” you agreed, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Maybe get off the grid for a while. Forget about everything.”

"i've never done that before," he said. "let myself think about things like that."

i looked over at him, "what do you mean?"

"something good," he replied, his gaze still fixed on the sky. "something that doesn't end in loss or running."

"you don't have to run anymore, logan," i said softly. "we could make those plans real. it would be just you and me."

he didn't respond right away, but i could see how his jaw clenched slightly. "it's just you and me," logan nodded.

i laid back down, my head resting against the grass. i closed my eyes, the warmth of the setting sun on my face.

'wind in my hair, you were there, you remember it all.

down the stairs, you were there, you remember it all.

it was rare, i was there, i remember it all too well.'

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bonny-kookoo · 9 months

Text

Jungkook

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐥 [Teaser]

In which Jungkook really only went to earth to take home his new pet- but ends up leaving with a lot more than that.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, Ocean theme, very wet planet, bioluminescence, sci-fi, Romance, strangers to lovers, God this ended up WAY softer and fluffier than I thought it would, Fluff, Kook is tall and buff but sometimes fails to realize that, a pet shark named Custard, another pet shark named Noodle, more TBA

Length: unknown yet, teaser is ~700 words

-> Masterlist

A/N: a silly idea I had because of fellow fish enthusiast @euphoricfilter

━━━━━━━━━━.~°🩵°~.━━━━━━━━━━━

“I’m pretty sure they’ll get along great.” Jungkook smiles. “Of course I’ll have to slowly familiarize the two- but Custard is very sweet, she’s just sometimes a bit moody.” He explains to you, who watches the other shark in the tank with him as he’s being fed by a caretaker.

“I heard they’re a.. popular pet.” You mention, and Jungkook nods.

“Yeah! I initially wanted a lemon shark first, but then things changed, and I got custard first.” He shrugs. “Which I think might have been a good thing, considering that lemon sharks are said to get jealous easily if not properly socialized. It’s easier to introduce them to an already established shark than have them first and get them comfortable with a new one.” The alien explains, watching his new pet swim around.

“You know a lot about them.” You say, and he chuckles a bit bashful.

“I uh- not really. I just.. wanted to know what I’d be getting myself into. A pet is a big responsibility. “ He explains to you, and you nod.

“I swam with lemon sharks before.” You mention. “they’re pretty cute, but.. a bit chaotic sometimes.” You giggle, remembering the time, and how overwhelmed you’d gotten as the sharks had began playfully fighting over attention of you and the other divers.

“So you’re a good swimmer?” He asks curiously, standing next to you in front of the gigantic tank that holds his chosen pet inside, the young shark swimming around for now, while he’s being prepared for the newer conditions soon to become his permanent home.

“..decent.” You laugh a bit uneasy. “I.. nowhere near, you know, your skills.” You say, and he laughs.

“Oh that’s- like comparing clams with mussels. It’s not the same- just looks similar. Like us!” He shrugs off. “I think you’re under-selling yourself. And even if you’re not a good swimmer- I could teach you!” He offers, making you look up from where you stand near the glass.

"I'm just.. still a bit scared." You admit. "You know, after all that happened. I don't think I could just.. forget that and just.." you sigh, and he gently bumps your shoulder.

"Hey.. no one's asking you to." He tells you. "It just might be a good chance to face your fears? And I'll always be right at your side. I have an underwater license after all!" He proudly reminds you, and you can't help but laugh.

“You really seem like you really want me to visit your planet.” You tease, though he clearly doesn’t take it as a joke- nodding with almost cute enthusiasm.

“Of course! You said you always wanted to- so why not do it while visiting a friend?” He proposes. “it’s safer than just going alone. You could get lost, or even hurt.” He tells you. “and you’d miss out on.. you know, the spots only locals know.” Jungkook says, before he looks as Noodle swims closer again to inspect something floating around.

“I mean, you’re right..” you mumble, watching the shark move around. “…but I don’t know. I don’t think I could.. really.. I’m still just human.” You tell him, and he nods.

“I’m aware.” He responds. “and my planet has already made many adjustments to accommodate humans in many areas. You seem to forget that my kind has been.. mixing with humans for a long time by now. “ He chuckles. “means we had to evolve too, and change some of our architecture and stuff to adapt to those changes.” He says.

He’s right. And, in a way, he’s a living example of that change- with his honestly surprisingly human appearance, minus the height difference, and the hardly visible stripes of his skin.

“so, if you’d like, I’d happily house you for your vacation on my planet.” He grins. “and we can see just how well you swim.” He teases, leaning down a bit towards you before you both leave the large hall containing the tank for his new pet-

And you feel like this won’t just be a vacation at all, considering that he’s made it clear that he’s found interest in you past just simply being friends.

And in a way, you don’t mind that one bit.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook fanfic #alien jungkook #alien!jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines

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honeekyuu · 3 months

Text

take the edge off. [suna rintarou x f!reader] chapter two.

>>You struggle with your weight and body image, but Suna extensively and thoroughly undoes all the damage done by other guys.

You haven't gotten laid in over a year, and your best friend takes it upon himself to fix that for you.<<

series status: [complete]

previous. || masterlist. || next.

a/n: as it turns out, suna rintarou is just a TIIIIIINY bit obsessed with his best friend. just a little obsessed with her.

[feel free to buy me a cup of coffee!]

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

The ride back to Suna’s apartment passes in a daze. Where you’d been distracted by your dress on the way to the party, now you just cling to his torso and press the front of your helmet between his shoulders without a single care about anything else. He drives fast, red lights finding his hands reaching back so his fingers can wrap around your thighs and squeeze, not a word shared between you.

You just stare down at your lap, at the hands that roam your legs, blunt nails dragging on your skin with meaning. You shiver, thinking of whose hands they are.

What are you two doing? Is this okay?

You hadn’t wanted to sleep with Hinata at the risk of your friendship, but fucking your best friend is on the table?

You think of the way he’d grabbed you and handled you, the things he’d whispered in your ear, filthy and sweet at the same time. You think of how soiled your panties are right now, of what’s leaking out of you and staining them at this very moment.

Yes, fucking your best friend is certainly on the table.

Suna rolls up to his regular parking spot, dragging his foot along the ground as the motorcycle slows to a stop. You let him go, and he helps you off the bike, lifting your helmet and staring down at you, just like he had at the beginning of the night.

God, that feels like so long ago.

He swallows, brushing his fingers through your hair. “Still want this?” He whispers, eyeing you. “I can take you home instead.”

You look at him, gaze trailing over his eyes and lips, over his shoulders and chest and down to the arm that’s wrapped loosely around your waist, covered in ink. Mere hours ago, he’d just been Suna. Just a friend – your best friend. Just the same as Atsumu or Osamu.

You don’t think you could ever want Atsumu or Osamu the way you want Suna Rintarou right now.

“Yeah, I-” You breathe, meeting his green eyes, sharp in the moonlight. “-still want this.”

You watch those eyes darken in real time.

He turns, the hand on your waist tight, and pulls you toward the door to his building.

The elevator ride is slow and tortuous, and you watch him glance impatiently at the panel somewhere around the time you pass the fifth floor. Only three more, you think. Three more floors and short walk down the hall before you can kiss him again.

He steps toward you, throwing that entire plan in the trash.

With a hand that slips around the back of your neck, he drags you forward and pins his mouth to yours.

“ Mm- ” Your eyes are wide with surprise, but Suna just angles his head and pushes his lips fully against yours, his eyelashes dark and long against his cheeks.

You let your eyes drift closed and fist his shirt in your hands, clinging and pushing up onto your toes to kiss him right. He smiles against you, pulling away just as the ding of the elevator comes.

He leads you by the hand down the hall, fishing in his pocket roughly for his key. Throwing the door open, he guides you in before him and throws on the lights. You take a moment to look around his place, so familiar and safe, and realize you’re here under drastically different circumstances than normal. Suna spins you around before you can think too hard about that.

His mouth is hot on yours, and he’s pushing you by the hips through the living room, your shoes flying off at the door and your purse clattering to the floor somewhere near the couch. You pull away, halfway to his bedroom, and breathe hard while you tug at his t-shirt. He rips it off, and you undo his belt, the sound of the zipper far too familiar.

“C’mere-” He belts his arms around your middle and dips his head, knocking your hands away so he can kiss you. You feel the wall at your back and lean heavy against it, unstable on your feet and too busy carding your fingers through his hair to care. When he pushes his tongue across the seam of your mouth, you shiver, and he draws your bottom lip into his mouth, sucking and nipping at it.

You feel his fingers tugging on the zipper on your dress, and you pull away, eyes wide, a shock of nerves shaking you.

“We can leave it on, it’s fine,” You try, smiling nervously up at him.

He just lifts a brow and narrows his eyes at you. “You’re funny. Take it off.”

You laugh breathily, tugging lightly on his belt loops. “It’s okay, really-” You gasp, cut short by one of his hands gripping your face, fingers squeezing your cheeks together as he tilts your head back so he can look at you.

“Your choices here are you taking it off, or me taking it off,” He says, tilting his head. “I’m happy to be of assistance, but I’d rather you do it so I know that you’re comfortable.”

All the breath in your body leaves your lungs, and your eyes go wide, jaw slack. No one had ever spoken to you like that.

When he smiles down at you, it’s amused.

“Well?”

You blink rapidly, hands angling back toward the zipper of your dress all on their own.

“Look at you,” He coos, clicking his tongue teasingly. “You’re so sweet when you listen.”

The way he’s looking at you, so bemused that you would ever think he wouldn’t want you naked, draws a mix of embarrassment and arousal out of you. He moves his hand to cup your face and leans in, lips on yours while your dress falls to the floor. “ Thank you ,” He whispers into your mouth, and it warms your chest.

You’d listen to anything he says to get that praise out of him again.

Still, when he pulls away, you’re nervously crossing your arms over your chest, because the dress is strapless, so you aren’t wearing anything under.

Your head is clearer than it had been at the party, and you’re worried.

But when Suna’s eyes fall to your covered chest, you think you see them light up a bit.

“You’re not wearing a bra?”

“It’s a…” You nod down at the dress pooled around your feet. “It’s strapless.” You tighten your grip on yourself just slightly, because his fingers are wrapping around your wrists.

When you fight his pull, tensing, he flicks his eyes to yours in warning. You whine, pouting, and he seems to sense that you’re actually nervous.

His grip loosens. “Should I stop?”

You shake your head, because it’s not him. It’s just that-

“I just want you to think I’m pretty,” You admit, staring when his face splits in a wide grin.

“Okay,” He laughs. “That’s simple enough.” He smiles like he knows something you don’t. When you just blink, he’s ducking low and wrapping his hands around your thighs.

You scream as you’re lifted, arms abandoning their mission to keep you covered and instead aiming just to keep you alive. Suna wraps your legs around his waist while you throw your arms around his neck, clinging to him for dear life.

“ Put me down! ”

“Nope,” He laughs, walking you through the hall to his room. “Gotta prove that I think you’re pretty.” You’re flushing hard, because your nearly bare body is pressed against his, which means he can feel everything .

“Suna,” You plead, voice serious. “Come on, please, I’m too heavy-”

His laugh tickles your ear, low and warm. “Trust me, you’re not. I was benching your weight in high school.” He pulls his head back to meet your eyes, his own full of mirth as he stresses his point. “In high school , Y/n.”

You don’t know what to make of that. “I-”

“You do trust me, right?” He asks, tilting his head to look right at you. He stops at the foot of his bed, waiting for an answer.

“Yes,” You start. “Obviously I trust you, but-”

“Great,” He cuts you off.

“What-”

And then he throws you on his bed, dropping you without another word.

You shriek on the way down, scrambling to cover yourself as you bounce on the mattress. Suna just clamps onto your ankles and drags you to the edge, laughing when you yell his name in warning.

He crouches by the bed and you sit up, forgetting to cover your chest as you smack his arm angrily. “You are so rough -”

“You don’t like it rough?” He asks, lifting a brow with a smile.

You flush. “No, I do , but that’s not what I meant-”

He’s not listening. His gaze is trained very intensely on your body, eyes going a bit wide and his smile dropping marginally. He swallows, flushing, and pokes his tongue into his cheek as he looks everywhere you don’t want him to.

“Fuck,” He breathes, deflating a bit. “ Fuck .”

You desperately fight the urge to lift your arms, curling your fingers into his comforter instead. It’s a moment of real strength for you, but you meant it when you said you trust him. “What?”

When he laughs, it’s rough, like he’s a little bit upset with you.

“ Fuck- ” He groans, pushing up toward you and smashing his mouth to yours. You gasp, and he uses it to swipe his tongue against yours, a hand on your shoulder. You’re shoved onto your back, and he climbs over you, teeth nipping and tugging your lip, tongue soothing the pain right after.

You whine, lifting your hands hesitantly to his shoulders while he settles between your knees, hands guiding your thighs apart and around his waist. Trembling when he slides his hand over your tummy and hips, squeezing and kneading, you push your fingers through his hair, kissing him fully so you can distract yourself.

It’s easy, the push of his lips warm and sure, the brush of his tongue on yours safe, comforting. His hand wanders to places you’d always kept covered, other boys perfectly content to fuck you quickly – clothes on, lights off. Either one meant you were shielded, and both was even better.

This boy, though – your boy – seems determined to break all your rules, and you can’t say you’re all that inclined to stop him, if what had happened at the party is anything to go on.

“ Fuck ,” Suna groans against your mouth, fingers gripping tight to the plush skin of your hips, squeezing and pulling and squeezing again. He drops his mouth to the spot under your ear that you liked so much earlier, that wandering hand finding the curve of your breast while he digs his other arm into the mattress by your head, barely propped up on an elbow while he sucks at that sensitive little spot.

“W-What? Why do you keep saying that?” You pant, tilting your head and giving him better access. He breathes you in, and you feel his hips grind against yours, the open zipper and undone belt cold on your skin.

“You’re just-” He marks your throat, soothing the burning skin with his tongue as his hips rock unevenly into you again. “ -so pretty.” He makes his way to the crook of your neck while his fingers tease and toy with your nipple. He latches onto your skin when you mewl and arch your back, repeating it to himself, like he’s not even talking to you anymore. “ So fucking pretty. ”

You gasp when he hardens against you, and you turn your head to press your lips against his shoulders and neck. He angles his head for you, murmuring ‘ fuck ’ when you nibble lightly on his throat.

“ Want you ,” You whisper, sliding a hand between you and pushing at his jeans, palming him while you leave marks on his skin. “ Please .”

“ Fuck- Okay,” He stutters, pulling your hand away and kicking his clothes off. He shuffles down your body, pausing to bury his face between your breasts and groan loudly. “ Fuck! ” He yells, voice desperate and muffled against you and just a little bit unhinged.

You laugh breathily, shaking him, and feel him smile against your skin.

“ Okay, ” He murmurs. “ I got this. I can do this. ” His voice is unsteady and breathy, and you’re a little worried.

“What do you mean?” You tilt your head up, staring at him. He just kisses his way down to your navel, hooking his fingers into your panties and pulling you free of them, talking to himself the whole time.

“ You can do this, Suna, you got it- ” His eyes catch on the mess in your panties and he furrows a brow, staring. “What-” He glances down at your core, and you flush, knowing he’s seeing what’s left of his own cum, spread all over your skin.

You watch his eyes go wide, and he looks up at you. “I forgot about this.”

“I didn’t ,” You laugh, incredibly embarrassed. You start to cover your face, your ears ringing a bit, but Suna’s groaning and throwing his head back as he drops your panties to the floor.

“ Christ, I can’t do this-” He whines, looking down at your core again – he looks stressed, eyebrows furrowed and gaze tense. “I can’t do it–”

“Can’t do what ?” You ask, starting to feel extremely vulnerable.

He just meets your eyes, shaking his head. “I’m don’t think I’m gonna last. This is gonna be over in five minutes.”

Whatever fear had been building in your chest, unsure what he’s saying and worried it’s about you, melts away as you stare up at him.

You laugh in disbelief. “Sorry?”

“You fucking should be-” He shakes his head, gripping the undersides of your thighs and prying them apart in front of him so he can stand between them. You tense, the most exposed you’ve ever been, but he’s just sighing down at the mess he’d made on you at the party. “This is going to be the most disappointing performance of my life,” He complains, shaking his head. “I think it’s about to be me that gets fucked stupid-”

“Oh, my God , Suna, just fuck me already!” You laugh, digging your heel into his lower back. “Stop being a fucking idiot-”

“Can we just do this tomorrow?” He says. “I need time to mentally prepare, I feel like a teenager-”

“ Suna! ” You yell, slapping your hands on the bed.

“I’m sorry ,” He laughs, leaning on the edge of the bed. “You’re just-” He sighs wistfully, shaking his head as he stares down at your core. When he shifts, you feel the head of his cock brush against your thigh. It makes you squirm, and he groans at the sight. “- so fucking pretty ,” He breathes, more to himself than anything. “Just my type.”

When you laugh, he glances at your face, a brow raised. “Somethin’ funny?”

“Yeah, you,” You smile easily, like you’re not lying spread-eagle on Suna Rintarou’s bed, both of you completely naked. “You’re funny.”

He stares for a moment, and then his confusion changes to something else. He grins down at you slowly. Yet again, you feel like you’re missing something. “You didn’t know, did you?” A laugh of disbelief slips past his lips. “Back at the party, you didn’t know-”

“Know what ?” You say, exasperated.

“That you’re my type-”

“Oh, come on – I met all your exes,” You laugh, positively tickled as you prop yourself up on your elbows. “They were perfect-”

“No-” He shakes his head, pulling your thighs around him as he kneels on the mattress again. He climbs over you and knocks you back down, smiling like he can’t believe what’s happening. “They weren’t perfect. Not for me.” He cages you in, grinning down at you. “And I ended things with my last ex almost two years ago. I’ve had quite a few one-night stands since then. You know that.”

“ Yeah ,” You roll your eyes, finding it strange that you’re growing comfortable in this continued nudity with him. You’re still nervous and a bit unhappy being so exposed, but Suna’s near-tantrum of groaning and swearing had been soothing, in its own way. Familiar. “And you would always rant and rave afterward about perfect they were.”

You remember each one with stunning clarity, Suna slumping low on your couch and groaning about how ‘ She was everything. She was perfect- I think I fell in love a little bit ’. You’d always laughed it off, imagining beautiful blondes and foreign girls with crazy figures.

“Yeah-” Suna cuts your thoughts short, and you’re glad for it. Your insecurity’s flaring up again. “I did . I did say that, didn’t I?” He starts to smile, staring down at you like he’s saying something incredibly obvious.

It clicks suddenly, that he’d never actually told you what those girls had looked like.

“Wait-” You blink, meeting his eyes with confusion.

His smile grows fond, and he shakes his head, his tone almost amazed when he whispers to you.

“You really didn’t know?”

“They were…They looked like-?”

“Mm-hm,” He nods, shifting his weight. “They were sweet and pretty, just like you, now that I think about it. But you -” He straightens, sitting back on his heels and letting out a long breath as he trails his hands down your sides and settles them at your hips. “ You look like one of my college fantasies.”

Your jaw drops, face warming. “Then why the hell did you only date those model types?”

“Because girls that look like you -” He says appreciatively, gaze drawing over your body hungrily. You really need him to stop talking to you like that – you’re barely holding on as it is. “-never seem to want to come up to guys like me.”

“Can’t imagine why,” You laugh shakily at the irony. “Not like you’re perfect or anything.”

“Funny. That’s what I was gonna say about you,” He mumbles, shaking his head as he stares down at your body. You see his cock twitch, and you bite down on your lip when it brushes against you again.

“ Suna… ” You whine, shifting your hips under his hands. He shakes his head, squeezing you and running his thumb over a nearby stretch mark.

“What’d I tell you about that?” His eyes are dark when they meet yours, and you get the distinct feeling that your casual moment of naked conversation is coming to an end.

You laugh nervously. “You really want me to call you Rin?”

You’ve only ever said his given name in conjunction with his last, or when you’re angry with him. It would be new, but so is everything else about this.

“What I want-” He starts, leaning over you, lips brushing against yours. One hand curls into the comforter by your head, the other pressing against your core, fingers sliding through your folds. You inhale sharply, arching your back and pushing your mouth to his briefly. He kisses you lazily, pushing the tips of his fingers through the mess at your entrance, dipping in quickly and then smearing his cum all over your clit while he circles it. You whine, spreading your legs wider. He smiles into the kiss before pulling away to look at you.

“-is my name in your mouth,” He finishes, grinning wickedly when you look up at him longingly, your nerves swooping low in your stomach. “Can you do that for me?”

“ Yes, ” You breathe. “I can do that.”

“Good.” He presses his cock to your core, sliding through your folds a few times and groaning. He rocks his hips, breath shaky. “I’ll try to last long enough to make you stupid.”

You laugh, nervous and almost vibrating with anticipation, and Suna lines himself up at your entrance.

He hangs his head over you when he slides in, easier this time with the extra lubrication. He groans, bottoming out.

“ Fuck, ” You whisper to yourself, the breath knocked out of you.

“Yeah,” He agrees, nodding. He’s completely still, but you think his arms might be trembling when he holds himself above you. “ Fuck .”

He keeps his eyes trained on where he’s sliding slowly out of you, and you cling to his biceps as he rocks forward. When he sighs, it’s full of relief. “God, you feel good,” He mumbles to himself, and then he laughs, because you’re clenching tight around him.

“I like that you do that,” He admits, lifting his head to meet your gaze. “That you react like that when I talk to you.”

You flush, feeling that that’s an incredibly intimate thing to be saying while looking you straight in the eye. You shift, whining low and squeezing his arms.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” You ask, a little nervous.

Suna looks like he’s in the middle of thinking of something teasing to say, but your question cuts him short. His little half-smile drops and his brow furrows, his eyes searching yours.

“What kind of question’s that?” When you just swallow and stare up at him, he squints. “We’ve been kissing this whole time.”

“Yeah, but…” You trail off, unsure how to explain that a couple guys in college and even one of your previous Osaka boyfriends had a strong preference not to kiss you during sex. The other guys had always gone ahead and kissed you first, and you hadn’t needed to ask.

But you really want to be the one to kiss Suna – something about him makes you want to do things first, which is a new feeling all on its own – and you hadn’t considered that he wouldn’t understand your question.

He stares down at you now, his eyes taking on a cold glint while you decide how to respond.

He mumbles your name in warning. “Why would you need to ask me?”

“I just-” You try. “-want to check that it’s okay.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” He presses.

“Because for some guys…” You trail off. Suna’s eyes empty of emotion.

“I see.”

You purse your lips uncomfortably. Had you ruined the mood? “We can just keep going, if you want,” You mumble, looking away from him. “Or we can stop-”

You inhale sharply when Suna moves one of his hands to grip your face, the way he had before. He turns your face back to his, his eyes sharp.

“I appreciate that you’re so considerate of what I might want or not want ,” It’s a kind sentence, and he’s smiling, but his voice is so cold that all you can do is blink. “But I’d appreciate it more if you didn’t think about the guys before me while I’m fucking you.”

You pale, realizing that you’ve really gone and pissed him off. He smiles in irritation and lifts a brow, expectant.

“You gonna kiss me or not?”

You clench around him, entirely unconsciously.

His annoyance drops into exasperation, and his smile softens.

“There you go again, reacting when I talk to you.”

You card your fingers through his hair and drag him down to you without a word.

He sighs heatedly against your mouth and starts to rock into you again. “ Don’t ever fucking ask me that question again ,” He murmurs, pushing his lips roughly to yours. “ You hear me? ”

“ Yes ,” You breathe, brain going fuzzy at the stretch. “I hear you.”

He smiles. “Love it when you listen. You’re so good at it.” He lifts his head away from yours just as you’re whispering his name.

“ Rin, ” You try, nails scratching against his scalp. He shivers under your touch.

“I like that, too,” He says with a strained voice, his hips shifting as he thrusts into you. “My name in your mouth.”

You breathe shakily at the continued praise, his name coming out in a moan this time. He laughs and shakes his head, pushing his hips flush against yours.

“Shit,” He grunts through his teeth. “I’m really not gonna last long.”

You pull him down so you can kiss him again. He clamps a hand onto your hip while he tilts his head to slot himself against you better, and his hips start to move faster. When you moan his name into his mouth, it comes in the single breath of time between each slam of his cock into you, his rhythm vicious and perfect.

“ Yes ,” You angle your head back, eyes fluttering shut as you sigh at the relief he’s giving you.

Suna attaches his mouth to your throat, sucking harshly and marking you without hesitation. Making it clear what he thinks of the guys before him that didn’t want to claim or be claimed by you.

He drops his head beside yours, breathing uneven when his hips stutter briefly. The hand on your waist reaches up to where you’re clinging to his shoulders, and he pulls one of your hands down to the mattress so he can lace his fingers with yours.

It’s so out of place with how hard he’s fucking you, and that in itself is so deeply Suna .

Unexpected and surprising, just as he’s always been.

Your stomach swoops sharply, and you clench tight around him.

When he groans in your ear, a shudder runs through your body and pushes you right to the edge.

“Rin,” You gasp, all the air miraculously missing from your lungs. You’re not sure how to warn him that-

“Did I prove it?” He pants, voice low and vibrating through your skin. “That I think you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen?”

You’re standing with one foot off the edge of the cliff, high and with no visible end to the drop you’re about to feel.

You nod frantically, unsure if you want to throw yourself off or hold on for dear life to drag this moment out as long as possible.

Suna grips your hand tight enough that it hurts, and when his hips slam into yours, you’re distinctly aware that you’ll be sore in the morning.

“Then prove to me-” He sucks another mark into your throat, and when you spread your legs impossibly wider, drawing him in, he twitches inside of you. “-that you’re going to keep listening to me.”

Your free hand flies to the back of his head, pulling his hair taut so you can drag him back up to your mouth. When you push your lips urgently against his, he hums in approval.

“ Good ,” He breathes. “ So good for me .”

You should have known that it would be his praise that pushes you off that cliff.

You draw in a loud gasp, his name stuttered and moaned on your exhale.

He follows you over the edge, his hand squeezing yours tight as he stills his hips and fills you for the second time tonight. He moans into your mouth when you push your hips up against his, searching for more.

You kiss him while you come down, slipping your teeth over his lip ring and tugging mindlessly, because your head is filled with your heartbeat and a white noise you’ve only ever heard once before, in Atsumu’s spare room not even a couple hours ago.

After a moment, Suna lifts his head, breathing hard. Your eyes flutter as you fight the urge to close them, and you sigh happily up at him, because he’s starting to smile.

“Good?”

You giggle, a bit delirious. “Good. Stupid.”

He drops his head to your shoulder, laughing. “Good. Me, too.”

“Yeah?” You ask, pride filling you at the idea that you’ve made Suna Rintarou stupid.

“Incredibly,” He confirms, mumbling nonsensically at you. “Irreparably. Infinitely.”

You snort, your voice exhausted and pleased. “Just you wait, Suna Rintarou. When I do the fucking, you’re done for.”

He lifts his head so fast that it startles you briefly out of your stupor, and you’re surprised to find his eyes wide and excited.

“Oh?” He asks, latching onto what you’d said. “When am I gonna get to experience that?”

You laugh, a bit embarrassed that he’d reacted so strongly to your silly ramblings. “Be quiet-”

“I’m free tomorrow morning-No-” He shakes his head. “Give me, like, ten minutes. I can’t wait ‘til tomorrow.”

You smack his arm, your limbs jelly. “Isn’t twice in one night enough for you?”

“Is it enough for you ?” He asks, brows lifted.

No, not even a little bit. Not with him.

Still, someone has to be reasonable here. “I’m tired now,” You complain. “You took everything out of me.”

“Aw,” He coos, pretending to be disappointed. “Tomorrow morning it is, then.”

“God-” You laugh, pushing at his chest. “I need a shower and about 12 hours of sleep. And maybe some food.”

He rolls his eyes good-naturedly and pulls away, sighing when he slips out of you. You sit up, quickly, trying not to spill anything on his blankets.

“Let me just go clean up, and then I’ll head out,” You say, scooting past him and reaching for your panties on the floor. You slip them on and stand, wrapping your arms around your breasts, because the post-sex realizations are starting to set in.

So many post-sex realizations. Most of them starting with ‘ What the fuck- ’.

“Head out?” He repeats, sitting dumbly on his bed. You toss him his boxers and head for the bathroom, hearing as he stumbles into them and follows you into the hall.

“Yeah, it’s late,” You glance back toward the kitchen, seeing on the stove clock that it’s well past 2am now. “Do you mind calling me an Uber, or-”

He wraps a hand around your bicep, spinning you around in the hallway and pressing you against the wall.

“What are you doing?” He asks, dipping his head low to meet your eyes. “Why are you running?”

“Running?” You blink, taken aback. “I thought that-”

You know well enough that Suna Rintarou doesn’t let his one-night stands spend the night.

You know even better that your own one-night stands never wanted you to spend the night, either.

“I’m not calling you an Uber at 2:30 in the morning, Y/n,” Suna shakes his head, smiling as though even the idea is funny. “You’re staying.”

You just stare. “But isn’t better if I-”

“I thought you just said you were tired,” He cuts you short, lifting a brow.

You are. You’re exhausted.

“I am,” You nod slowly, entirely unsure how to handle this situation. “But I can leave if-”

When he grips your face, cheeks squeezed between his fingers for the millionth time tonight, he says nothing. He just shuts you up with a hand on your face and his eyes unyielding on yours.

It had taken a single hour of your life to learn how Suna Rintarou deals with you when he’s frustrated.

How had he done it before? When you’d annoyed him, how had he managed? Would he just roll his eyes and move on? Yes, that feels right.

Had he wanted to react this way instead the entire time?

You think of how to proceed, your eyes flicking between his.

“Uhm-” You mumble, and he loosens his grip so you can speak, but his thumb taps a warning into the corner of your mouth. “Okay, can I just… clean up, then?”

He eyes you for a moment, and then he lets you go, watching you step carefully into his bathroom. You close the door while keeping your eyes on his, and you think you see him head back to the room as you’re shutting the door between you.

You spend the better half of five minutes staring at yourself in the mirror. At the marks he’d left on your neck and chest, already bruising. At the state of your nudity, somehow forgotten in the last few moments with him. At the panties you’re wearing, hiding the mess Suna Rintarou had left there not once, but twice tonight. Buried between your legs – not once, but twice .

Ten years of friendship, changed in a matter of hours.

What are you going to do? Was this worth it? Was risking everything worth a single chance to sleep with your best friend? Would things be terribly awkward now-

“ Stop catastrophizing.”

His voice pulls you from the pit you’re heading into, quick and painless and effortlessly him.

You glance over your shoulder through the mirror, seeing his shadow under the door.

“ Use the bathroom or open the door – no third option. ”

You wonder if you’d always been prone to following his lead without question.

Yes, you think, as you do exactly as he says and move to the toilet. You have been.

At Inarizaki, when he would hand you his spare volleyball jersey and tell you to sit front row at their games, ignoring the horde of girls glaring from across the room.

In college, when you’d almost decided against the Culinary major, and he’d steered you firmly away from the Econ booth at the recruitment fair and walked you straight over to where Osamu was waiting expectantly, already chatting it up with the upperclassmen wearing chef hats.

Even with your past boyfriends, you’d only become most aware of their flaws and what they really thought of you once you’d introduce them to Suna. Only then – when green eyes would stare at outstretched hands before flicking to yours, unimpressed – would you see their inadequacies.

Suna Rintarou had always known how to keep you in check, always forcing you to put yourself first.

You stare at your reflection while you wash your hands.

Do you want to stay the night? If he gave you the choice – if you weren’t worried about him wanting you to leave – would you stay?

You crack the door open after another moment, poking your head out. Suna’s leaning on the wall, holding one of his t-shirts and a pair of boxers. He eyes you quietly, offering them to you.

Yes , you decide, taking them from him carefully.

You would stay.

You back away and change quickly, leaving the door cracked. Seeing that the shirt’s bordering on snug around the tummy, you grimace and turn this way and that, wondering how to make it look better.

You don’t notice Suna nudging the door open, but you can sense that he’s watching you in the mirror, so you glance up.

He’s got his eyes trained on how the shirt fits you, eyes dark as he leans against the door frame. His mouth quirks up briefly, and then he’s pulling his lip ring between his teeth.

“I’ll admit-” He clicks his teeth with his tongue. “-that this was a selfish choice on my part.”

You flush. “I look silly.”

“That’s not the word I would have used,” He says, meeting your eyes now. “Still want me to take you home?”

It’s a test, that much is clear. His gaze is guarded, and the slight angle of his eyebrow tells you that, if you say yes, he might be disappointed.

Not in you, you realize. But disappointed all the same.

You turn toward him, facing him head-on as you take a step in his direction. You take a deep breath, reaching out and toying with the band on his shorts, and then look up at him.

“Can I stay?”

You’ve never seen that look in his eye before, the one that’s tinted with pride and warmth.

You wonder what you could possibly do to see it again.

“Yes,” He all but laughs. “You can stay. Tonight and tomorrow and the day after, too.”

You smile, looking down at your feet. “I’ll take you up on that if you’re not careful.”

“I hate being careful. I’m opposed to it, really,” He grins when you give him a deadpan look. “Stay all week. And next week, too.”

“Shut up-” You smack his arm, following him back to the bedroom.

It’s only when you’re climbing into bed with him – climbing into Suna Rintarou’s bed with the intention of spending the night with him, after you’ve just slept with him – that your nerves return.

“Sunarin,” You start, kneeling beside him on the mattress. “What are we-”

He latches onto the front of your – his – shirt and pulls you down next to him. “Tomorrow,” He mumbles, dragging you close and trapping you under him. His head lands on your chest, and he slings an arm around your waist, a knee lodged between yours. “Tomorrow.”

You still for a moment, and then you slide an arm over his back and card your fingers through his hair, scratching lightly.

“Tomorrow,” You repeat into his hair.

It’s concerningly easy to fall asleep like that.

–

When you wake the next morning, Suna’s gone.

You have a brief moment of panic at the thought that he’d realized his mistake and run, but then you remember that you’re in his apartment.

And, apart from that very convincing point, it smells like his house is burning in bacon grease.

You climb out of bed, pausing briefly to be utterly shocked at how sore you are, and then you pad quietly into the hall.

He’s in the kitchen, running around in a silent panic and waving a dish towel over the smoky mess coming out of his oven.

“I have so many questions,” You say, announcing yourself.

“Fuck!” He jumps, turning. “Fucking fuck, you scared me.”

You smile at his eloquence, rounding the corner of the bar and staring down at the open oven. Several strips of what should be bacon are sitting on a sheet pan, shriveled up and charred to all hell.

“How long have those been in there?” You smile when you ask, because you can tell by the look of them exactly how long they’ve been there.

“I set the 20-minute timer…” He glances at the clock. “55 minutes ago?” He tilts his head, and you can’t help but think it’s quite endearing. “That’s not right.”

“No, that’s definitely right,” You laugh, plucking the dish towel from him and pulling the pan out easily. You toss the bacon straight in the trash and then put the pan on the stove, pointing at the nearby window as you go. He opens it, and then does the same with the other two in the living room.

“Well, I think we both know I’ll never be as good at this as you are,” He says, sticking his head out and breathing in fresh air.

You just open his fridge and duck inside, finding half a pack of bacon and a carton of eggs. You pull both out, along with some vegetables to throw into a scramble. “Why are you making breakfast?” You know well enough that he doesn’t eat in the morning, and he’d always hated cooking for himself.

“Because-” His voice is close again, and you find him peering pathetically at the bacon in the trash. “-you’re always on my ass about eating three square meals a day. I didn’t want to get yelled at.”

You chop an onion quickly, rolling your eyes at the appreciative noises he makes at your quick knifework.

“So professional,” He teases, whistling.

“It’s an onion, Suna,” You laugh. “If you can’t dice an onion at your grown age, we have bigger problems to address.”

“See, this is the shit I was trying to avoid-” He whines, moving around you. “Coffee?”

You glance back, seeing that he’s at his coffee maker. He smirks down at you.

“I don’t have an industrial grade espresso machine, unfortunately. But drip coffee does the job, I would assume.”

You roll your eyes again. “I’m not some stuck-up coffee bitch-”

“Don’t tell your customers that,” He jokes, and you watch as he scoops tablespoons of ground coffee straight from a bag of your own shop’s brand. You smile, somehow not having realized that he gets his coffee from you. “They’re relying on your stuck-up coffee bitch tendencies to tell them what’s good.”

“Noted,” You respond, moving to his stove. He brushes a hand on your waist as he reaches over you to get two mugs from the cabinet, and you lean back to let him open the cabinet door, finding yourself pressed warmly against his chest.

It’s all terribly domestic, in a way that things have never been between the two of you.

When he presses his mouth lazily against the side of your head in something that’s not quite a kiss but certainly can’t be deemed platonic, the nerves from last night set in again.

You glance up as he moves away, finding that he’s eyeing you for a reaction.

You bow your head, shifting chopped bacon around the pan and focusing hard on making a decent egg scramble. He chuckles to himself, preparing your coffee the way he knows you like it, and your stomach swoops with a fluttery feeling you’d never thought to associate with Suna Rintarou.

You serve breakfast quickly and take the plates quickly to the couch, feeling his presence behind you.

You start to eat in relative silence, but he only lasts a matter of two minutes.

“Stop thinking so hard. It’s ruining my appetite.”

You sigh, the dam broken now, and set your plate down on the table.

“Can we talk about it?”

“Obviously,” He responds with ease, setting his plate next to yours. “That’s why I made you stay.”

You blink. “What?”

“You think I was gonna just let you go home and avoid me for a week until I would have to corner you at work?” He rolls his eyes. “I don’t have the energy to be that dramatic, and neither do you.”

You work through that slowly. “You knew that taking me home would make me anxious…?”

“Dude,” He laughs, digging the heel of his hand into his eye. “How long have we known each other?”

You don’t know if you’re offended or relieved that he’d called you Dude after fucking you twice in one night.

“How many times in our friendship have you tried avoiding me?” He continues, eyeing you knowingly.

You think right away of that very first time, when he’d started walking you home after school and then picking you up in the morning. When you’d felt a bit wary of him and opted to stay away, only for him to stop you in your tracks and reel you back in after a couple weeks.

And then again, in college, when his then-girlfriend had asked you to stay away from him. They’d been together a while, and he’d seemed happy, so you had tried it. He’d shown up at your door after exactly 6 of his messages had gone unanswered, demanding an explanation. It had been a day and a half.

Just one other time, a few months after moving to Osaka, when he’d come over and found one of your vibrators on the couch. You’d promptly disappeared into your room, determined to wait him out, but he had picked your lock after an hour and then proceeded to chase you around your apartment with the toy, scolding you for your avoidant tendencies.

And now, this. Not even ten minutes into the beginning of your panicked spiral, he’d yanked you out of it and gotten you to stay with him. Mere minutes to settle your nerves.

“Oh,” You mumble, understanding now that he had never let you stray for too long, even back then.

“Yeah. Oh ,” He laughs. “So stop panicking internally and start panicking externally so I can fix it.”

You pick at a stray piece of lint on the t-shirt he’d given you. “I’m worried things will be ruined between us.”

“Not happening. Next.” He says it with such certainty that you need a moment to recover.

“That’s it? Not happening?” You laugh wryly, shaking your head. “You kissed the side of my head while getting a cup from the cabinet.”

He just shrugs. “You got a kissable head. Not my fault.”

“Suna!” You smack your hands on the couch cushion, frustrated. “I am worried about this!”

“And I-” He starts, turning toward you now. “-am not.” He looks you straight in the eye. “I am not worried about this. At all.”

“Why not?” You plead, voice a bit whiny. “Why are you so unconcerned about this?”

“Because I trust you, and you trust me,” He says simply. “At the end of the day, that’s all that matters. We deal with things together, and we trust each other.”

“I don’t know how you can feel so settled about something this complicated,” You sigh.

“There’s nothing complicated about it, Y/n,” He shakes his head. “You wanted to get laid, and I offered.”

You frown. He lifts a brow, asking a pointed question.

“Did you have fun?”

You think about every moment that made you tremble last night, about the soreness between your legs. Your face warms, and you find him smiling knowingly down at you. He tilts his head.

“Yeah. I did, too,” He admits, smile widening when you flush harder. “Why would I want that to stop? We had fun.”

You stare, nerves frozen. You hadn’t mentioned anything about continuing with this little arrangement.

He lifts a brow. “You thought we were done?”

Your stomach swoops with anticipation. “I mean… We… I got what I… And you…”

He shakes his head. “Nope. There’s a lot of shit we gotta fix.”

“Fix?” You repeat, scoffing. “About me?”

“Not you . The shit you’ve internalized,” He says, giving you a look. “Asking if you can kiss me ? Really ? That’s fucked up.”

You warm again, embarrassed. “Well, I’ve made the mistake of assuming before that-”

“The only mistake you’ve made-” He cuts you off. “-is letting unworthy guys into your bed. Everything else is on them.”

You swallow. “And you think you’re worthy?”

He watches you carefully. “I think that’s up to you to decide.”

When you don’t respond, only staring at him dumbly, he scoots closer, eyes dropping to your mouth.

“Will you let me show you that everyone before me was wrong?” He swallows, the mood heavier than before. “Because I think I could – I think I should.”

You breathe out a shaky sigh, eyes catching on the glint of his lip ring. “You don’t have to do me any favors-”

You watch as that lip ring moves with the curve of his smile, slow and laughing at some joke you don’t realize you’ve told.

“Favors,” He echoes, shaking his head and leaning close. Your lungs fill with the scent of him, and his eyes are dark when you finally look up at them. “You must think very highly of me if you think that’s what this is.”

You’re leaning close, head dipping toward his before you can think too hard about it.

“I really don’t think I should use you for sex, Suna,” You protest weakly.

His lips brush against yours when he whispers to you.

“But I really want you to.”

When you curl your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, he presses his mouth to yours. It comes with a fuzzy feeling in your head, a fog that makes it hard to say no. He tilts his head and leans forward, and you find yourself half-trapped under him, heading in a direction that’s terrifyingly familiar.

“Is that a yes, then?” He murmurs, fingers sliding up past the hem of your shirt and kneading at your waist.

You nod after a moment, trying to focus on putting yourself first. He’s suggesting this, and he’s made it clear this is for him, too. The memory of how he’d looked down at you last night, hungry and needy, sends a tingle through your body.

What’s the harm in a little fun between two consenting adults?

“If you’re sure,” You breathe into his mouth, offering your consent and giving him the final say.

You find yourself pressed up against corner of the couch after that, Suna caging you in and slotting his hips between your thighs.

“ Thank fuck ,” He whispers, tangling his fingers in your hair and molding his mouth to yours. He presses his hips very gently between yours, seeking silent permission. You sigh into his mouth at the feel of him against your core, already half-hard, but then you wince, because he’s pushing up against a rather sore spot.

He pulls away, eyes searching your face. You grin sheepishly.

“Just a little sore.”

His brows lift, and he’s glancing down between you. “Shit, I didn’t realize-”

“It’s fine,” You laugh, shaking your head. “I wasn’t really expecting it, either. Guess it’s just been a while.”

He has positively no need for the inflated ego that would come with telling him you’ve never been with someone of his… physique.

Still, you can’t help but rather cryptically mumble to yourself, “ Just gotta get used to it .”

You feel his pleased grin in the silence that follows.

“I can, uh-” His voice is so smug, you want to smack him. He hooks a finger into the band of the boxers he’d lent you, tugging suggestively. “-think of something that might help with that.”

The room becomes suddenly quite a bit warm.

You glance up through your eyelashes, that fuzzy feeling returning when you find him staring back. You lift your hips just enough to help him pull the shorts off, his eyes on yours the entire time. They’re filled with thinly veiled excitement, the kind of excitement he might actually be embarrassed to realize he’s showing.

This Suna is the same as last night, but something’s different. He’s not the Suna that had guaranteed he would focus on you, with no care for securing his own pleasure.

This Suna is reaching for your hips with hands that want to do things without asking, hands that want to take what they want selfishly. You jump when he drags you up and onto his lap, your bare core pushed down onto his boxers. You gasp in surprise, feeling him so intimately through the fabric, and he does the same, his hips shifting on instinct under you.

“ Fuck, Rin ,” You whisper, chasing the slide of him against you, the fabric of his boxers already wet. When you say his name, his head falls back, and he stares up at you with cloudy eyes. He cups the back of your neck and pulls you down, lips full on yours.

You barely register when he lifts your hips just enough for him to tug his boxers down, but you feel it with haze-inducing certainty when he brings you back down and drags you along the length of him. Your head hangs forward, forehead pressed against his as you copy his motion on your own, his cock wonderfully hard and searing hot against your core.

“ Yes, ” He breathes, fingers gripping your waist. “ Just like that -” He buries a hand in your hair and pulls your lips to his, his hips moving in time with yours while he kisses you. He reaches between you, and you know without being told to lift up just enough that he can line himself up against your entrance.

When you sink down on him, his moan mixes with yours in your mouth. The stretch makes you ache, all those sore spots crying out around him, but, more than anything, it feels so impossibly good .

You start to move, trying to find a way to lift up off of him, but he slides an arm around your waist, keeping you sitting firmly in his lap. You let out a noise of protest, and he smiles.

“ Getting you used to it ,” He murmurs against your lips. You squirm impatiently, and he holds you tighter. “ Just be patient. I don’t wanna hurt you more ,” He scolds, his voice so low and gentle and vibrating so softly against your lips.

You drop your head to his shoulder, whining quietly. “Want you to move.”

“That’s too bad,” He snickers into your neck. His hand falls between you, and you jump at the cold pad of his thumb on your clit. He circles it carefully, breathing unevenly when you start to clench around him. “You did it just fine last night, didn’t you?” He laughs, cut short when you swirl your hips, shifting around him just enough to make the rest of his comment come out with a moan. “Come on, Y/n, let me help you.”

You give in, slumping against his chest with a sigh. He whispers into your ear, a breathy ‘ Good girl ’ sending a shock of nerves down your spine. His thumb warms on your clit, the only movement shared between you, apart from the constant, unconscious clench of your walls around his cock. He twitches inside you each time, small sighs leaving him.

A particularly hard swipe of his thumb makes you shiver, and Suna’s sigh is more audible than the one before, almost a moan but more of a choke on his breath before a harsh release. You lift your head, eyes hazy as you stare down at his mouth, willing those parted lips to let that sound come again.

He stares back, and you trace the flush of his cheeks, radiating warmth, up to his eyes. He looks just as far away as you feel, the fog in your head reflected in his gaze.

You hold his gaze for a moment, the slide of his thumb on your most sensitive spot electrified when combined with the lock of his eyes on yours.

When his gaze drops to your mouth and then flicks up again, your nerves twist in your navel, and you let out a soft whine.

His eyes widen marginally at the sound, and his cock twitches hard against your walls. You both moan, and his hands slide to your waist so he can drag you against him, a moment of brief insanity.

“ Oh, ” You exhale, eyes wide. Suna sighs in response, a quiet ‘ fuck ’ slipping past his lips. Your fingers fall between you, picking up right where he left off.

“Oh, God,” He moans, staring down at how your fingers move. “Look at you.”

You whine and close your eyes, trying to push down the embarrassment that’s flooding your cheeks. You feel his hands pull you down over him, and he holds you tight to his chest.

“ Don’t get nervous ,” He murmurs against your ear, an arm securing you to him. “ You’re doing so good .”

You bury your face in his shirt, his scent intoxicating in a way you hadn’t noticed before yesterday. The coil in your navel twists hard, the cliff right there where you remember it. “ Is this okay?”

“ More than okay .” His breath is warm on your skin. “ Keep going. Use me – please- ”

You add ‘ begging’ to the list of ways Suna can shove you right over the edge, right under ‘ praise’ .

Your ears ring when you come, your half-sob of his name into his shirt completely unheard. He just slides his hand into your hair and holds you close as you twitch against him, his breath warm and unsteady in your ear.

You heave a breath into the crook of his neck after a moment and then lift your head, your nose brushing against his when you look at him. He smiles lazily at you, eyes flicking to your lips and back when you start to mirror it.

“Still sore?”

You laugh, nodding. “It’s better, though. Not as much of a stretch. Doesn’t hurt to sit like this.”

Suna grimaces. “I wish you woulda told me it hurt.”

“It wasn’t very high on my list of priorities last night.”

His smile has a hint of pride that’s only mildly exasperating. “Well, hopefully next time, it won’t hurt at all.”

You flush at the anticipation of next time , of the arrangement set for the indefinite future.

You take him in then, realizing that he hadn’t finished. His cheeks are still heated, and there’s a slightly distracted tint to his gaze.

He’s upsettingly pretty.

“What about you?” You ask, sitting up slightly. He purses his lips at the movement, shaking his head.

“It’s fine. I don’t want to make anything worse.”

You frown, looking at him with uncertainty. Never once had you been with a guy that had just stopped before he could benefit from being with you.

Suna smiles back bitterly, reading you. “Weren’t expecting that, huh?” When you say nothing, he sighs to himself. “So much to fix.”

You frown, disliking that word, even now. “I’m not a pet project-”

“ No- ” He cuts you off, lifting his hand to your face, eyes clearly laced with irritation that you’d suggest something like that.

His fingers hover over your cheeks, and you know he wants to squeeze you, but he slides his fingers through your hair instead, a small sigh steadying him. “You’re not a project. You’re not a charity, either, and I’m not doing you any favors- ” He tightens his grip on your hair, speaking through gritted teeth.

“You’re my best friend, and I think my newest hobby should be finding every guy you’ve ever had the misfortune of encountering and beating his kneecaps out with my bare hands.”

You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of his statement, but he’s not done.

“I’m angry, more than you probably think, that several guys have made you feel like you can’t have everything you want-” He uses his grip to pull your face close, and your smile drops when you have nowhere else to look but at his eyes. They’re dark – cold and annoyed – but there’s something else there that make your nerves twist with a tinge of excitement. A promise to give you something you thought only pretty girls deserved.

“I’m angry that I did not realize just how much I should have hated all those guys you introduced me to-” His heated sigh warms your lips. “-or that I could have been the one in their place all this time, making sure you never got to this point.”

You stare, eyes wide, when you realize what he’s saying. That if he could go back, he would. That he would undo everything – that he will undo everything.

Suna keeps your eyes on his when he speaks. “So I’m going to fix it , and you’re going to let me. ”

You don’t know what to make of the way your nerves flutter, the way your heart pounds for Suna Rintarou.

You swallow, nodding shallowly. “ Okay ,” You whisper, because you don’t know that you can speak any louder than that.

He breathes, echoing back. “Okay.” He blinks, loosening his grip just enough to give you room to pull away. “Now,” He sighs. “Can we finish eating and go to work? Because the way you’re looking at me is making me hard again.”

You only realize he’s still inside you when his cock twitches, and you have to laugh, disbelief flooding you.

“Uh-Yeah-” You stumble, lifting off of him and tensing when he slips out of you. Suna sighs, tucking himself into his shorts and then reaching for his plate.

“Fucking breakfast,” He grumbles, shoveling cold egg scramble into his mouth. “Three square meals a day, my ass.”

This man’s going to give you whiplash, you’re sure of it.

–

When you walk into your shop, freshly showered and wearing one of Suna’s hoodies over the single pair of jeans you’d left at his place months ago, you’re incredibly glad that you hadn’t let him walk you inside.

Osamu is standing at the door leading to the back hallway, smiling far too happily for your liking.

“Hi,” You say to him, suspicious of the look on his face. You round the bar of your half of the shop, greeting the barista on shift. Haru’s a college frat boy, but he’s sweet and brings a lively energy to the shop that neither you nor Osamu can manage on your own. The girl standing behind the register on Osamu’s side, a classmate of Haru’s named Mayuri, is often exasperated with him, but their constant bickering only adds to the appeal of your store overall.

“Hey, Haru,” You grin, patting him on the shoulder as you pass behind him. He just whistles low as he pulls espresso shots.

“Fun night?”

When you just blink, he glances back at you and beams, lifting one hand to the side of his neck. “Try a turtleneck next time, Boss.”

You gasp, slapping your hand over the bruise you’re now aware of. “I-” You turn to Osamu, who’s smiling to himself as he heads back into the small hallway bridging your two shops.

You turn and rush through the door behind the bar, one that leads into your storage room, and Osamu appears at the doorway on the other end of the room, clearly aware that this conversation can’t happen out in the main room.

“Don’t-” You point at the smug grin on his face. “-look at me like that.”

“How was the rest of your night?” He asks, leaning on one of the counters and crossing his arms over his chest.

“How was yours?” You tease, lifting a brow. “How’s Yachi?”

And then you duck, because he’s throwing a bag of coffee beans at you.

“She’s great, thank you for asking,” He says through gritted teeth and a blush. “We’re getting dinner on Friday.”

You gasp, forgetting all about taunting him. “Really?!” You move to his side, bouncing on your toes excitedly. “How? When? What’d you say? What’d she say? Where are you going-”

“Y/n,” He laughs, throwing his head back. “Deep breaths, please.”

You breathe in and out dramatically before tapping a hand rapidly on his arm. “Details, details!”

He shakes his head. “I asked, she said yes, we’re going to that Italian place you’re always talking about-”

“Yes!” You jump, smacking him hard on the shoulder. “Miya Osamu, everybody!” You smack him again for good measure. “This is the best day of my life.”

“Oh?” He lifts a brow. “Do I need to make sure Suna never hears that?”

Your excited bouncing stops abruptly, and you flush hard, much to the pleasure of your friend. He reaches out in your silence, prodding lightly at the mark on your throat. You just smack his hand away lightly with an embarrassed laugh. “What d’you want me to say, Samu?”

“Everything-” He says right away, clearly dying for information. But then he grimaces. “Well, not everything , please. But, you know-”

You scoff, affronted, and lean on the counter across from him. “I think you know most of it.”

“I highly doubt that,” He shakes his head, staring you down. “There’s a whole night between when I last saw you and right now.”

“Well, obviously, some of that time was spent sleeping,” You try, intentionally being difficult. It doesn’t work, Osamu a wall of patience after a lifetime with his brother.

“Oh, yes, obviously. But that still leaves-” He counts obnoxiously on his fingers. “-a good three or four hours unaccounted for. And-” He flicks his chin in the direction of the main room. “-considering who left you at the door two minutes ago, I’m gonna guess that your bed was very lonely last night.”

You warm to the point of discomfort, crossing and uncrossing your arms over your middle. “There was some bed sharing, yes.”

“Oh, some bed sharing,” Osamu echoes, nodding very seriously, his eyes betraying the mirth he feels. “Yes, some bed sharing – and before that? In the time between damaging a door in one of Tsumu’s spare rooms and sharing Suna’s bed?”

“We didn’t damage a door- ” You hiss, embarrassed, but he just smiles at you. You sigh. “But there may have been some… other bed sharing.”

Osamu hides his face in his hands and laughs loudly. You stomp a foot.

“What!”

He shakes his head, waving a hand with a sigh. “Nothing. What else?”

“Nothing,” You say stubbornly. “That was it.”

“Bullshit,” He smiles evenly, clearly unconvinced by your performance. “It’s-” He glances at his watch. “-ten in the morning, and you were giving him bedroom eyes when he dropped you off.”

“I was not!” You yell, humiliated.

“Something else happened this morning,” He teases, ignoring your outburst. “So you can either tell me now when it’s just us, or you can tell me later, but Atsumu won’t be as nice when he asks.”

You pale, forgetting about the consequences of sleeping with Suna Rintarou in Miya Atsumu’s apartment.

As though punished by the mere thought of him, you hear the door to the shop slam open, the bell jingling violently.

“ Where y’at, punk! ”

The consequence in question being Miya Atsumu himself.

You stare up at Osamu, eyes wide, but the man just shrugs and smiles down at you.

“Good luck,” He says, offering no comfort aside from that.

You rush out to the front, finding your worst enemy on the other side.

Atsumu stares down at you from the counter, eyes wide. Sakusa’s just behind him, eyeing the area behind the bar as though deciding if he wants to order something. The germaphobe meets your eyes, and you see the shape of his mask change as he face rises into a small, polite smile.

“I figured you’d need help,” He says plainly, eyes leaving yours to flick to a jar filled with open straws when Haru comes over and plucks one from inside while making someone else’s drink.

You smile, ignoring Atsumu and stepping up to the register. “What can I get you, Kiyoomi?”

“Mm,” The man hums, glancing up at menu. You feel Atsumu’s eyes boring into the mark on your throat but keep your eyes on his not-boyfriend, watching him glance briefly at the stack of plastic cups and then at the jar of straws again. He clears his throat. “Just an iced latte, please.”

You punch the order into the register and then clear the charge with your authorization code just as he’s reaching into his wallet. He watches the pay screen disappear in confusion, but you just smile up at him innocently and turn to Atsumu while the order prints out on Haru’s side of the bar.

“Need something, Tsumu? A latte for you, too?”

“Nah, I’m good,” He smiles back, just as innocent but with an icy edge. “Some answers’d be nice, if ya sell those here.”

“Oh, sure, answers,” You grin, matching his cold tone. You feel Haru glance nervously at you while he pulls the shots for Sakusa’s drink, so you shoot him a comforting smile. “Don’t worry, Haru, we’re just chatting.”

“Yeah, just chattin’,” Atsumu grins knowingly down at you. “Caught you just chattin’ in my kitchen last night with a certain someone-”

“Alright-” You interrupt, your smile threatening. “-I think you’ll find your answers in the back, actually,” You say, because Haru doesn’t need all the details of your unexpected night with Suna.

The frat boy hands you Sakusa’s drink, strawless, and then moves to wipe down the bar.

While his back is turned, you set the drink down and reach for a pair of latex gloves under the counter and pull them on. Crouching, you pull a fresh cup from stock, one that’s yet to see the light of day. You pour out Sakusa’s drink into the clean cup and cap it, and then, as Sakusa’s taking it with wide eyes and lifted brows, you reach under the counter again and retrieve the box of straws, holding it out to him so he can grab a clean straw for himself. He reaches for it slowly, blinking a few times in quick succession before mumbling a quiet ‘ Thank you ’.

“Any time,” You say with a bright smile. And then you turn, tossing the used cup and gloves and leaving Haru to man the bar again while you lead the boys to where Osamu’s still waiting for you. You hear Sakusa whisper ‘ You told her? ’ to Atsumu as you go, smiling to yourself when the blond just mumbles ‘ I di’nt tell her nothin’ , Omi ’.

When Atsumu sees his brother waiting, he makes a beeline for him, all but yelling, “What’d she tell ya? Tell me!”

Sakusa stops you at the door, the sleeve of Suna’s hoodie caught between the knuckles of his pointer and middle fingers as he pulls you back. He pushes some cash into your palm, far more than his drink would have actually cost.

“Thank you,” He says again, gaze meaningful.

“Any time,” You repeat, just as meaningfully. You try to push the money back, but he just brushes past you with a hidden smile, leaving you holding his cash as he moves to Atsumu’s side. He stands closer to the blond than he had outside, because it’s safe to do so here. You lift a brow at Atsumu, who flushes briefly before pointing at you.

“Uh-uh, don’t go distractin’ me – Did you fuck ‘im er not?”

You choke, eyes bugging out at him. “Atsumu-”

Osamu snickers into his hand. “What’d I tell you? He’s brutal.”

Atsumu ignores it. “Answer me, woman! How many times and in which positions?”

“ Atsumu! ” You laugh, aiming a swing in his direction. “Those details are mine and Suna’s alone-”

“Was it twice?” Atsumu starts. “Once at mine and then once when ya got home?”

“Definitely twice,” Osamu confirms before you can say anything. “The question is, what happened this morning ? The bedroom eyes at the door is makin’ me think it was three times, actually-”

“Samu-” You start.

“ Bedroom eyes ?!” Atsumu yells, scandalized. “Three times for sure, then! Maybe four?”

“No, not four!” You hold your hands out to stop him from going any further.

“So, three ,” Osamu says decidedly, smirking down at you.

“Definitely three ,” Atsumu nods, his face just the same.

You realize your mistake and sigh, exhausted. When you glance up at Sakusa, he just sips at his latte with a blank face.

“A little of that help would be nice right about now,” You whisper to him. He just blinks back.

“I’d like to know more about these bedroom eyes you were giving him, actually.”

You throw your hands out in frustration while Atsumu laughs, Osamu offering Sakusa an elbow to bump in approval.

“Fine,” You say, giving in, and then give them all the answers at once. “Three – two last night and one this morning, after he almost burned the apartment down making breakfast,” You recount in almost detached detail, ignoring when Atsumu mumbles ‘ He made breakfast?’ incredulously. “Then he convinced me that it wouldn’t be a terrible idea to keep sleeping together. He dropped me off here-” You point at Osamu in warning. “-but I did not give him bedroom eyes.”

Your co-owner smiles back. “It was the look Atsumu gives Sakusa after they win a game.”

You grimace, unable to enjoy the lovely pink shade flooding Atsumu’s cheeks or the amused look of interest Sakusa gives him out of the corner of his eye, because you know exactly which look Osamu’s talking about, and it’s horrifically obvious.

“That’s embarrassing,” You say plainly.

“Hey!” Atsumu protests loudly.

Sakusa just smiles and sips at his drink again.

“Man,” Osamu says, shaking his head as the thinks. “Three times in under twelve hours is crazy,” He laughs. “You guys were really making up for lost time, huh?”

You flush, remembering that Suna had said the same just before pulling you into Atsumu’s spare room. You’d taken it as him offering a reason to whisk you away from that group of guys, but, now that Osamu’s mentioning it, too-

“What do you mean, lost time?” You ask, eyeing him. He looks at you like you’re insane.

“Please tell me you’re joking.” When you just stare up at him, he balks. “You guys have been all over each other since college.”

“What?!” You laugh. “No, we haven’t-”

“Oh, yes, you have,” Atsumu says, just as bewildered. “I couldn’t get a second alone with ya half the time!”

“That’s not the same!” You argue. “It wasn’t like this back then – I didn’t even know he liked girls like me until last night!”

“You didn’t ?” The twins say simultaneously. Sakusa joins you in eyeing them in concern.

“I don’t like when they do that,” He says, and you nod.

“Agreed.”

Osamu laughs in disbelief. “Y/n, Suna doesn’t look up from his phone unless there’s a thick girl in the room. You can’t have missed that.”

You think hard about that. Had you ever seen that? You don’t think that’s ever happened.

Then you remember last night, the way he’d only managed about ten minutes of conversation with Bokuto before pulling his phone out to doom scroll. You remember how he’d ignored everyone after that, how guilty you’d felt making him wait for you while you’d tried to meet a guy.

Is he always like that?

“I never noticed that…” You say, thinking. Atsumu hums.

“Yeah. I wonder why,” He says, smiling like he knows exactly why. You flush, catching his meaning.

“I don’t think I was up for consideration until last night,” You argue weakly. He just shrugs.

“Maybe not consciously,” He offers. “But he sure was quick t’ take over when things weren’t workin’ with that other guy.”

He was, you realize. He was quick to take over.

You truly believe Suna had never looked twice at you until last night. But that only makes your nerves tingle with extra strength when you think about how quickly he’d stepped in in Atsumu’s kitchen. How little time it had taken for things to change between you.

You swallow, suddenly warm. “You don’t think,” You start, fidgeting with the strings on his hoodie. “You don’t think we look a little silly together? Me and him?”

You’d tried so hard to let Suna’s reassurances be enough – you want so badly to just believe him and everything he says to you – but when he’s not here, your anxiety comes back. When he’s not here to distract you, to remind you, to tell you what’s on his mind and exactly what he thinks, it’s easy to fall back in on yourself. To remember what you look like on the outside, what people probably think when they see you next to him.

You had never been self-conscious about standing next to Suna Rintarou before, because there had been nothing between you before.

Now, you wonder if girls will approach him even with you there, because you’re not a threat to them.

“Oy,” Atsumu’s voice cuts through your thoughts, and you find him snapping his fingers annoyingly in your face. You realize Sakusa’s got two knuckles on your elbow, tapping lightly.

“Sorry,” You mumble, blinking up at Atsumu. “What?”

“I said ,” He rolls his eyes. “Yer outta yer mind if you think that.”

“You guys look good together,” Osamu says, nodding. “I’ve always thought so, even in high school.”

“Huh?” You laugh. “In high school?”

He just shrugs. “Even as friends, you look good. You were always a little innocent and sweet, and he was always rude as fuck. I had fun just watching you guys.”

Atsumu sighs heatedly but nods. “Yeah… Even though I was always mad he was takin’ you away from me, you guys were fun together. You were always shy, but not with him. You liked yellin’ at him.” He rolls his eyes. “Still mad about it, though.”

You laugh, watching Sakusa nudge him with a fond look in his eye. You turn to the man, the only one here that hadn’t known you or Suna before Osaka.

“What about you, Kiyoomi? If you saw me and Suna in the street, would you do a double-take?”

He blinks, sipping while he finds his words. “I think a lot of other people will, but you shouldn’t pay them any attention. People will assume things about you two, because that’s what people do.”

He meets your eyes. “But I would only look twice at you because Rintarou looks different when he’s around you. Less bored and unapproachable. And I think that’s kind of obvious, even to someone who doesn’t know him.”

You stare up at him, processing that. That a stranger might give the two of you attention not because of you, but because of Suna. That he might be different enough around you that a stranger would be able to see it.

You hadn’t noticed that, either.

What else hadn’t you noticed?

“Oh,” You say dumbly.

Osamu snickers. “Don’t think too hard with him. Suna’s a simple man, you know that.”

“Yeah,” You mumble, smiling to yourself when you remember how he’d refused to make things complicated this morning. “I guess he is.”

Atsumu’s watch beeps, and he jumps when he looks down at it. “Aw, shit! We’re gonna be late, Omi!” He latches onto Sakusa’s jacket and tugs him from the room, shouting back that ‘ this ain’t over!’ while Sakusa waves blankly back at you and Osamu.

You sigh, reaching for your purse where you’d left it on a box of coffee beans when you’d come it. “I better find something to cover this up,” You say, gesturing to your neck.

Osamu laughs, heading for the door. “Or don’t. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind seeing it after a hard day at work.”

You flush, staring down into your purse while Osamu leaves you to mull that over.

Working in your office today wouldn’t be so awful.

–

Around lunch, you get a text from him.

You’d managed to set most thoughts of him aside in order to take care of your daily administrative tasks, but you hadn’t been able to clear him out of your head entirely. In the middle of writing a promotional email, you remember how he’d said your name in your ear, and you’re stuck staring down at your keyboard in a daze until the nerves settle. And then again, when you’re taking weekly inventory in the storage room, your cheeks tingle with the memory of him grabbing them to shut you up, again and again. You have to clutch your clipboard to your chest then, ears ringing and face warm.

And now, after a productive hour of pretending Suna Rintarou hasn’t bled into every thought that crosses your mind, your phone buzzes on your desk. You don’t stop to wonder if it might be him, too concentrated on cross-checking your bank account with your ledger to remember that the person who texts you most often at this time is him.

Your eyes flick to the screen, and your pen falls from your fingers entirely on its own.

[1:07 PM]

Sunarin : i wouldnt be mad if you suddenly appeared in my shop in the next 30 minutes

You swallow, nerves buzzing in your veins as you lean back in your chair.

Be normal , you think. This could mean anything.

You : you just want food.

He responds immediately, like he always does, but it makes your fingers numb to think he’d been waiting for your text.

Sunarin : it’s the delivery girl more than the delivery that im interested in

Your stomach flips, and an Uber is called before you can really think twice about it. Osamu says nothing when you leave with red ears and your head bent, but you hear Haru and Mayuri giggling together as the door jingles closed behind you.

You : well you be sure to tell them that

You : they might give you a discount

Sunarin : now why in the world would i want a discount, y/n?

You ride all the way to the onigiri restaurant down the street from his shop with your face in your hands, another text waiting for you while you order.

[1:22 PM]

Sunarin : this would be a terrible time to find out you’ve been crushed under a really heavy box of coffee beans…

You laugh to yourself, running a hand down your face and feeling a bit delirious. This is all so new and weird, but the swoop in your stomach and the antsy tap of your foot on the floor while you wait for lunch is taking over all sense of reason.

You type out a response without thinking.

You : your delivery girl expects to be tipped well

And then you press a hand to your forehead, realizing how badly that had come out only after sending it.

Suna’s response is laced with amusement.

Sunarin : oh????????????????

Sunarin : okay??????????????????

Sunarin : i can certainly do that????

You : shut up

You : you shut up, suna rintarou

You : that was an accident

Sunarin : it sure as shit didnt read like one

You : im eating all of this food and leaving you to starve

Sunarin : wait no im actually hungry bro

You : do not BRO me after that, you insufferable idiot

Sunarin : you did that all on your own

You laugh in half-exasperation as you carry the takeout bag up the road and to his shop. When the door jingles, you barely have time to greet his long-time assistant, Suki, before the door to Suna’s office is being wrenched open. He pokes his head out, eyes finding yours.

You try to push down the rush of nerves that fill you when he smiles lazily at you.

“I see lunch is still uneaten.”

“Pending review,” You say, smiling at the receptionist. “Hey, Suki.”

“Hey, girl,” She says, spinning in her chair to beam up at you. When her eyes find your hickey, a smirk pulls at her lips. “Good night?”

Your ears warm, but before you can mumble a response, Suna calls out from across the room.

“I’d say it was more than good, but maybe that’s just my ego talking.”

Suki’s eyes bug out of her head, and she’s laughing behind her hand while you stomp across the shop to his office, ignoring the amused glances from his artists.

“Suna, you complete-”

“Yeah, yeah,” He cuts you off, ushering you into the room. “I’m an idiot and you want to kill me.”

You roll your eyes, pushing past him, but you barely have time to set the takeout bag on his desk before you’re being dragged around and pinned to the now-closed door.

“ Hi ,” He breathes, leaning down and pushing his mouth to yours without waiting for a response.

You shiver against him, mumbling into his kiss. “You got a thing for doors or something?”

He ignores you, clearly preoccupied. “Got plans tonight?”

Your head spins, but you manage to answer him while kissing him back. “No, why?”

“Good,” He smiles against you. “Can I come over?”

Your stomach flips excitedly. “I guess I can pencil you in.”

“Oh, you guess?” He cards his fingers through your hair, pulling you close. “Thought you just said you didn’t have plans.”

You shrug, lifting up on your tiptoes to push your lips against his. “Maybe I had plans to sleep. I’m mysteriously exhausted today.”

“I like sleeping,” He says easily, angling your head to kiss you more easily. “I sleep all the time. I’d make a great sleeping buddy.”

Your fingers tremble where they cling to his shirt. “You applying for the position?”

“Yes,” He nods, arm tight around your waist. “Is there an interview process? When can I expect to hear back?”

“You’re so stupid,” You break, laughing as you pull away. “So, so stupid.”

He just smiles and steadies you on your feet before dropping his hands from your waist, his green eyes twinkling with amusement. “So, how was Miya?”

You snort, leaning against the door while he moves to unpack your lunch. “Which one?”

“Oof,” He says, throwing you a sympathetic glance. “That’s brutal.”

“Sakusa told me he was there to help, and then he proceeded to not help .” You smile, following him to a little couch in the corner.

When you take a seat, Suna scoots close, closer than he’s ever sat before. He slides an arm around your waist and draws you in, passing you your food. Your nerves tingle when he presses a kiss to your temple and mumbles ‘ Thanks for lunch ’ before turning to unwrap his onigiri, and you squash it down, doing your best not to read into it.

“Sakusa, too?” He smiles, taking a bite. “You had the whole council.”

“The twins bullied me into admitting we had sex three times,” You say, trying to fight the warmth in your face as you eat. “And Atsumu tried to extract all the positions out of me, but I have my limits.”

He chokes briefly before clearing his throat. “The positions -” He shakes his head, reaching for his phone. You watch as he pulls up a brand new text thread with Sakusa. The first message he ever sends to the man is-

[1:31 PM]

Suna Rintarou : 50 bucks for the last position you fucked miya in

Your jaw drops, and you can’t help the smack you land on his shoulder. “That’s hyper-private!”

His phone buzzes.

Sakusa Kiyoomi : make it 100 and ill tell you his favorites

Suna throws his head back, laughing, and you can only shake your head with a smile. “Boys are so strange.”

Another text notification lights up his screen only a second later.

Miya 1 : tell that little rat shes disowned

“Oops, I got you in trouble,” Suna says, clearly pleased with the outcome.

You just roll your eyes, smiling when you imagine how Atsumu’s probably acting right now with Sakusa. “They’re good together, huh?”

“Oh, a hundred percent,” He says, replying to Atsumu quickly. “Sakusa’s the only one who can handle him.”

Your eyes flick away from his phone when he glances at you, because you just watched him type out the words ‘ thats my little rat youre talking about, fucker’ , and you’re not sure he wanted you to see that.

You catch Atsumu’s immediate ‘ oh????? ’ just before Suna’s turning his phone off and tossing it on the table. There’s a piece of you that’s dying to know how that conversation will go later.

“What else happened?” He asks, as though he hadn’t just outright claimed you to your best friend.

“Uh,” You fumble, trying to remember the events of the morning. “Samu joked that we were making up for lost time, and Tsumu said we’ve been all over each other since college,” You try, watching him carefully for a response.

It’s the only reason you catch the slight tinge that warms his face before he’s turning to reach into the takeout bag for more food.

“Mm,” He responds noncommittally, and you purse your lips to keep from smiling.

“Mm? That’s it?” You tease.

He passes you another rice ball, that tinge spreading gradually. “Not the first time I’ve heard that, is all.”

You lift a brow, surprised. “Oh, really?” You stare, holding your rice ball out in front of you with no sign of digging into it. Suna gives you a look out of the corner of his eye, one you can’t name.

“I apparently had a bit of a staring habit in college.” He blinks a few times before looking away, busying himself with unwrapping his rice ball and then reaching for yours to do the same. He meets your eyes briefly while you watch him. “Yeah, like that,” He jokes, gesturing at how your eyes track his every movement.

Your head is empty of everything, every intelligent thought you’ve ever had long gone. “Staring at what?” You watch his mouth quirk up in a smirk that knows far too much as he’s turning away from you. “At me ?”

“I didn’t realize it, either,” He says easily, taking a bite of his rice ball. “But I distinctly remember being yelled at by a girl at a party that I spent an hour chatting up before completely abandoning when you got there.”

You balk, remembering the exact moment he’s talking about. You’d thought that she had just misunderstood your relationship.

“But… why?”

He swallows, and you notice the color filling the tips of his ears. “I was, uh-” He clears his throat. You’ve never seen him so shy before. “-learning a lot about myself in college.”

It feels like the world is dropping out from under you, and the weighted flick of Suna’s green eyes to yours is the only thing anchoring you to him.

You’re not sure when you set the untouched onigiri down, but, while his gaze is flitting to the table before coming back to you, you’re reaching to ball up the front of his shirt and drag him to you.

When you kiss him, you realize you can feel his heart beating against your fist.

You make Suna Rintarou nervous.

Trying to recover – trying to steer clear of the reality that’s threatening to smack you in the face – you make a breathless argument, Suna’s lips warm on yours.

“Just a general realization, though, right?” You try, feeling his teeth dig lightly into your bottom lip. “Not about me specifically?”

He pushes his tongue against yours, lunch abandoned while he threads his fingers into your hair carefully and angles your head. “ Sure ,” He breathes. “We can say that.”

“ Suna ,” You chastise, feeling your resolve starting to melt away when he slips past the edge of his hoodie and slides his palm against your skin, fingers hot.

Suna hadn’t looked twice at you until last night. You’re functioning under that assumption. You can’t risk believing otherwise, and it’s not fair for him to lead you to another conclusion if it’s not true.

If you allow yourself to believe otherwise, then you might just let it ruin your friendship.

It can’t be true.

“I told you last night,” He sighs into your mouth, and you feel it fill your lungs with something you have tried all day to ignore. “You look like-”

-one of my college fantasies .

Your stomach flips and your fingers go numb against his chest.

He doesn’t mean what you think he means.

He can’t mean that.

Right?

“You… Uhm-” You swallow, feeling his mouth go still over yours. “You don’t mean that you would think about me when you…”

His breath is warm on your lips while he thinks of what to say.

“I didn’t want you to be upset,” He admits, his words a whisper against your skin.

There’s no way.

A memory passes, one of him laughing into your chest last night, complaining that he would only last five minutes, a giddy kind of excitement passing between you. How he’d jokingly offered to let you stay the night all week, his smile bordering on something real.

“I felt so bad for thinking of you like that.”

That excitement again this morning, when he’d whispered that he would undo everything and make it right, that he wants you to use him. How he’d pushed you up against the couch the moment you’d agreed to keep sleeping together.

You can only stare at his lips while he talks, eyes wide and heart pounding.

How quick he’d been to find you at the party, how you’d been quietly pleased that he would have been that quick even if he hadn’t given you a second thought before.

But he had. He had given you a second thought.

“I’m sorry,” He tries, searching your face. “It was only a few times, and I tried so hard not to,” He’s whispering his apologies quickly, mistaking your silence for anger that he’d kept that from you, when really, you’re trying to remember how to use your mouth to say something entirely different. “I was so ashamed of being disrespectful, and I didn’t want you to hate me,” He swallows, your empty stare heavy between you.

God, you wish so badly that you could go back in time and notice all the things you’re only noticing now. All the times he’d looked at you differently or maybe even considered making a move.

You wish so badly that it hadn’t taken this long for things to change.

You really want to ruin this friendship.

“But you were so pretty, even back then, and- the first time was an accident, I swear- you texted me while I was–” He flushes hard, and you almost feel the heat of it wash over you. “-and then all I could think about was your sweet little smile, and before I could stop it, I was-”

“Suna,” You breathe, cutting him off. Your heart is beating in your ears, and your skin burns where his hand sits on your waist. Your head is filled with a funny little buzzing, one that makes it impossible to think or see anything except for how he’s looking at you, his lip ring pulled nervously between his teeth. “You better be very careful.”

He blinks, brows furrowed as he stares down at you.

Your heart is so loud in your ears.

“I might fall for you if you’re not, Rin.”

You feel when he stops breathing, his chest unmoving against your hand.

His eyes flick down to your lips, and you feel when the breath he’s holding leaves his lungs in a single, quick laugh.

“Y/n-”

There’s a knock at the door, one that shakes you enough to make you jump.

Suki peeks into the room, finding Suna half-draped over you, both of you red-faced and wide-eyed. She grins mischievously.

“Your 2 o’clock’s here, Boss.”

You’re painfully aware in that moment of being in Suna’s place of business.

You push him off of you, gathering the trash from your lunch quickly before rushing to the door. You laugh nervously at Suki as you go.

“I should call an Uber, huh? I didn’t realize how much time had passed. I gotta get back to work.” You barely notice her knowing grin while you throw the trash out and make a beeline for the door.

Suna catches up to you, following you out to the street after throwing a quick ‘ I’ll be back in just a second- ’ to his client.

“Y/n-” He pulls you back to him, breathless. “Man, you really love to run, don’t you?”

You laugh, feeling delirious as you rub at your brow. “Well, you just admitted that you used to jerk off while thinking of me in college, and then your assistant caught us in a compromising position, so-”

He laughs back, the tone of it matching how insane you feel. “Christ-”

He shakes his head before pulling you in the direction of his car where it’s parked on the street a few feet away. He fishes in his front pocket and then presses his key into your palm. “Take it. Don’t waste money on an Uber.”

You stare down at the key and then up at him. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll come get you later, then, if you still want to stay the night.” He blinks then, clearly surprised by that. “Okay.”

You stare a moment longer and then nod, turning toward his car and walking away. “Okay. See you.”

“Okay.”

You hear the door jingle when he heads inside.

You sit in his car for the ten minutes it takes your fingers to regain feeling.

Your phone buzzes in the middle console, and, when you glance at it, your fingers go numb once more.

[2:13 PM]

Sunarin : i was being careful before

Sunarin : but now i dont want to

You let your forehead fall against the steering wheel, every nerve ending in your body malfunctioning.

“ Fuck ,” You whisper.

Fuck.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu #suna rintarou #suna rintarou smut #suna texts

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ladyinwriting18 · 11 months

Text

The Start Of Something New (Bruce BannerxReader)

Summary: Meeting you sparks something new for Bruce AND Hulk.

Words: 5,852 Warnings: Sex on the first date, PIV, Oral sex (female receiving), Hulk is a flirt, Only sex with Bruce tho.

When Tony had handed over the username and password to a newly made dating profile, Bruce had been very confused, and honestly, a tad reluctant.

However, after being hounded by his best friend to just give it a try, he gave in. The first few swipes had gone horribly. Most women unmatched with him after the first few messages. Or worse, they knew he was in the Avengers and had some sort of weird fetish about it. That is until he matched with you. Sweet, funny, beautiful, hard-working you.

You were like a meteor that knocked him out of orbit.

Something different than anything he had experienced with other partners. Messaging back and forth in the app had quickly turned into an exchange of numbers. Texting with you had been easier because it gave Bruce time to analyze his responses, but hearing your laugh while talking on the phone? God, he was certain there was no better sound. You were so open and honest that communicating came naturally. Which wasn’t something he was used to after his failed relationship with Natasha. He pushes those thoughts from his mind and instead focuses on nervously pacing outside of the Aquarium. After a month of good morning texts and late-night phone calls—today is the day. The day the two of you would finally meet in person and go on your first real date. You two had shared coffee over Facetime a few times, but to Bruce those weren’t dates. This would decide if you’d want to continue communicating. And though you made him feel at ease whenever the two of you spoke, the thought of fucking it all up weighs heavily on him. Bruce checks his watch for the fifth time before catching sight of his reflection in the glass exterior of the building. He fixes his hair while giving himself a pep talk. “Come on, Bruce. You’ve got this. Don’t overthink it, just be yourself.” Your Uber pulls up just as he finishes his words of affirmation. He quickly straightens his back and turns to see you just as you step out of the car. You’re wearing the prettiest little sundress that sways softly in the summer breeze. He gulps. You look perfect. Jogging over to you, he holds out his hand to help you up onto the curb. “Hey!” He closes the car door behind you with a nervous smile, “T-thanks for coming. You look amazing.”

You can tell that Bruce is nervous and it warms your heart. Little does he know that you feel similar. Not only is he a brilliant scientist, but he has saved the world multiple times…what right do you have to spend time with him? You try not to let your insecurities show and squeeze his hand, not only as a comfort to him, but for you as well. “Aw Bruce, thank you. That’s so sweet of you to say.” You let yourself size him up before quirking your head to the side. “You look rather handsome.” His cheeks flush, though he tries to hide it by talking about where he’s chosen to take you for your date.

“I was glad to hear that you enjoy the aquarium.” He keeps your hand in his as he steers you towards the entrance. “I thought it would be the perfect place to bring a so-fish-ticated woman like yourself.” Bruce laughs at his own dad joke before rubbing his face in embarrassment. Tony had told him to keep the dumb jokes at a minimum. But then his ears perk up at the sound of you giggling and a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. Just like the first time he heard you laugh over the phone, he’s instantly put at ease, “Thank you for not clam-ming up at my terrible humor.” You giggle harder, your free hand coming up to grip his bicep. “Your humor is not terrible!” you lightly scold as you approach the first tank of colorful fish. They instantly capture your attention. “Wow, they’re all so beautiful!” Your hand on Bruce’s bicep feels so warm. He can’t stop himself from staring at your reflection in the glass—you look good together.

“Which one is your favorite?” he asks to stop himself from planning out an entire future with you. It’s too soon for that. Especially when there are so many variables that could mess things up. You tilt your head to the side, taking a moment to respond, “Hmmm, probably this one.” You point to a fish with a blend of blue and purple scales.

He nods and looks at the corresponding identification card printed next to the tank.

“Oh look here, that one is native to Wakanda. The scales are used to produce important and sustainable fertilizer for their diverse agricultural offerings.” He realizes he’s rambling, and looks to you wide-eyed. “Sorry, I tend to ramble when I get excited.” You smile and turn to face him fully. “There’s nothing to apologize for. You’re so smart, Bruce. I could listen to you talk for hours.” Sheepishly, he rubs the back of his neck. He can’t deny that the praise feels good but he feels undeserving. “I mean I only read what the identification card says,” he deflects with a teasing grin, hoping the joke would hide his insecurities. You cock your hip before playfully swatting at his upper arm. There’s such a fire in you. Bruce adores it. “You know what I mean, Doctor Banner. Now, show me which fish is your favorite?” Your curiosity about his interests has him lighting up. He doesn’t hesitate to pull you over to another tank. “My favorite is right over here.” Dropping your hand, he instead comes to stand behind you. With one hand on your waist and the other pointing out the fish. He hadn’t meant to tuck you so perfectly against him, but he did, and now he doesn’t ever want to move away. The smell of your shampoo and perfume mix together, leaving him totally captivated. It takes all his restraint to keep talking and not bury his face into your hair.

“That’s the puffer fish, or Tetraodontidae. They have this defense mechanism, so basically, when they are threatened, they can expand to over double their size. I guess I have a soft spot for them.”

You find yourself leaning back against his chest as you listen to his explanation. His reasoning not only makes perfect sense but shows you how insightful he can be. “I can understand why. It’s almost like you and Hulk.” You turn your head to meet his gaze. It’s only then that you both realize just how close you’ve both become. Bruce can’t help but notice that his lips are inches from yours. “Yes. It’s like me and Hulk.” His voice comes out huskier than he intends. There’s a tension building. One that’s begging to break free. All either one of you would have to do is close the last remaining inches, but before you can, Bruce’s watch beeps. It breaks the trance and has you both stepping back from one another. He checks his watch and silences the alarm. “Shoot, we have to hurry. There’s something I need to show you!” Without another word, he takes your hand and starts leading you to another part of the aquarium. There’s a bounce in his step as he walks you to the big surprise. His whole reason for picking the aquarium for your first date is because on your dating profile, you had written that your favorite animals are otters. Bruce had tucked this piece of information away until he needed it. He had painstakingly looked for an aquarium that not only had an otters exhibit but gave people the chance to pet them. He couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when you found out. But when you both turn the corner you are instead faced with a giant sign that reads “Exhibit Closed for Renovation”. His heart drops and the blood in his veins starts to boil. He had checked the website! Had planned the entire date around this! “The website said it was going to be open!” he grits out as the hand not holding yours clenches into a fist. He feels Hulk beneath his skin, tugging to be let out. Bruce tries to suppress the feeling, but his chest begins to heave. Things have been better between them. No longer did he treat Hulk as a monster but as a part of him. Bruce made space for him in his home and life, which led to them not needing to fight one another for control. Instead, they attempted to live side by side. However, this is different. It mirrors a time when even the slightest inconvenience would trigger the Hulk. The tips of his ears and fingers prickle to a subtle shade of green. “This isn’t fair. Now everything is ruined!” He lets out a low growl and grips the hand he’s holding until you wince. You don’t have time to respond before you’re forced to rip your hand out of his grasp. That’s when you notice the color of his fingertips. Not knowing what to do to help, but not willing to abandon him, you step in front of him and cup his face. “Bruce? I need you to look at me. Nothing is ruined.” As you talk, you maneuver him backward until you’re both tucked away in a corner close to an emergency exit. You figure this is the best place for him to be if he did in fact lose control. Unfortunately, Bruce doesn’t respond. Instead, he tucks his chin to his chest and continues to breathe heavily. You say his name with a little more force, but still, nothing. He’s too preoccupied with the fury bubbling in his stomach. It causes tendrils of anger to spread through his limbs. Your words are muffled and your touch is hot. All his internal attempts to calm himself are destroyed by the deep seeded anger and self-loathing.

“This always happens. I can’t do anything right. Everything is ruined.” You’re more panicked now, it’s evident in your tone. “Forget about the otters! I don’t care. Please, Bruce, I’m just happy to be here with you!” What do you do? How do you break him from this spell? You needed him to focus on the good! An idea pops into your mind and before you have a chance to think it over…you do it. You grip his face, jerking it towards you, and kiss him—hard on the mouth. Your arms encircle his neck, putting your all into the kiss and trembling slightly. All you can do is pray your plan works and he kisses you back. For Bruce, his world stops spinning and time stands still. The kiss is enough to bring him back to the present. His heart rate settles and his skin tone reverts to normal, but his eyes are shut tight. He can’t kiss you back, not like this. Not when you were only kissing him for your safety. So he gently pushes you away. “T-Thank you…for that but I’m…I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have had to…do that just to shut me up.” His words confuse you and you speak over him before he can continue, “I didn’t do it to shut you up! I did it because I wanted to and because I thought giving you something happy to think about would help.” You lose your nerve, faltering momentarily. “I…I’m sorry if I was wrong. I shouldn’t have kissed you without your consent.” Bruce’s brow furrows and he finally meets your gaze again. “Wait, you wanted to kiss me?” You nod in earnest and he smiles. He brings his hand to cup your cheek. “You were so brave and strong. I can’t thank you enough for being here for me.” You relax into his touch, letting your face rest in his palm. You’re so beautiful and sweet. It makes Bruce long for things he hasn’t allowed himself to want. “I’m also sorry for assuming you were kissing me out of pity. I guess I just couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to kiss…that.” He motions behind him, to where the Hulk had almost been standing.

You tilt your head to the side, giving him a questionable look. “The Hulk is just a part of you. I know you’re used to people being afraid of him, but I’m not. I would kiss you, him, and anything else in between.” His cheeks twinge pink. Someone kissing Hulk? That wasn’t something Bruce could even fathom, but the feeling of his pulse skipping a beat tells him that his green counterpart is excited by the offer. Nervously, he chuckles at the realization. “W-Why don’t we take things one step at a time?” He says this not only to you but to appease Hulk into calming down. You take his hand and nod in agreement. The touch sends tingles from his palm and up his arm, making him feel bold. “Can I…I mean, may I kiss you? For real this time?” You nod with a smile and Bruce closes the distance between you. The kiss is soft and chaste but he can still taste the sweetness of your mouth. He hums at the taste but pulls away before he loses himself. “There’s one more thing I wanted to show you.” He extends his hand to you. “Come with me?” You take it and let him lead you to the back of the aquarium. He leads you past countless tanks of exotic fish until you come to a dark room. So dark that it’s almost pitch black, but quickly your eyes adjust, revealing tanks filled with various-sized jellyfish. You gasp at how delicate they are, their subtle glow showing their translucence. Their bodies pushing and pulling them through the water in an almost intricate dance.

“Did you know that jellyfish are the world's oldest animal?” You shake your head ‘no’, transfixed on the tanks before you but soaking in his words like a sponge. “Scientists have found fossils indicating they preceded dinosaurs. I think they're magical.” You’re alone in this small dark space, and Bruce steps closer to whisper into your ear. “I think you’re pretty magical too.”

You gasp and turn towards him, whispering his name just before he captures your lips in another kiss. He’s more confident now, pulling you closer by your waist and gripping your hips tightly. You make out like teenagers, anxious and hungry for more. He whimpers at how good you feel and you can’t help but shudder against him in response. Your hands slide up to wrap around his broad shoulders. You feel safe in his arms so you push your body flush against him. He responds in turn, opening his mouth so that your tongues can touch. You’re so turned on that you’re certain you’ll combust, but he breaks the kiss. He’s breathing hard, clearly attempting to calm his heart rate. You give him space to do so and instead lace your fingers with his. He smiles his thanks before speaking. “How about on the way out, we take you to the gift shop so I can buy you a stuffed otter to make up for not being able to see the real ones?” You nod in excitement until it clicks that the date will be ending soon. “I would love that, but…what if after, I didn’t want to go home? What if I wanted to go home with you?” It takes Bruce a few moments to process exactly what you’re asking, but once it does his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “Yes! Uh…I mean, I would be honored.” The gift shop, walking to his car, and the drive to his home go by in a blur. One minute, you were asking him to take you home, and the next, you were holding a stuffed otter in your lap as he opened the car door for you.

You smile at the gesture, letting him help you out of his car, and walking up the front steps to his home. Little do you know, Bruce is holding his breath in hopes that he hadn’t left his home a mess before leaving. He sighs in relief after unlocking the door and seeing that the house is relatively clean. You step forward, taking in your surroundings, but his eyes are taking in your body. He imagines taking you to his bed and undressing you slowly. You move about his home, having no idea he was undressing you with his eyes. “You have a lovely home, Bruce. Most guy’s homes are…well…gross.” You giggle to yourself before placing your otter on the couch. He says your name in a way that make the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. It sounds hot…needy…sexual. You turn to him, and like the opposite ends of two magnets, you’re pulled together–crashing into each other. No longer able to resist, your hands grope and mouths meet. You want to beg for more but he’s already hoisting you up by the waist and carrying you down the hall. You don’t know where he’s taking you, and frankly, you don’t care as long as he keeps kissing you.

He stumbles while pushing open his bedroom door with his foot, but quickly regains his stride over to his bed so he can carefully lay you down. Your hair fans out along his pillows and he sighs. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

Hearing him curse has you biting your bottom lip. You grip his shirt and tug him towards you until he’s leaning over you. “I want you, Bruce. I’ve wanted you since the first time we talked on the phone.” He nearly chokes at your confession because he’s certain he had made an utter fool of himself on that phone call. “Please…” Your plea breaks him from his thoughts as your fingers start working on unbuttoning his shirt. “Please don’t make me wait anymore.” Shit. Shit. Shit. This was happening. This was really about to happen. Bruce’s cock jumps within the confines of his pants. “I won’t, Princess. I won’t make you wait.” His words are rushed, breathless as trembling fingers work on unzipping your sundress. “I’ve been wanting you too.” You’re both rushing to get one another naked now. His shirt. Your dress. His pants. Your bra. His cock is freed from his boxers and Bruce sighs with relief. You blush at the sight of how hard and thick he is. It would fill you up so perfectly. He looks at you with the same amount of desire in his gaze. Your nipples harden under that gaze, causing his cock to throb. And then he’s on you, crawling over your body so he can cage you beneath him. He can’t help himself from kissing his way down your chest and stomach, pausing only when he gets to the waistband of your lace panties. “May I?”

He doesn’t need to ask, but the fact that he does warms your heart. You nod, giving your consent, and he hooks two fingers under the lace. You lift your hips, making it easier for your panties to be pulled down your legs. Once free of them, you let your legs fall away to reveal your cunt to him. You blush, knowing you’re already wet with slick. “Your kisses have been making me wet all afternoon,” you whisper, embarrassed. Bruce perks up at this information, letting a finger trace along your folds. “Wow, really? All afternoon?” You nod, your face feeling hot. “I love that you’re this wet for me.” He turns his head so he can leave kisses along your inner thigh. “I want to taste,” he groans, hungry for it. So hungry that he dives his face between your thighs, licking from your slit to your clit. He moans as the taste and scent of your cunt fill his senses. You moan at the feeling of his tongue alternating between licking your clit and slipping his tongue inside. Each time, your inner walls clench around the muscles of his tongue. “Oh God, y-you’re so good with your mouth!” you pant, starting to buck your hips. Lewdly, he devours your wetness, grunting against your flesh. His arms wrap around your thighs and pull you forward so your cunt is smashed against his face. He turns his focus on your clit, eagerly sucking on it. He’s so turned on by the noises you’re making and the taste on his tongue that he can’t stop himself from rutting into the mattress to get some relief. “I want you to cum on my face,” he declares suddenly, as if the idea just popped into his head and he couldn’t stop himself from saying it out loud. “Can you do that for me?” You find that you can only nod as the pleasure steadily builds throughout your limbs. “Here, let me try this,” he says as he slips his middle finger into your awaiting hole. Instantly, you grind down on it, crying out his name when he starts fingering you harder. His mouth returns to your clit, swirling his tongue over it to drive you closer and closer to the edge. And damn are you close to that edge. You scream for him, tell him how good he’s making you feel. He doesn’t let up, and without warning, your back is arching off the bed as you cum all over his face, just like he wanted you to. He works you through your aftershocks, licking up every drop of cum that spills out of you until your body slumps back onto the bed. It’s only then that he eases his finger out and sits back on his knees. “That…was incredible,” he pants with a light chuckle and then leans over you once more to leave a kiss on your temple. “Thank you for that, Princess.” You practically purr at the nickname. Usually, names like that give you the ick, but Bruce saying it gives you butterflies. “I love it when you call me that. I like being your Princess.” You hook a leg around his waist, beckoning him closer so his cock is nestled against the cleft of your cunt. He whimpers, grinding his erection against you. He wants to be inside you, wants to fuck you hard and deep, but he needs to slow down. “W-Wait, wait,” he pleads, holding your hips firm in an attempt to keep you both in place. “We…We need to talk first.” Something about his tone gives you pause. “What’s the matter?”you ask, giving him your full attention. Bruce worries at his bottom lip, wanting to say the right thing. “I don’t want to scare you but…sometimes…uh, when I cum, I turn a little…green.” A blush works its way up from his neck. “If you catch my drift.” You sit up, more intrigued than afraid, but the man before you misunderstands and continues on nervously. “You have n-nothing to worry about, I promise you. I would never let anything happen to you.” You silence him by pressing a finger to his lips. “I’m not afraid. Not of you or of him. I want to make you cum.” Your hand drops, replacing it with your lips, whispering against his mouth. “I want to make you both cum.”

Your acceptance of him and his other half stirs an animalistic lust from deep within him. When he moves on top of you, it feels as if it’s in tandem with Hulk. They had never moved as one before. Had never wanted the same thing so completely as they do now.

Bruce kisses you roughly, tongues rolling along one another while their bodies grind. He aligns his cock with your opening, moaning in between your kisses. “Is that what the sweet girl wants? To make us cum so hard that we turn for you?” His voice is deeper, with pupils blown wide with lust. His words have your heart racing, and although this is your first time in Bruce’s bed…something tells you it’s both he and Hulk who would be fucking you tonight. You push your forehead against his and nod eagerly. If he was going to speak, it’s cut off by the growl that bubbles up from his throat. He’s completely overtaken by his feral alter ego, and in one fell swoop, sheathes his cock fully inside of you. You yelp, tensing at the sudden intrusion, but damn does he fill you up. However, the sound seems to bring Bruce back into himself. “S-Shit, I’m sorry. Are you alright?”

You feel him starting to pull out of your heat. “Don’t!” you cry, wrapping your legs around him to keep him in place. “D-Don’t stop, Bruce. You feel so good. Please don’t stop.”

He nods, relieved that he hasn’t hurt you, and starts rolling his hips. “Mmhh, you feel good too. So tight.” But his slow pace doesn’t last long. His hands push your legs away, giving him space to pull out and then slam back in. You both throw your heads back, swearing loudly at the first deep thrust. Your walls had clenched so perfectly around his length so he pulls out and does it again. The drag of his thick cock along your walls is making you gush. You scream his name and claw at his back. You can’t seem to focus on anything but the hard pounding rhythm of his cock. Bruce bows his head and starts kissing, biting and sucking at your breasts. He does so as passionately as he had eaten your cunt, making you wonder if he has a slight oral fixation when it comes to sex. Not that you mind. You’ll wear the marks he’s leaving on your breasts with pride.

A hand reaches between your legs to find your clit and rub firm circles on it. You arch into his touch and thrusts, trying to meet both. It causes a wet slapping noise to fill the room as he ruts into you.

Every thrust brings a flush of green across Bruce’s broad back. But he can’t cum. Can’t turn.

He needs to make you cum and he needs to keep you safe. But his control is slipping the closer his orgasm becomes. “A-Am I making you feel good, Princess?” You don’t hesitate to moan your reply in between desperate pants, “Yes, fuck yes! G-Getting close. More Bruce. Fuck m-me more, make me cum!” Any momentary self-consciousness fades at the sight of you falling apart. He gives you exactly what you need and cracks his hips faster, harder, rougher, while keeping firm pressure on your clit. It has your muscles tightening, that feeling of sweet release just within reach. His movements become sloppy, unable to keep away his own orgasm for much longer. But you’re too close to cumming to notice or care. “Cum for me, Princess. I…I need you to cum with me.” His words are all you need to come crashing over the edge. Your orgasm rocks you to your core, the entire time chanting his name like he’s your own personal God. Your inner walls pulse around every throbbing inch of his cock, coaxing him to reach his own peak.

His back contorts and green flashes down his arms and legs as he cums, filling you with it as he screams, sounding more monster than man. Was he about to…turn?

You don’t have time to react, because as quickly as it started, Bruce collapses on top of you. You’re honestly too stunned to react but the sound of a whimper breaks you from it. “Bruce?” Your arms come around him so you can stroke his back and hair. “Are you alright?”

It takes him a few minutes of heavy breathing before he’s able to lift his head.” I-I’m okay. Could we just…lay here for a little while?” He sounds exhausted and lost. It tugs at your heartstrings. “Of course, for as long as you need,” you whisper, allowing your fingers to delicately trace over the lines of his back. For a long while, you lay together with his cock still nestled inside you. Not that you mind, it feels right being close to him. When he’s ready, Bruce slowly props himself up and slips out of you before looking you in the eye. He sheepishly thanks you, looking rather flustered. “I’m uh…sorry if I scared you earlier…you just felt so good and he…” Bruce trails off, clearly too embarrassed to continue, so you sit up and cup his cheek so he looks at you. “You have nothing to apologize for. You made me cum so hard. I’d let you fuck me over and over again if you wanted to.” He visibly perks up at that and can’t stop the boyish grin from spreading across his features. You grin back. “I guess I made him feel good too…if he was fighting to break out.” He takes a calming breath and runs a hand through his hair. “He uh…still does.”

“Really??” You sound shocked but intrigued. “Do you…uh want to let him out? I wouldn’t mind meeting him.” Bruce hesitates, not knowing if letting Hulk out is a good idea, but then he looks back at you. His eyes roam over your beautiful naked body that is now sitting back against the headboard.

An image of you relaxing in his bed every morning from now until the end of time flashes through his mind. But it isn’t just his fantasy…it’s Hulk’s. “Well…he does think you’re pretty.” “Really? He told you that?” You blush, biting your bottom lip, and Bruce can’t help but chuckle at how adorable you look. “It’s more like a feeling, but yes, in a way.” You nod in understanding and wait for his final say on the matter. “Okay, you and Hulk can meet,” he agrees, and you happily squeal. “I’ll see you in the morning?” “In the morning,” you repeat, and Bruce leans in to give you another kiss before standing. He makes his way over to his dresser and pulls out a clean pair of boxers that are enhanced to stretch to Hulk’s size. “Now, if anything goes wrong, don’t hesitate to use my phone and call Tony,” he says over his shoulder while slipping the boxers on. “Call Tony, got it! But everything will be fine,” you reassure as you reach over the side of the bed to grab your underwear, and Bruce’s discarded shirt and put them on. When you look back at him, he’s facing away from you with his back rounded. He groans as loudly as he did when he came but is undoubtedly pained. Green muscles ripple out from his spine, up his neck, and down his limbs. You watch amazed as he doubles in size right before your eyes. He sways for a moment before gaining his footing and turning around to face you. Your breath catches in your throat at the realization that the famous Hulk is standing in front of you. “H-Hi there. I’m–”

“HULK KNOWS.” His deep booming voice cuts you off. “You do?” Hulk nods. “YOU’RE PRETTY LADY.” The pet name makes you giggle and move closer to him but still remain perched on the edge of the bed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Your eyes roam over him, wondering what being held in his arms would feel like. “Is…Is this where you sleep too? Or do you have your own room?” You use the questions as a way to distract your mind from thinking about his touch. He scrunches his green nose up in distaste, “BANNER’S MATTRESS TOO LUMPY. HULK HAS BIGGER BED.” He points down the hall to where the home’s second bedroom is. “PRETTY LADY WANT TO SEE HULK’S ROOM?”

“I would love that.” You smile and he holds out his hand for you to take. You do so, and with more gentleness than should have been capable of someone his size, he helps you out of bed and leads you to his room. However, the entire way, your eyes stayed glued on Hulk–memorizing and taking in the parts of him that were still innately Bruce. With your tiny hand in his massive one, he steps inside his bedroom, no longer needing to crouch down because the ceiling is higher now. The walls are covered with photos and newspaper clippings of the Avengers and their families. You smile, it’s endearing to see that he has a soft side. Hulk flops down on the extra-large mattress with a smirk, stealing your attention away from the photographs. “HULK’S ROOM BETTER. BED SOFTER AND BETTER FOR SNUGGLES.” He pats the spot next to him on the bed, silently inviting you over. You raise a brow in his direction.

You couldn’t believe it…he was flirting with you. Boldly flirting with you at that! As if he already knew he had you right where he wanted… Those green eyes look at you like the alpha of a pack, ready to lay beside his mate. Maybe Hulk wasn’t just Bruce’s rage personified but also his self-confidence with the opposite sex. Not having an answer, you decide to climb up and join him on the bed. If he wants to be a flirt, then so would you. You lay down beside him so you can rest your head on his rather huge bicep. “Mmhm, you’re right…much more comfortable.” You smirk up at him. Seeing the smug look on your face has him laughing, his frame rumbles with it. “PRETTY LADY LIKE HULK’S ARMS BETTER! BANNER WILL BE JEALOUS.”

You shake your head at his silliness. “I love both of your arms,” you lightly scold until you yawn without warning. “Shoot, sorry about that. I guess I’m more tired than I realized.”

Hulk shakes his head at your apology and lightly pats your head. “NO SORRY. PRETTY LADY SLEEP NOW.”

You nod, suddenly finding it difficult to stay awake. He pulls you in, letting you fully nestle against him.

“BANNER SAYS PRETTY LADY LIKES HAIR PLAYED WITH.”

At first, his words confuse you, but then you remember one late-night phone conversation when you told Bruce that having your hair played with always puts you right to sleep.

You smile at the memory, confirming Hulk’s words, and his fingers find their way into your hair. He gently strokes and pets, leaving you nearly purring.

Hulk chuckles under his breath but doesn’t stop the movement of his fingers. “PRETTY LADY SOUNDS LIKE KITTEN.”

“I guess that makes me Hulk’s kitten,” you mumble, trying to stifle another yawn.

“HULK’S KITTEN,” he repeats softly in agreement. “CLOSE YOUR EYES, KITTEN. HULK KEEP YOU SAFE FOR BANNER.”

Your half-lidded eyes finally fall shut.

It only takes another moment and you’re asleep.

Hulk watches you, not wanting sleep to overtake him, but it isn’t easy when he feels so relaxed with you in his arms. Eventually, exhaustion seeps in, winning him over. But just before he fully subcomes to sleep, both Hulk and Bruce share the same thought.

This would be the start of something new.

#lady in writing #bruce banner #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner x you #incredible hulk #hulk x reader #bruce banner smut #mark ruffalo #bruce banner fanfiction

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plumbaleena · 8 months

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Spice Up Your Sim's Calendar with Custom Seasonal Activities!

The Sims is boring AF right? Well, we have to always come up with creative ideas to make this game more interesting and THANKFULLY there are many mods to help us with that! However, you don't always have to have mods to make the game a little more fun, and here's one example of that! Calendar ideas!

🌼 S P R I N G

Calendar day ideas /

🌼 Egg hunt day / set up your calendar to have the cute little bouncy flower bunny come and celebrate while colorful eggs pop up around your home! Take spring pictures, dress in matching outfits and have a picnic outside!

T r a d i t i o n s / Egg hunt, flower bunny

🌼 Spring break / Take a week off with your family to go on a vacation, maybe to the beach, or even the woods for memories to last a lifetime.

T r a d i t i o n s / Go on a vacation or travel

🌼 Spring cleaning / Take time to clean your house, move some things around, get rid of things. Start fresh!

T r a d i t i o n s / Cleaning

🌼 Earth day / Plant some flowers, herbs or vegetables, tend to your garden, pick up trash and maybe go help someone else with their garden too.

T r a d i t i o n s / Gardening, cleaning

🌼 April fool's / Do mischief and silly things to other sims, maybe prank some toilets or buzz some hands, who knows maybe you'll find something about mischief that tickles your fancy.

T r a d i t i o n s / Mischief spirit

🌼 Mother's day / Have your littles make spring crafts for mom, help to make her breakfast, or serve up some tea or lemonade. Head over to her house for a visit if you're on your own and spend the day together maybe even go to the spa!

T r a d i t i o n s / Give flowers, give gifts, tell stories, thankful spirit

🌼 Spring fling/dance / Take your sims to a spring formal where you can dance the night away (preferably not the cowpoke) and dress in light pastels for sweet matching photos.

T r a d i t i o n s / Party spirit, art & music spirit

🌼 Flower festival / Head on over to a flower field, and give flowers to those you hold dear. Spend the day outside enjoying nature or putting a flower crown in your hair and soak in the sun while you take a stroll.

T r a d i t i o n s / Give flowers

🌼 Love/Valentine's day / Take your loved one on a date to a romantic spot you wouldn't normally go. Make sure to enjoy each other's company and no phones allowed! Slow dance under the moonlight, or steal a kiss under the stars. Don't have someone? Make it a gal/palentines day instead! Enjoy spending time with your favorite friends watching movies, having popcorn or even indulging in a pillow fight.

T r a d i t i o n s / Go on a date, [or if single, invite guests], romantic spirit, watch romantic tv

🌼 Daddy/Daughter dance / Take your little princess to a dance she'll never forget. Dress up in matching colors and treat her like she's the queen for the day! Take lots of pictures to forever remember that special day.

T r a d i t i o n s / Art & music spirit

🌴 S U M M E R

Calendar day ideas /

🌴 Father's day / Celebrate good old dad with some summer crafts, a bbq, and a hang out by the pool. Toss a football around, maybe kick back a few EAPA's and have a day to remember with your pops.

T r a d i t i o n s / Bar-B-Que, drinking, give gifts, tell stories, thankful spirit

🌴 Summer vacation / Take a week off with the family to the beach and celebrate the summer while the kids are out of school and enjoy times in the sand, swimming in the ocean, and even catching some fish!

T r a d i t i o n s / Go on a vacation or travel

🌴 Slip 'n Slide day / Take the fun of the sun outside and enjoy a day full of water! Head over to the water park in San Sequoia, or bring it home with a splash pad and water balloons. Spend all day in your bathing suit and maybe even...streak?

T r a d i t i o n s / Water fun, streak? ;)

🌴 Sulani/festival day / Find out when your local festivals are happening for Sulani and/or Mt. Komorebi and visit them on these days to celebrate the culture of the world. You won't want to miss the turtle hatching or festival of lights!

T r a d i t i o n s / Go on a vacation or travel, fireworks

🌴 Summer camp / Have your kids head off to "summer camp" where they can go somewhere off the lot for a week or two and enjoy what it feels like when they're in school! Create a camp for them to attend and bring them back into the house after a week or two, unless they're homesick. Then bring them back sooner.

T r a d i t i o n s / Go on a vacation or travel

🌴 Family camping trip / Head off to Granite Falls and enjoy camping with the family. Really rough it together and only bring tents, bug spray, and some food and water. See who lasts the longest without a comfy bed.

T r a d i t i o n s / Go on a vacation or travel

🌴 Simchella/Music fest / Enjoy Simchella for your sims to head to a music festival in Oasis Springs and have the time of their lives!

T r a d i t i o n s / Art & music spirit, drinking

🎃 F A L L

Calendar day ideas /

🎃 Neighborhood potluck / Throw a party and have your neighbors bring food to share for a neighborhood potluck. Share stories, drinks, and company as the leaves start to change for the season.

T r a d i t i o n s / Invite guests, tell stories, party spirit

🎃 Trick or treating / Bring your littles to a special trick or treat neighborhood where you can enjoy candy and perfect spots for pictures!

T r a d i t i o n s / Spooky spirit, trick or treat, wear costumes

🎃 Day of the dead / Make your departed loved one's favorite foods, dance to their favorite music, talk about them with family members and enjoy the memories you had with them. If you can go visit them, bring a candle or a small token to put at their resting place in remembrance.

T r a d i t i o n s / Remembrance

🎃 Family pumpkin carving / Invite family and friends over to sip cider and carve pumpkins! Set up stations and have a contest, and when they're all done display them at the front door for all of the welcome wagon to see.

T r a d i t i o n s / Invite guests, spooky spirit, sports tv

🎃 Visiting the pumpkin patch / A perfect place to go and take pictures, pick the perfect pumpkin, and enjoy the crisp weather is at a pumpkin patch! Visit the local pumpkin patch for all of this, and more.

T r a d i t i o n s / Go on a vacation or travel, thankful spirit

🎃 Bonfire night / Have a giant bonfire for all of your friends to celebrate the last of warm and longer nights. Enjoy drinks, roasting marshmallows and singing songs while reminiscing about how fast time goes by.

T r a d i t i o n s / Fire, tell stories, thankful spirit

❄️ W I N T E R

Calendar day ideas /

❄️ Welcoming Winter / This day is when there's the first snow! Head outside, build a snowman, make a snow angel, bake a warm pie, or stay inside and cozy up by the fire and read a book. Nothing is more special than welcoming winter.

T r a d i t i o n s / Baking, fire, festive spirit

❄️ Winter holiday / Take a vacation to Mt. Komorebi and enjoy the slopes where you can try skiing or snowboarding for the first time! If you're not feeling adventurous head over to the bathhouse and steam up in the sauna.

T r a d i t i o n s / Go on a vacation or travel, festive spirit

❄️ Winterfest Eve / Celebrate with the family the day before Winterfest. Have a special dinner, sing songs, maybe open a present or two, and have a great evening. Dress in red and green for beautiful pictures!

T r a d i t i o n s / Attend a holiday ceremony, festive lighting, festive spirit, give gifts, grand meal, invite guests, open presents

❄️ Present wrapping/buying / Take a day to go and buy gifts for your loved ones, and make sure you take the time to get something for each person as everyone is unique! Think about checking plopsy, or maybe your little one wants the latest gaming console!

T r a d i t i o n s / Festive spirit

❄️ Go see the giant tree and ice skate / Winterfest is never complete without visiting an ice skating rink or sipping on some hot cocoa while it snows. Take a day to go and see the beautiful Winterfest trees and ice skate to capture the true magic of the season.

T r a d i t i o n s / Festive spirit

❤️ Mods to enhance your calendar /

more holiday icons by littlemssam

random holiday traditions by littlemssam

custom holiday traditions by kiarasims

summer camp by adeepindigo

#the sims 4 #the sims 4 calendar #the sims 4 seasons #the sims 4 seasonal activities #ts4 #ts4 simblr #the sims 4 gameplay #ts4 screenshots

148 notes · View notes

heich0e · 1 year

Text

leave the light on - miya osamu/f!reader (haikyuu!) part 10 in the bff!osamu series tags: childhood friends to lovers, tw instant coffee mention, miscommunication, confessions, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!

Onigiri Miya closes early on Sunday nights.

It’s not for lack of business—the shop would certainly take in enough revenue to justify staying open regular hours an extra day per week, especially on a weekend. But in the early days of Onigiri Miya, when it was just a one-man show, Osamu needed at least one night that he could count on having off. The workweek business—office workers and students going through their routine hustle and bustle—kept him going, enough so that Sunday nights weren’t a make or break for him, and he was able to start shuttering in the early afternoon once per week.

He remembers those early days. Sweet talking vendors to bring down the cost of produce and haggling with the grubby, bleary eyed men at fish market stalls at the crack of dawn for a deal on the catch of the day. Promising suppliers that he’d be able to get them their money in a couple of weeks if they’d just give him some more time. Standing on the road, because Onigiri Miya was just a street stall back then, trying to coax people in and try his food. To convince them to take a chance on him. He remembers burns on his hands and cuts on his fingers and an ache in his bones that ran so marrow-deep he forgot what it felt like to not be so sore. Sunday nights were the only night he had to relax. The only night he had to sit down, to take off his hat, and to have a beer—or, even more frequently, pass out on his couch in his uniform at 8pm and sleep right through to his alarm the next morning.

Closing early on Sundays had been your idea, way back when— suggested to him gently while he rested with his head in your lap in your tiny student apartment after another 16 hour workday. He still remembers the worry in your eyes as you brushed his hair back from his tired face.

Nowadays things aren’t so hectic. Osamu’s got a good team of people around him to help Onigiri Miya run smoothly—a team who he trusts and values. It doesn’t all fall onto his shoulders in the same way that it used to: he doesn’t have to be there for every open and every close, his bills are paid, he’s not fighting to lure people in off the street just in the hope that he can scrape by for another week.

Now when he closes early on Sunday, it’s more for the sake of his staff than anything else. Occasionally Osamu will take the night off, too; he’ll go home and catch up on housework, run an errand or two, or even grab dinner—usually with you, though evidently not so much lately. But most Sundays he stays behind after his last employee heads out for the night; locking up behind them, switching off the sign in the window to tell the world the shop is closed, and then holing himself up in his office to do some admin. He’ll grab a plate of whatever’s leftover from the day’s service and a cold can of beer from the fridge, put on a rerun of Atsumu’s game from the night before, and get to work shuffling through the paperwork that he’s left to pile up over the past seven days.

Osamu hates paperwork.

It’s not that it’s particularly challenging work—the really hard stuff is left to his bookkeeper after all. It’s just tedious, a mindless task in many ways, and he always finds his thoughts drifting as he sorts through invoices and inventory registers: catching himself being inattentive halfway through a spreadsheet, and having to force himself to go back to the beginning just to make sure he hasn’t missed anything in his carelessness.

You used to help him with this kind of work, or at least keep him company while he got through it—sitting on the lumpy couch crammed into one corner of his little office and pretending like you weren’t asleep each time Osamu caught you with your eyes closed. More often than not, he’d throw his jacket over you to keep you warm while you napped and then rush through the last of his work so that he could wake you up and get you home. But just having you there on those late nights was enough for him; your presence was the thing that helped.

Coffee is his only saving grace, these days.

Samu shuffles out to the front of the shop on one such Sunday evening, taking off his baseball cap and ruffling the hair underneath tiredly. He’d finally gotten a trim, and he’s glad that things feel a bit more normal again as he rakes his fingers through it—his mother had been right when she remarked that it was getting too long the week before. He tosses his hat down on the front counter of Onigiri Miya, rounding the end to grab a sachet of instant coffee from behind the bar where he keeps his emergency stash.

The overhead lights in the shop are off, but there’s enough brightness filtering out from the still-lit kitchen that he doesn’t need to struggle to see as he prepares himself some hot water to add to the mug in front of him. He tips the granulated contents of his instant coffee sachet into the bottom after ripping it open with his teeth, tapping the empty plastic packaging against the edge of the cup to make sure it all comes out. The kettle behind him hums quietly as it heats to boiling, and Osamu sighs, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest.

He stares out at the restaurant—his restaurant, as hard as he still finds it to believe some days—his gaze sweeping over the tables with their corresponding chairs resting atop them. One of the staff had mopped the floors at the end of the night, which left them still slightly wet and glistening. There’s light filtering in through the front windows from the streetlights and the other shops that line the Osaka street outside, and their glow catches in the water that hasn’t yet dried from the tile.

Osamu’s eyes suddenly snap up to the glass that lines the front of the restaurant.

There’s a silhouetted figure—so familiar he could trace it even with his eyes closed, from memory alone—standing on the other side of the door.

Osamu blinks, thinking that the paperwork must have finally gotten the best of him, or maybe that the beer he’d had earlier is inexplicably hitting him too hard. But no matter how many times he squeezes his eyes shut, the familiar shape stays where it is on the other side of the glass each time he opens them again.

His heartbeat thumps, loud and wet, in his ears.

Like the shot of a gun, the man stumbles gracelessly into action: loping around the end of the bar and slipping slightly on the wet tile as he heads towards the door. He fiddles with the lock as he struggles to unlatch it, accidentally trying to force it the wrong way in his haste before eventually getting it right. When he finally throws open the door, a gust of cool night air flooding into the restaurant along with it, he takes in a deep, gasping breath.

“Hey.”

His voice is shaky when he greets you—mostly air and very little shape to the word.

You stare at him from a few paces away, your arms crossed firmly over your chest and a frown tugging down the corners of your mouth. Osamu thinks you look pretty when you’re mad. He always has. But it’s worse now because he knows all too well that he shouldn’t—because he knows you’re mad at him.

You seem to have something to say, he can tell as much from the almost spiteful glint in your eyes, but you stay tightlipped as you simply stare at him.

“D’ya… wanna come in?” Osamu asks, still holding the door open. He nods his head back into the shop. “Still got some stuff prepped, I could make ya—“

“You’re a jerk.”

Osamu blinks, taken aback.

“Yeah,” he agrees plainly after a moment, thinking it’s only fair of you to say given then circumstances.

His concurrence only seems to upset you more.

“Like, you’re a real asshole, y’know that?” You’re nearly spitting you’re so angry, your features twisted up in contempt. Your arms uncross and drop down to your sides, and Osamu watches as your hands ball into fists. He’s the one who taught you how to throw a punch, years and years ago now, and he’s wondering if he’s about to experience a practical demonstration of his teaching abilities firsthand.

“I don’t necessarily disagree.” He nods, agreeing with you once more, though this time his response is slower, more hesitant—not because he doesn’t mean it, but because he’s not sure that it’s what you want to hear.

“Ugh!” Your following exclamation is loud, and palpably frustrated, all but confirming his suspicions. “You…!”

Your tone is climbing with every passing second, and Osamu looks furtively up and down the road around the two of you. It’s late in the evening but there are still a few people out, and he sees heads turning in your direction at the commotion.

“Hey,” he says, his own voice dropping in volume but still pleading all the same. “My name’s on the door and we’re gettin’ some weird looks. I wanna hear everythin’ you have to say, but could you please just say it to me inside?”

You look at him blankly, your lips puckering into a petulant, unhappy pout. You seem like you want to say no, to keep causing a scene, and for a second Osamu really thinks you’re about to round in on him again. Instead you trudge forward, stomping past him over the threshold of Onigiri Miya.

Osamu hesitates for a moment after you pass, half in shock and half in relief, and then he lets the door swing closed and locks it behind him for good measure—he’s not sure he wants any unsuspecting people coming in search of onigiri and stumbling upon a brawl.

It’s dim in the restaurant when he turns to face you, but he can still see your fury burning in the dark.

Neither of you say anything.

“You can keep goin’ if you want,” Osamu is eventually the first to speak, and he means what he says. This is the least of the punishment he deserves, after all. And hearing you yell at him is markedly better than the silence.

“Martyrdom doesn’t suit you at all,” you mutter sullenly.

Osamu sighs, scrubbing his hand over his face. “I just wantcha to say whatcha came here to say.”

You begin to pace as you work through your thoughts, slowly walking back and forth in front of the counter, picking at your cuticles. You’d put a fair amount of distance between the two of you, and he’s sure it was intentional. Osamu keeps himself confined to the entryway near the door, while you walk a path back and forth along the length of the service counter. His eyes follow every step you take, like a captivated child watching fish at the aquarium.

“I had a terrible dream last night,—” you finally force the words out, your feet stilling against the shiny tile as your pacing comes to a sudden halt.

Osamu decides to just do the right thing and shut the hell up for once, giving you the floor.

“—I was going to buy 30 kilos of rice from Kita-san’s farm—”

That’s a lot of rice, Osamu wants to note, but his lips part to let the words through and then he decides better of it.

“—and I was there, at the farm, and then Kita-san started telling me that you got married and had a baby. A baby, Samu! Kita-san standing there telling me all these terrible things with that big bag of rice in my hands, and I couldn’t even get mad at him because he’s Kita! So I just had to listen to him go on and on and on about the venue and the flowers and the baby name that you picked out. And the more he’d tell me the worse it was, and the bag of rice just kept getting heavier.” Your teeth bite down so hard into your lip as you suck in a breath that Osamu's amazed he doesn’t see blood. “I was hearing all of these things—terrible things—and all I could think was that I should have been there to see all of that for myself. I shouldn’t have been hearing about it from someone else. And I realized that you were living a whole life apart from me, a life that I didn’t know about or get to be a part of, and it just kept getting worse and worse and I woke up and I felt like I was going to scream.”

You’re out of breath by the time you finish your rambling thought, your chest heaving and your eyes wild and your mouth faintly wet. You look to him, and Osamu doesn’t see that same indignation in your eyes anymore, only hurt. He watches as the expression hardens again, whets itself like a blade—sharpened not in anger, but rather in resolve. In resignation.

“That day. I looked for you first.”

Osamu feels lost now. Are you still talking about that dream?

You understand without him saying it, and explain yourself further. “In high school. The day that I kissed Suna.”

Osamu’s stomach drops, all of the blood rushing to his head so quickly that the shop begins to spin a little around him. He can hear his pulse in his ears. He can feel it in his throat. He can’t help the twist of jealousy in the pit of his stomach, writhing and ugly though it may be, at the mere mention of his friend’s name. He doesn’t have the right to feel the way he feels, but it happens all the same.

“I looked for you,” you keep going, like you’ve broken a seal and have to let it all out. Osamu doesn’t dare try to stop you. He couldn’t even if he wanted to. He watches on like it’s a conversation that’s happening not with him but rather to him. “You were eating lunch with Tsumu in your classroom. I realized he would have had a fit if he knew that I was asking you and not him. I thought about asking him but…”

Osamu can’t feel his fingers from how tightly his hands are balled into fists at his side. His lungs burn in his chest—the breath he’s holding having long since lost the oxygen his body needs, though he can’t seem to draw in another.

“If it wasn’t you, I didn’t care who it was. So I asked Suna.”

The young man processes your words slowly. Incompletely. Like only every third word seems to register.

“Ya wanted me to be yer first kiss?” It’s not the question he ought to ask you but it’s the one his brain chooses to spit out.

Your reply is frustrated, but with an unmistakably melancholic rasp running through it. “Yeah. I did.”

Somewhere distantly, Osamu recognizes a sharp, stinging pain. An ache as part of him realizes that it could have been him. All along. All this time. Him. But the pain is muted, because part of him—most of him—still doesn’t quite understand.

“I think that was the first time I realized it.”

Osamu watches your face, maps the achingly familiar lines and dips and curves of your features as he tries to read meaning in the space between your words. But he still finds nothing.

“I liked you, Samu. More than I should have. Differently than I liked Tsumu, or Suna, or any other guy.” You laugh, but it’s a hollow, watery sound. “I realized it and it was awful.”

You’re waiting for him to say something, but Osamu is at a loss for words. No, that’s not quite it either. It’s not that he has nothing to say, but that he has everything he wants to say to you. To ask you. But he doesn’t know where to start, or how to sort through them, or even how to will his lips, teeth, and tongue to shape any of them.

“You… Y’know ya don’t have to say this,” his voice is tight, like a rope drawn to secure a knot not unlike the one in his throat, when he finally manages to speak. “Ya don’t have to pretend or convince yourself that you… felt the same as me. I care about ya too much to ever ask that.”

You laugh—a single, sharp, distinctly mirthless ha!—as you throw your hands up in exasperation. “There you go again not letting me have any say, Samu!” You punctuate your exclamation with a frustrated little sound. “Stop deciding things all on your own and just listen to me.”

That shuts him up again.

“I thought I was over it,”—you begin to pace once more, your steps slow and measured—“I really did. I told myself it would never happen and moved on because I never ever wanted to fuck things up between us. Between any of us.

“You told me that you’ve loved me your whole life, but you don’t know if or when something changed. I do. I had a singular moment that I could point to where I realized that if I did or said the wrong thing after that, I could fuck up something that meant more to me than anything else in the world. Even if you felt the same way I did, there’s no guarantee that something like that would work out. But if we tried and it didn’t work, we wouldn’t be able to just go back to how things were. So I told myself that no matter what I wouldn’t. No matter how hard it was or how awful it felt. I could get over it if it meant I never had to lose you. And it was fine. For years it was fine. We were fine. Everything was fine. And then I lost you anyway.”

You suddenly stop pacing and crouch down, your arms winding themselves around your knees as if to comfort yourself.

“That night, when you…” You swallow, and risk a glance up at him. “I don’t think I’m over it.”

Osamu feels like he might die. Maybe he did already. Maybe this is his life passing before his eyes, because it’s always been you anyway.

“But it’s scary, Samu,” your voice is so small, so vulnerable, when you speak to him again. You’re trembling as you hold yourself. “Aren’t you scared?”

Osamu is suddenly reminded of that fall day in the woods, so many years ago now. Reminded of two kids who didn’t know what they were doing. Who didn’t know anything. But who knew each other.

Slowly, Osamu crouches too—his joints cracking in protestation as he drops his body down to your level. Your eyes never leave his.

“Yeah,” he says, after a moment. Soft but sure. “‘Course I am.”

You let out a soggy, incredulous laugh, but it somehow doesn’t feel out of place. He watches as you reach up and scrub at your eyes.

“I love you,” Osamu says, because it’s true. Because there’s no other words he can possibly think to say in this situation. Because it’s the only thing that he has in his mind.

You look over at him, sniffling a little, wiping at your running nose with the back of your hand in a way that Osamu absolutely should not find as endearing as he does. “How can you just say it like that? Like it’s so easy?”

Osamu wants to laugh too, like you did earlier, but he worries that the sound might come off as almost hysterical thanks to the misplaced hope he can feel simmering in the pit of his stomach. “Sayin’ it’s the hard part, that’s why it took me so long. But I’ve spent forever lovin’ ya. S’always been the easiest bit.”

You choke back a sob, your head hanging defeatedly as your body slackens. You’re a ghost of the angry little thing that was outside of his door only a few minutes earlier, but more yourself now than Osamu has seen you in weeks.

“What about you?” he poses the question so quietly he might worry you didn’t hear him if not for how silent the dark shop is around you both.

“What do you mean?” You know what he means. He knows you know what he means. You’re stalling, trying to buy yourself time that’s run out now.

“Do you love me?” he asks, praying to anyone who’s listening that he’s been a good enough man up until this point to deserve the answer that he wants to hear more than anything else in the world.

“Of course I do,” you say evasively, refusing to meet his gaze. But it’s not the same. It’s not enough.

“But are you in love with me?” Osamu finally dares to ask.

There’s a stretch of the most painful, profound silence that either of you have ever experienced. It goes on for an eternity, though the clock hands in the corner say differently.

You still refuse to look at him, your gaze fixed instead to a point on the wall on the other side of the restaurant. Osamu watches how the light from the windows catches in the tears that cling to your bottom lashes.

“Yeah, I am,” you say, barely a whisper. You speak the confession like it’s the most terrifying thing imaginable. Like it's wretched.

And it is maybe, but Osamu’s never felt happier to hear anything in all his life—he feels a rush of something so visceral and elated flowing through him, he thinks he might pass out.

“Can I touch ya?” he asks hesitantly, his voice thick and unlike its normal tone. He hardly recognizes it as his own.

You peek over at him for the first time, and Osamu revels in the feeling of having your eyes on him. Delights in watching you watch him and knowing that behind the gaze is the same feeling as the one he holds inside of himself. You consider it for a moment, and he doesn’t dare rush you, but eventually—mercifully—you nod.

Osamu inches forward slowly and wraps you in his arms. Your body relaxes into his hold instantly, and he pulls you into his lap on the tiled floor. He holds you so tightly that he’s scared he might break you, but he still can’t find it in himself to be more delicate. You cling to him anyway.

It’s the first time he’s touched you in months, but every inch of you is still known to him. Still familiar in every way that matters. You smell the same. You feel the same. You’re soft and warm just like always. Osamu buries his face into the crook of your neck, and your fingers eventually lift to play with the hair at his nape. He holds you, and holds you, and holds you more—sating a thirst that’s been building for longer than the time the two of you have been apart.

And you let him.

You hold him too, in the same way.

“If I kiss ya, you gonna cry again?” Osamu asks you quietly after a while, his lips brushing against your throat as he murmurs the words.

You snort, your fingers twisting into the material of his t-shirt at his shoulders. Osamu peels himself away from you and looks up, and finds that your faces are so close. Too close, in any other circumstance.

His palm lifts, cupping your cheek in his hand, running his thumb against the smooth skin underneath.

“Shut up, Samu,” you say, a little smile twisting up the corner of your mouth.

And Osamu happily obliges by pressing his lips to yours.

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