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4unnyr0se · 3 months

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❥ moth to a flame | toru oikawa

warnings: timeskip! argentina oikawa, fem! reader, ushijimas ex! reader, alcohol consumption, recording, fingering, making out, HEAVY flirtiny/dirty talk, hickeys, rough sex, multiple orgasms, ushijima hate, exhibitionism, degradation, oikawa is a bitch ass motherfucker

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 5.1k

a/n: based off of this post right here, i hope i did it justice. also sorry to all the ushijima girlies out there

❥ song: moth to a flame - the weekend

Oikawa really fucking hated Ushjima. He hated how good he was. He hated how he could easily get his ass handed to him on a silver fucking platter. Not that he would ever admit that, of course. The Great King had too much pride ever actually to acknowledge that someone was better than him at volleyball. He knew that the ace was secretly talking behind his back, telling everybody that it was such a shame that Oikawa never went to Shirtatorizawa. Fucking dick, what the hell did he know? He had a dumb face. Ushijima was only useful for hitting balls into the opposing team's court. It’s no wonder he got drafted onto the Alders, no universities would accept him. Now, did Oikawa actually have any proof that Ushijima was dumb? Well, not exactly. But he didn’t need proof, Oikawa knew that already. He fucking hated Wakatoshi Ushijima and anyone that associated with him, including the ace’s pretty little girlfriend.

You were too pretty to be Ushijima’s girlfriend, way too pretty. There was no way someone like you would ever willingly be seen with him, right? He was probably blackmailing you into going out with him and posing for Volleyball Monthly; that’s how Oikawa found out about your little relationship. “Shiratorizawa’s Power Couple” the magazine title proudly boasted, using a photo of you standing a little too close to Ushijima for Oikawa’s liking. The only reason you were even featured was because you were the captain of Shiratorizawa’s cheer squad. Probably the only fucking good thing to come out of that school was you. You were wasted on Ushijima, no matter how well he could treat you. Oikawa was furious; Ushijima had a cute girlfriend, but he didn’t. It didn’t make any sense, right? Oikawa could have any girl he wanted, yet he chose you, someone he couldn’t have. What a mind-fuck that was.

Ushijima kept dating you after high school, much to Oikawa’s annoyance. Rumors were circulating that you would marry and give birth to the next great generation of volleyball, but Oikawa stopped caring at that point. He started playing for Argentina and decided (begrudgingly) that it was for the best that he stopped obsessing over that one Shiratorizawa cheerleader. That perfect, pretty, popular, and so fucking sexy cheerleader. Oikawa was content with his new life in Argentina, especially knowing he would never have to see you or Ushijima again. Boy, was he wrong.

The beach was sunny that day, and it was full of people doing whatever they wanted: making out, poorly playing volleyball, making sandcastles, whatever they wanted. Oikawa considered joining in on an amateur volleyball match, but he shrugged it off. They would probably recognize him, and while he enjoyed his fame, he preferred his female fans to his male ones. He instead opted to do what he did best: lie there and look pretty. His muscles rippled in the bronzing sunlight as he observed how the waves of the ocean danced, how the children laughed, and how the seagulls terrorized innocent picnic-havers. It was the best thing ever…until he got bored and wanted a drink. Something light, something with lime and coconut. He didn’t care what as long as it had those two things.

The bar was unusually empty, which was great. His fame got him a lot of special treatment, but cutting the line at the beach bar was certainly different from them. He gave the bartender his order and gave him the pesos, turning his back to the employee as his drink got mixed. Oikawa zoned out for the better part of it, not thinking of much until he was snapped out of his thoughts by a feminine voice.

“Virgin margarita, please,” you spoke so sweetly like honey was falling from your lips. Oikawa snapped his head in your direction, and his eyes nearly fell out of their sockets. You, Wakatoshi Ushijima’s girlfriend, were standing a few feet away from him, in the cutest little black bikini he had ever seen. He choked on his saliva, pretending to brush it off as a cough. Fuck, did you notice him? There was no way you didn’t. Whatever, there’s no turning back now. Oikawa plastered his signature smirk onto his handsome features, staring at you through his designer sunglasses.

“Well, if it isn’t Ushijima’s illustrious girlfriend. What brings you to Argentina? Let me guess, he sent you to sign me to the Alders?” his voice was smug, annoyingly smug.

You groaned and took off your sunglasses, nestling them atop your head. “Okay, you’re so wrong on so many levels,” you placed your hands on your hips, raising an eyebrow. “First of all, I’m not his girlfriend anymore. I broke up with Wakatoshi after he got drafted to the Alders, which probably answers your second question.” the ghost of a smirk dusted your lips.

“Oh,” Oikawa was momentarily silenced. “But you’re still on a first-name basis?”

“And is that any of your business?”

“Wow, since when was Shiratorizawa’s princess so fucking bitchy? I thought you were Snow White or something,” he scoffed, stepping towards you with his arms crossed.

“And you’re just as pretentious as people say you are,” you snickered. “For your information, Oikawa, I can act however I want. I broke up with his sorry ass, and I’m not telling you why. God, I can’t believe we’re at the same beach.”

Shit, he liked how you were talking to him. No one had put him down like that long ago, not since Iwaizumi. It was nice…did he like it when girls were mean to him instead of worshipping the ground he walked on?

“Hey, don’t get pissy with me, princess. It’s not my fault you just happen to go to the beach near where I live,” Oikawa scoffed. “What are you even doing in Argentina anyway? What, did university not work out for you back in Miyagi.”

You rolled your eyes. “For your information, asshole, I got into every university I applied to. I just…” you signed, rubbing your temple. “I just needed some time away from that place. Everything reminds me of Wakatoshi. It was just better for me to get away for a while.”

The bartender coughed awkwardly, holding your drinks. You both took them as the employee turned back around, visibly uncomfortable. Oikawa took a sip of the drink, nodding in approval. “So, I take it finding me on this beach wasn’t the most relaxing thing?”

“I thought you were going to be nice to me, but I guess I was wrong since you thought I was still with Wakatoshi,” you sipped your drink, the cool liquid drooling down your chin and onto your breasts. “But…I guess I can forgive you. After all, neither of us went to nationals since Karasuno got number nine and ten, right?”

Oikawa chuckled. “Yeah, you’re right. Fucking Tobio.”

“You know he’s on the Alders as well, right?”

“What? Oh, fucking of course he is,” Oikawa scoffed, placing his drink down at the bar. He looked at your form again, drinking in each curve that your bikini did such a poor job of hiding. Did you wear that thing on purpose to find someone here to fuck? Maybe Ushijima never fucked you right. Maybe he never made you cum. Maybe that’s why you dumped his sorry ass because he was a terrible lover. Oh, wouldn’t that just be a fucking treat?

“So,” Oikawa stared at the ground. “Do you wanna head back to my apartment? It’s within walking distance. Plus, I have drinks that aren’t stupidly overpriced,” he shot the bartender a dirty look. “No offense.”

You thought for a moment, your perfectly manicured finger tapping on your bottom lip. “Sure, that could be fun. Besides,” you leaned forward, exposing your cleavage to the setter. “If Wakatoshi heard about that, he would be so fucking pissed. So why not, hm?”

Holy shit. You were perfect. “Wow,” Oikawa was speechless, which was a rare fucking treat. “And here I thought you were all sweet and innocent,” he casually snaked his arm around your waist, shamelessly feeling your supple skin. “I guess I was wrong.”

“You’re lucky we hate the same person, or else I would have broken your arm off by now,” you snicker, allowing his hand to feel up and down your waist. “Now, where’s your apartment? Let me guess,” you pointed to an expensive-looking building. “Penthouse suite on the top floor right over there?”

“How the hell did you know that?” he raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

You scoffed, walking in tune with Oikawa. “I mean, it’s painfully obvious. That’s the only apartment complex within comfortable walking distance, and knowing your ego, you probably chose the apartment on the top floor because you think you’re entitled to it, somehow,” you smirked, staring into his milky brown eyes. “Well? How right am I?’

Oikawa frowned, pouting like a baby. “...pretty right…” he mumbled.

“What? I didn’t catch that?” you pretended to cup your ear.

“I said you’re right. Jeez, since when were you this cocky?” he grumbled, pulling you closer to his muscular form. He was ripped, more ripped than he was in the sports magazines from high school. His chest was chiseled, and his shoulders were broad as if he had been sculpted by the gods themselves. You would never admit this to him (not sober, at least), but Oikawa was hot as fuck, even though he was a major brat.

“I’ve always been this cocky, just not in public,” you looked up at the door of the penthouse apartment complex, the doorknobs brandishing an expensive golden sheen. “Wow, these sure are different than the Miyagi apartments,” you mumbled, rubbing on your arm. Oddly enough, you felt out of place, like you didn’t fit the right tax bracket to be allowed here.

“Well, cutie, I am a professional athlete. I make more than the entire staff does combined,” he bragged, waving to the desk attendant, who had the most annoyed look on her face. Maybe she knew what a dick Oikawa was as well.

You bit down on your bottom lip, tapping your sandalled shoe against the cool tiling of the lobby. Did he just call you a cutie? You shouldn’t take it personally. He probably did that with every other girl he found attractive. Wait, does that mean he found you attractive? Oh god, did you actually like being flirted with by Toru Oikawa? You slapped your hands over your cheeks, attempting to hide the ever-blooming red blush.

“Are you okay? You look red,” he thought for a second, his lips twisting into a smirk. “Is Shiratorizawa’s Princess blushing?” he leaned forward, smirking as the elevator doors closed. His large and calloused hands pressed against either side of your head, trapping you between the wall and his shirtless frame.

“Shut up!” you slapped him across his cheek, leaving a stinging imprint on his flawless skin. He gasped, massaging his cheek. “You’re a pervert, you know that?”

“I haven’t even said anything perverted yet! No one hits me, no one!” he wined, uncaging you from the elevator wall. “You’re feisty,” he mumbled under his breath, something you couldn’t hear.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the elevator door dinged. You both left the elevator and walked to his apartment in silence, your hands massaging your arms as the cold air of the upper floor set in. Rich people have excellent air conditioning.

“This is it,” Oikawa jiggled his key into the lock, pulling open the mahogany door. “Ladies first,” he winked, making you scoff as you entered the vast apartment.

“Holy-” your words died on your lips as you took in Oikawa’s living space. How perfect and elegant it was. It was massive, boasting a designer kitchen with beautiful granite countertops and three ovens. Who the hell needs three ovens? “This place is huge! Damn, I forgot how much they pay professional athletes!”

Oikawa chuckled at your childlike marveling, or perhaps it was envy? Either way, he could get used to you gawking over his wealth. “I know, I know. I’m fucking fantastic,” he strode over to the bar cart, mixing some peach juice and vodka. “I know this isn’t the most manly drink, but beer is so gross. Don’t you agree?” he handed you a glass, not even trying to hide the fact that he was staring at your tits.

“Oh, totally. Beer is gross,” you took a sip of the drink, smiling at the peach juice hit your tongue. “Oh damn, this is good. Where did you get this?”

“I’m not telling. You could buy out my entire supply!” Oikawa laughed, taking another sip of his beverage. “So,” he leaned against his kitchen counter, staring into your eyes with his half-lidded ones. “What will it take for me to learn why you dumped Ushijima, hm?” his voice was a purr, like a siren trying to lure you into the sea.

You rolled your eyes and sat down on the couch, admiring the tasteful throw pillows he had. “Well, if it gets you to shut up, I’ll tell you,” you patted the seat right next to your own. “You’re lucky I have vodka in me, or else I’d be really bitchy right about now.”

“Who’s saying you aren’t being bitchy?”

You shot him a glare. “Do you wanna know my breakup story or not?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he rolled his eyes and sat next to you, purposefully spreading his muscular thighs. Fuck, he was sexy as hell. “Well? Let’s hear the story, cutie.”

“Okay,” you took a deep breath, locking your eyes on your pedicured feet. “We started dating because one of his teammates said we would look good together. Tendou, I think his name was. He asked me out, but it wasn’t very romantic. He was stoic, unfeeling. I guess he’s always been like that,” you paused, licking your bottom lip. “He was a good boyfriend for the most part, I guess. He was kind, and he supported me in anything I did. It’s just…volleyball was his top priority, not me. And don’t get me wrong, I loved cheerleading. Wakatoshi prioritized sports over his relationship, so I dumped him once he was signed to the Alders.” you looked up at Oikawa, a soft smile gracing your lips. “I’m happy I dumped his sorry ass.”

“Wow,” Oikawa mumbled, setting his drink on the coffee table. “I’m sorry he treated you like that. I always knew he was a piece of shit, and now I have the proof,” he smacked his lips together, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “C’mere, I gotta ask you something else.”

“Do we have to be this close for you to ask me a question?” you raised an eyebrow, secretly enjoying the intimacy.

“Yes,” Oikawa immediately responded. “Answer me this,” his voice dropped to a deep octave, goosebumps covering your arms. “Did he ever make you cum, or did you have to fake it every time?”

Your breath hitched in your throat, a blush dusting your cheeks. “Well, technically, no, he didn’t make me cum,” you whispered, knowing damn well that Oikawa had a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

“I fucking knew it,” he pulled you impossibly closer, pulling your lip down with his thumb. “Poor little girl, hm? You’re big, strong boyfriend never gave you an orgasm. Did he even know where the clit is?”

You shook your head. “No, I had to show it to him, and he still has never found it.”

“Oh, that’s pathetic. And adorable. To think,” his lips trailed upwards to the cartilage of your ear, nibbling on it. “That a pretty thing like yourself had a boyfriend that wouldn’t give her what she wanted…that’s just tragic, don’t you think so?”

You looked at him, your eyes ablaze. “I guess so. What, did you wanna do something about that?” your hands slid up and down his thigh, dangerously close to his hardening cock.

“I think I will,” without any warning, he scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder, slapping you on the ass. You squeaked and were thrown onto his bed, the crisp cotton sheets welcoming your burning skin. Oikawa crawled on top of you, pinning your wrists above your head. “I have an idea, something that will piss Ushijima off. That’s what we both want, isn’t it?” he planted a daring kiss on your neck, the aroma of your tropical perfume filling his nostrils. “I know you wanna see him angry, don’t you, cutie?”

Fuck, his words landed right at your core. You squeezed your legs shut, tilting your head to the side so he could plant more of his blazing kisses on your delicate skin. “Mhm, I wanna see him get so mad he does something he’ll regret,” you purr, gasping as Oikawa sank his canines into you. A soft moan fell from your lips, only encouraging him to leave more delicious bruises. He stopped his ministrations, licking his way up to your ear. “I wanna film me fucking your brains out,” his voice was a low rumble, practically dripping with want. “I wanna send him pictures of you covered in my fucking cum with your tits covered in hickeys. That’ll show him, right?” he shamelessly palmed your breast, wanting to tear that slutty bikini off your perfect body.

“Fuck, Oikawa,” you moaned, breaking free from his grasp. “If you’re gonna do that,” you sat on the bed. “We have to be equals in this, or he’ll think you’re fucking me without consent.”

“What? So, no bondage or anything?” he pouted. “Well, I guess that’s fair,” his milky eyes darted to one of his dresser drawers. “I…I have a professional camera in there, as well as a tripod. Don’t fucking ask why I have those, okay? If we’re gonna film a little something for your ex-boyfriend,” he playfully nipped at your ear. “We’re gonna do it right.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you chuckled, swatting his hands away as he fumbled with the string of your bikini top. “Nope, you have to undress me on camera. That’ll really piss him off.”

Oikawa smirked, setting up the tripod quickly. How many times did he use that thing? “You sure know him well, don’t you, cutie?” he hit the record button, crawling above you again. The camera was positioned to have the side-view of whatever you two decided to participate in. “Don’t worry, I’ll get the money shot with my phone,” he snickered, hovering his lips above yours. “Now, cutie, do you wanna make a movie with me?”

“Fuck yes,” and his lips were upon yours, ravaging them like he had drank a love potion. They moved in sync with your own, relishing in the mango-flavored chapstick you wore. He kissed you like he owned you from the second he saw you in that slutty bikini. The way his teeth clashed against yours was animalistic in his fight to be dominant, not even asking for entry before shoving his tongue inside your mouth. Your wet muscles danced, pulling moan after moan out of your lungs before he pulled away abruptly, cheeks flushed and chest heaving.

“Gotta fucking catch my breath,” he chuckled. “You kiss like a fucking whore.”

“I bite like one, too,” you smirked, rolling over to straddle Oikawa’s waist. He gasped in confusion before quickly being silenced, the sensation of you harshly sucking on his muscular neck making him whimper. You chuckled, grinding yourself onto his pelvis, your most intimate parts being covered by thin pieces of fabric.

“Fuck, cutie,” Oikawa’s hands squeezed your hips, rolling the fat between his taped fingers. He bucked his hips upwards, making you yelp. “Take off that fucking top now,” he growled, fisting the sheets beneath him impatiently.

You giggled and reached behind your back, undoing the bikini knot teasingly slow. Oikawa knew what you were doing. He’d seen it a million times by now. Usually, he wouldn’t mind. It was just another beach slut taking her time, trying to draw out their experience with the great Toru Oikawa. But this time was different. He didn’t want to wait. He wanted you creaming on his cock the way Ushijima never made you. Besides, there would be a second time. And a third, and a fourth.

His hand cracked against your ass. “Don’t fucking tease me, cutie,” his voice rasped, his hands hungrily grasping onto your tits. “Fucking take this off, or I’ll rip it off of you. Show me those tits, don’t get all shy on me now.”

You squeak, your clit pulsating at the contact. “Fine, whatever you want, baby,” you threw your bikini top across the room, letting your breasts be exposed to the cool air of his bedroom. Oikawa groaned, rolling over so he was on top once more. His mouth found your breast, sucking at the pillowy flesh while his hands rolled over your pert nipple, alternating between each breast. He sucked on your areloas, making sure not to be gentle. He only got more confident with each slutty moan he ripped from your lips, relishing in the incredibly high ones he received when he bit down on your nipple. Your chest was littered with tiny purple circles and covered in his saliva, the desire in your belly practically bubbling over. His cock was painfully hard, pressing against your inner thigh. You swore you could hear it throbbing, begging to fuck your cunt.

“Oikawa!” you whimpered, grabbing his ashy brown hair and forcefully pulling him away from your chest. “I-I think you marked me enough, right? C’mon,” your hand guided his into your bikini bottom, sighing as his thumb finally found your desperate clit. “I’m so wet down here for you, Oikawa. Don’t you wanna take care of me?”

Your voice was high-pitched like the girls in porn, and Oikawa fucking loved it. You were both putting on a show in shorts. A show to piss off a man that you both despised, but it was a show nonetheless. It's a sexy, depraved show.

“You moan like a fucking slut,” he pushed your bikini to the side, exposing your dripping pussy. Without a second thought, he shoved his middle and ring finger deep inside your heat, curling them slightly. You cried out, arching your back further into the mattress as his other hand still had a firm hold on your breast.

“Oh, you like that, cutie? You like getting finger-fucked by your ex-boyfriend's enemy?” he growled, fucking his fingers in and out of your weeping pussy at a relentless pace. “I wonder what they would say if they saw you like this, a slutty little mess under me. You’re such a whore for my fingers, aren’t you?” his thumb dragged over your clit, his fingers and his arm being so precise in their ministrations. Your pussy squeezed around his digits, feeling your first orgasm in such a long-time approach.

“P-please, Oikawa! Fucking make me cum!” you sobbed, your hands clenching onto the white sheets. You saw stars as your orgasm crashed over you, rolling your head to the side to stare directly into the camera. With your blown-out eyes and bruised lips, you looked fucking ethereal.

“Good fucking girl,” Oikawa popped his fingers in his mouth, tasting your slick. You tasted incredible, unlike anything he had ever tasted before. “Open up,” he ran his finger over your soaked core, gathering up more of your essence to forcefully shove inside your mouth. “Suck,” he commanded, and you did. Your tongue ran over his fingers while you made direct eye contact with him, making the setter impossibly hard. “Little slut.”

“M’not a slut,” you whined, spreading your legs further apart. You were contradicting yourself. You were on display for him as if his apartment was some kind of brothel. The look in his eyes when he saw your gorgeous body, your thighs still trembling in the aftershocks of your release. Fuck, it really looked like he ripped you straight out of a porno.

“Then how come you’re spread out like one for me, hm? That pussy’s dripping all over my bed, dirty girl.” he slid off his swimming trunks, his cock slapping against his rock-hard abs. He boasted a proud, sensitive pink tip that was leaking with precum. He pumped his cock a few times before aligning it with your entrance, slapping the head against your clit. “Now, are you gonna beg for me to fuck you better than that pathetic ex-boyfriend of yours ever could?” he looked directly into the camera, mesmerized by the flashing red light. “Better than Ushijima, I’m better than Ushijima.”

“T-Toru!” you whined, pulling him down by his shoulders into a passionate kiss. You stared into the camera as well, giving it a wink. Using Oikawa’s first name would surely make your ex furious. It just had to. “Fuck me! Fuck me better than Wakatoshi ever could!” you sobbed, wrapping your legs around his waist so he had no hope of escaping. Your eyes were wet with fake tears, begging him to ruin you.

“Shit,” he groaned, pushing the head of his cock past your entrance. “That’s what I like to fucking hear.” he slammed his lips down on yours once again, bullying the rest of his throbbing length deep inside your heat. “So fucking tight.” Oikawa hissed at the sight of your greedy pussy sucking him in, his teeth nipping at your lips.

“S’fucking big, Toru! Fuck!” you cried, your nails leaving angry red crescent marks on his back. Oikawa revealed in the pleasure, continuing to make out with you as he fucked you harder, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix occasionally.

“You’ve ever been fucked this hard before, hm?” he bit down on your shoulder, leaving an imprint of his teeth. “No one’s ever fucked this pussy as good before, huh? Fucking answer me, cutie,” his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing softly.

You gasped, struggling to take his massive cock and breath at the same time. “No one’s, fuck, no one’s ever fucked me like this before, Toru!” you sobbed, sighing in relief as he let go of your neck.

“So fucking obedient. And you let her dump you, Usjijima? Fucking pathetic,” he rolled his hips against yours, hitting even deeper inside your pussy. His balls slapped against the cleft of your ass, the apartment echoing with lustful moans and squeals. He grabbed your jaw and pulled you in for another kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth as his cock ravaged your core.

“Toru, I’m gonna fucking cum!” you sob into his mouth, your nails now leaving furious red scratches down his back. He whined into your mouth, his hips never faltering as they continued their unrelenting and unforgiving speed. Sweat dripped from his brow and into your hair, moan after beautiful moan being ripped from your lips as he fucked you like he owned you, like you were his. It was more than just a revenge fuck, so much more.

“Fucking cum on my cock, cutie. Be a good fucking slut and make a mess on this cock,” he growled into your mouth, pulling on your hair to force your neck to the side. He planted open-mouth kisses as you were pushed over the edge, crying out his name as your release coated his pulsating shaft.

Fuck, he wasn’t going to last, not at the rate that your pussy was milking him. He eagerly reached for his phone on the mattress, and just as he felt his orgasm approach, he pulled out of your addictive cunt. The camera app was opened, and the record button was pressed, videoing Oikawa desperately fisting his cock before letting out a guttural, almost animalistic roar. His thick, white-hot ropes of cum painted your stomach and fucked out face, some even landing on your lips. Oikawa stopped recording and took several pictures, each with a different angle of your cum-covered curves.

“Gorgeous,” the setter muttered, tossing his phone back onto the now-ruined sheets. He got off the bed and grabbed the camera, winking at the lens as he hit the power button. The light stopped blinking, and Oikawa was satisfied. “Well, you just made your first porno. How do you feel about that, cutie?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “It’s more of a revenge porno than anything, but I liked it,” you averted your gaze. “You’re a good fuck.”

He placed a hand on his hip. “Well, obviously,” Oikawa rolled his eyes, grabbed a box of tissues, and handed them to you. “Clean yourself off. I’ll run you a bath in a minute.”

You needed clarification. “You’re doing aftercare?”

“Why the hell would I not?” he sounded offended.

“Because you seem like an inconsiderate piece of shit,” your words were so casual, yet so mean. Why did Oikawa crave more?

“I made you cum, didn’t I?” he snatched the box of tissues out of your hand. “Twice, I made you cum twice. That’s more than fucking Ushijima ever could.”

“Woah, don’t get your panties in a twist. It was just an assumption, damn.” you rolled your eyes, stepping off of the bed. “Now, I’m gonna need to borrow a shirt before I get the hell out of here. You kind of ruined my bikini top.”

Oikawa shook his head, placing the camera inside his drawer beside him. “You aren’t going anywhere, not until I’ve gotten as many orgasms as I want out of that slutty little pussy of yours.”

You chuckled darkly and pounced on him, straddling his waist once again. “Only if I get to be on top this time, okay?” you licked his neck. “I wanna see how the Great King reacts to Shiratorizawa’s Princess riding his cock.”

Oikawa grinned and pulled you down for another kiss, his cock already hard. You were in for a long fucking night.

Ushijima woke up to an onslaught of ringing sounds coming from his phone. Groaning, he turned to the side to see who had the balls to be emailing him at 2:56 in the morning.

His eyes widened as he saw two video attachments, as well as several image attachments, of Oikawa’s cock plunging in and out of his ex-girlfriend's pussy. Her cries and moans quickly filled up his bedroom as Oikawa’s mischievous brown eyes locked with Ushijima’s green ones from behind the screen. He sat up, scrolling through the rest of the attachments. Each image was enough to send him into a rage, but the last one was what got to him. Your head resting on Oikawa’s chest, various hickeys covering your tits and neck as you slept soundly. On the other hand, Oikawa was smirking as he held up the number five with his fingers. Ushijima’s hands cracked his phone, shattering the protective glass.

Toru Oikawa was a smug-ass motherfucker.

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30somethingautisticteacher · 3 months

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Buck's favorite words

Just a little idea I couldn't get out of my head so enjoy this ficlet 🙂

***

Buck isn't sure why he likes the word so much, but every time he says it, it's like sugar on his tongue. It makes him feel warm and fuzzy and like everything is right with the world.

"Sorry, I'm flattered but I'm seeing someone," Buck says to the pretty girl he's just evacuated from a 3-alarm blaze. His voice is kind but firm, a far cry from the Buck of old who might have preened at the attention.

"Oh come on, handsome hero man. Give me your number," she purrs, reaching out to touch his arm.

Her relentlessness gives Buck a little push, and he finds himself using the word for the first time in public. It rolls off his tongue easily, filling him with a quiet pride.

"Sorry, but like I said, I'm taken," he says, gently stepping back. Then, with a smile that's both apologetic and genuinely happy, he adds, "I have a boyfriend."

The word 'boyfriend' sits in the air between them, and Buck feels a warmth spread through his chest.

From then on, he finds himself saying it as often as he can, each time feeling that same warmth, that same quiet joy.

At the flower shop, where he's picking out a bouquet for his and Tommy's dinner date, the florist asks, "Do you need help picking something out for your girlfriend?"

"Boyfriend, actually," Buck replies with an easy smile. "And I'm good, thanks."

At the coffee shop, he leans on the counter, eyes scanning the pastry case. "Do you have any cranberry orange scones? My boyfriend loves them," Buck asks the barista warmly.

Later, at the bar waiting for Tommy, a pretty girl sends a drink over. Buck catches her eye, raises the glass in thanks, and then gently shakes his head. When she approaches, he's ready with a now-familiar phrase: "I'm flattered, but I have a boyfriend."

Each time he says it, 'boyfriend' feels more natural, more right. It's not just a word anymore—it's a declaration of who he is, who they are together. And Buck finds he loves that feeling almost as much as he loves Tommy.

There's nothing better than the word boyfriend. That is, until a new word takes its place.

At a restaurant, the waiter approaches with menus in hand. "Would you like to order an appetizer while you wait?"

Buck's eyes light up, a grin spreading across his face. "No thanks, my fiancé should be here soon." The word 'fiancé' rolls off his tongue like honey, sweet and perfect.

On a work call to a new gym, Buck finds himself pacing with excitement. "Wow! This place is nice. Do you have a free trial? I bet my fiancé would love to try it out." He can't help but emphasize the word, feeling a thrill every time he says it.

Later, meeting with the wedding caterers, Tommy sits right next to him, their hands intertwined. Buck squeezes Tommy's hand as he says, "No, we definitely don't want German chocolate cake. My fiancé is allergic to coconut." He glances at Tommy, catching his soft smile at the word.

With each use, 'fiancé' becomes more than just a title. It's a promise, a future, a declaration of forever. And Buck realizes that while 'boyfriend' was wonderful, 'fiancé' is magical—a constant reminder of the commitment they've made and the life they're building together.

But the magic of 'fiancé' only lasts for so long before it's also replaced with something even more profound.

At the hospital, Buck's heart races as he approaches the reception desk. "Hi, I'm Evan Kinard. I just got a call that my husband was here." The word 'husband' feels both new and familiar on his lips.

The receptionist nods reassuringly. "Oh sure, it looks like your husband has just been discharged. Just smoke inhalation and a minor concussion."

Later, at Maddie's place, Buck finds himself chuckling as Chimney and Tommy argue about movies. He turns to his sister with a grin. "I don't know whose husband is more stubborn, yours or mine."

At the 118's karaoke night, Buck takes the stage, his eyes locked on Tommy. "I'd like to dedicate this song to my husband," he announces, his voice full of love. As the opening notes of "I Can't Help Falling in Love With You" begin to play, Buck starts to sing, his voice soft and sincere. Tommy's face flushes with a mix of embarrassment and deep affection as Buck serenades him in front of their friends and colleagues.

Each time Buck says 'husband', he feels a surge of pride and love. It's more than just a word—it's a testament to their journey, their commitment, and the life they've chosen to share. And Buck knows, without a doubt, that 'husband' is his favorite word yet.

#bucktommy #tevan #kinley #firepilot #evan buckley #tommy kinard #fluffy ficlet #30SAT writes

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charliedawn · 1 month

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Hi! I was wondering if you could do a Five hargreeves fluff.. Season 4 destroyed me and I've been looking for so five comfort and your one of my favorite writers, if so o would really appreciate it :)

(Five is becoming popular, huh ? Good for him. 😁)

Five never left the Hargreeves estate without telling his siblings or making sure they would know where to find him—but there were some moments where he would disappear without saying a word to his family. He would wordlessly teleport to a bar in the middle of nowhere where customers were but a few and where the jazz music playing in the background soothed his soul. He would then order one specific drink every single time—the coconut on the beach with a vanilla essence. But it wasn’t the reclusive aspect of the bar, the nice music or even the good cocktails that would be making him come back time and time again.

He would wait for the waiter/waitress to come bring him his drink. And then, he would simply watch them in silence for a few minutes. He would observe them as they went along with their life and didn’t glance back at him until they were done with their tasks at hand…

Y/N L/N.

That name was engraved into his brain and refused to leave. That. And the last date written on a diary he had kept safe from the moment he had left the end of the world.

April 1, 2019.

The exact date where everything ended to the very second where your hand had stopped writing, or would stop writing. To the last loop of your handwriting when everything seemed to stop and your very existence vanished.

His breath hitched.

Your eyes had met from across the bar.

He could have sworn for a second that you could read his mind and see exactly what he was thinking about.

All those nights turning page after page of the same diary. The only descent reading material he had managed to find at the end of the world. The testimony of a human who had lived and died in that very same bar. The human he was currently looking at after having known them through paper first.

He could almost see your thoughts, see the turmoil in your eyes. Because he had read it. He had read about the little boy who had become your regular customer one day and who had never spoke a word to you. He had read about you, the major episodes in your existence and the strangest and most embarrassing moments in your life. He could recite every single word of that diary by heart. He had had more than 50 years to look over and memorise that cursed and precious journal.

But, he always came back to the same pages—over and over.

The pages about a little boy and his dark eyes who seemed older than his years—wordlessly staring at you. The customer who you had wondered time and time again if you would ever strike a conversation with ?

Spoiler alert.

You never did…

The boy kept coming back again and again until the very end—regular like clockwork. Five knew of each time you two would meet—and he dreaded that last moment. The moment where he would stop coming, because he knew that the day he would miss one of your meetings, it would be the day he would either die or have given up on saving you. And he dreaded that moment—that moment where nothing would matter anymore.

So, he kept coming back. He kept coming back—hoping that something would finally change. But nothing ever did. And he could feel his fears and his desperation growing. If something—anything could change…then maybe not everything was lost.

After so many days spent torturing his mind and begging for a sign…that sign finally came.

As he was sipping on his drink, he felt someone sitting down next to him. He didn’t look, but then the presence spoke up.

"Hey there. Nice tie."

He looked up and seemed stunned for a few seconds as he saw your smile.

You had…spoken to him.

Nowhere in all the pages he had read in your diary had you ever mentioned speaking to him. To the very end, all you had ever done was recall that weird kid with the sad eyes who would be staring at you, pay and leave. He took a minute to compose himself and your smile faltered slightly. Maybe had you been wrong to approach the kid ? He had just seemed so…lost. He looked like some rich kid from a private school, and yet he would always come back to your bar. Maybe was he looking to talk to someone ? Or maybe had you been wrong and he wanted to be left alone ?

You sighed and were about to stand up when you heard him reply.

"Nice shirt/dress."

You stopped dead in your tracks and turned around. You sat back next to him and smiled before extending your hand towards him.

"Thanks. The name is Y/N by the way."

He smiled back politely and shook your hand.

"Five. Five Hargreeves."

At that moment, there was a little spark that traveled between you two and the name written on the journal in Five’s pocket changed to:

Y/N Hargreeves.

#fandoms #five hargreeves x reader #number five x reader #the umbrella academy

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perotovar · 6 days

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tunnel vision — an "aint it sweet" oneshot

pairing: marcus pike x oc!vincent monet rating: E(18+) word count: 1.5k content: fluff, swearing, one (1) handjob, coming in pants, heavy kissing, neck kisses, they're both a couple'a cuties dividers by @/saradika-graphics beta:@kedsandtubesocks (ily)

summary: marcus has a new boyfriend in dc, and they're taking things slow. *written as a part of a loose-fit series following these two. this is the first part ♥

a/n: written as a part of @guiltyasdave 's kiss challenge. i was given the prompt "neck kisses". apologies for taking a million years to write this 🥲

masterlist | for updates, follow @oakslibrary and turn on notifs ♥

Marcus met Vincent two years after moving to DC.

He’d stayed single that whole time and took the time to heal from Teresa and his own mistakes in Texas. He knew now that trying to jump into a relationship was just a deflection from his own insecurities. Growing up with a Latina mother and a hard ass for a father set it in his mind that he had to be married with kids by a certain age.

When that didn’t happen, he started to panic and latched onto someone he realized he didn’t even really like all that much. Thankfully, his parents gave him the space he needed to figure things out and left him alone.

Vincent was a patron of a bar Marcus found himself frequenting after work. He wasn’t sure what Vincent did for work at first, but he was always there late. It made sense for Marcus to be there late, given his new position. He wasn’t sure who started talking to who first, but he does remember feeling… light.

Vincent had a warmth to him that Marcus was sorely lacking in his life. They’d meet twice a week and just talk.

Turns out, Vincent was a history professor at Georgetown University. He was… offensively handsome, with shoulder-length dreadlocks and smooth, dark skin. He wore wire-rimmed glasses and dressed sharply. Marcus found himself going lightheaded whenever the scent of Vincent’s cologne hit his nostrils. Vanilla and coconut, with a hint of something tangy.

Marcus could listen to Vincent talk about pretty much anything, his voice low, measured, and a little quiet. He wasn’t sure how any of Vincent’s students got anything done.

Marcus was always pretty straightforward about his desires, so during one of those conversations he asked Vincent out. Vincent graced Marcus with a pearly white smile and a shy chuckle. “I’d love to,” he breathed.

That was a few weeks ago now, and they’d just made their way back to Marcus’ apartment after their third date.

“Vin,” Marcus moaned, tangling his fingers through the thick ropes of Vincent’s hair and gripping tightly.

Vincent had him pinned to his couch in the living room, their hips rolling against each other. Vincent’s plump lips were latched onto Marcus’ neck, sucking and nipping languidly. Marcus loved kissing Vincent. It always left him breathless and felt like it was an event in and of itself. There was no rush to do anything, no pressure to continue to another “step”.

“N-not too high,” he gasped, his cock twitching in his slacks. Vincent chuckled and released Marcus’ neck to give him a look that said ‘I know what I’m doing’. Marcus blushed high on his cheeks and shrugged a little. “I have a meeting in the morning, you know?”

“I’m offended,” Vincent scoffed, playfully rolling his eyes. “Thinking I’d jeopardize your professionalism like that.” He reached up to take off his glasses and set them down on the coffee table next to them.

Marcus blinked, then laughed lightly, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “Get back over here, you,” he smiled, patting Vincent’s bearded cheek.

When their lips touched this time, they fully melted into it. Marcus rolled his hips up against Vincent’s, wrapping his legs around his waist. Vincent made a low noise in his chest and kissed along Marcus’ jaw to the side of his neck he hadn’t touched yet.

Vincent left tender, wet kisses down the thick muscle, then blew softly against the sensitive skin. Marcus shivered and moaned weakly as his cock jumped in his pants again. He was harder than he ever had been in his life and was worried he’d make a fool of himself soon.

Vincent sat up on his knees a little and started unbuttoning Marcus’ dress shirt enough to move it and expose Marcus’ shoulder. He hummed in satisfaction when he saw the blush on Marcus’ cheeks went all the way down to his chest behind the white tank he was wearing underneath.

Marcus made a weak sound when Vincent’s lips latched onto his neck again, this time lower and closer to where his shoulder started. “Vin,” he gasped, gripping onto Vincent’s broad shoulders and digging his nails in.

“Yes?” Vincent smiled, voice muffled before he went back to lazily sucking and kissing Marcus’ skin.

“I’m–” Marcus groaned, his hips rolling erratically. He was almost certain he was going to come if Vincent didn’t slow down.

“You okay?” Vincent chuckled, releasing Marcus’ neck to look at him closely. Marcus was flushed red with big, wet eyes. He nodded and bit his lip, not making eye contact with Vincent. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Vincent frowned.

“It’s nothing, I just… Just give me a minute?” He huffed sheepishly.

Vincent blinked and looked down between Marcus’ legs. He smirked when he saw the twitching bulge beyond the fabric of Marcus’ slacks. “Oh, baby,” Vincent grinned, rolling his own hard length against him teasingly.

“V-Vin, please, I’m–”

“I want you to. Please?” Vincent cupped Marcus’ face in one large hand, his thumb rubbing against his cheekbone tenderly.

Marcus couldn’t remember the last time he felt so exposed and also so safe. He knew Vincent wouldn’t judge him or tease him too harshly about coming in his pants like a teenager after some heavy kissing.

He let out a deep breath and smiled shyly up at his handsome history professor. “Kiss me again?”

“Happily,” Vincent hummed, shutting his eyes gently as their lips connected again.

They rocked together jerkily, the sounds of their heavy breathing and the creaking from Marcus’ hand-me-down couch filling the room. Vincent held Marcus close to his broad chest, strong arms enveloping him.

While Vincent took his time kissing and making Marcus feel like he was floating on air, apparently he was very different once he had a goal in mind. Marcus was making sounds he never thought he could make, the heat at the base of his spine overwhelming him.

Vincent’s hips moved in a slow, steady rhythm, making Marcus’ heart pound and blood rush in his ears. “I’m– I think I’m gonna come, Vin,” he gasped, thighs trembling on either side of Vincent’s hips.

“C’mon, baby,” Vincent grinned, mouth latching onto Marcus’ neck again to push him over the edge.

“Oh, fuck,” Marcus whined, furrowing his brow in concentration. “Fuck!” He gasped as his cock twitched heavily in his pants, coming hard. He moaned as each wave wracked through his body, leaving him breathless.

Vincent hummed in satisfaction and rolled his hips with Marcus, prolonging everything just a little more for him. “Beautiful,” he whispered reverently. He sat up, looking down at Marcus’ spent body and the large wet spot at the front of his slacks. He chuckled at the sight, his own cock twitching in his jeans.

Marcus panted hard, coming down from his peak slowly. He gradually came back to Earth and blushed again when he saw Vincent’s warm brown eyes looking at him. “Stop,” he chuckled. “No one’s made me do that since Ashley in the 7th grade.”

Vincent smirked, chest puffing up in pride. “Well, consider me honored to be among such a prestigious group.”

Marcus rolled his eyes and gently pushed Vincent’s shoulder. “Your turn.” He crawled into Vincent’s lap, wrapping his arms around the other man’s neck. He undid Vincent’s jeans and held his thick cock in his hand through the thin material of his briefs.

When Vincent moaned and bucked his hips, Marcus felt a rush of excitement down his spine.

“S-shouldn’t be long,” Vincent chuckled, his cock throbbing in Marcus’ strong hand. Marcus hummed happily and latched his own mouth onto Vincent’s neck.

With Vincent’s cock now exposed, Marcus stroked him slowly, teasing the head with his thumb. Vincent breathed heavily, the heat from his cheeks and neck warming Marcus’ lips. Marcus pumped him gradually before he removed his hand to spit into his palm, and returned to his previous rhythm.

Vincent moaned and shivered at the wetness along his length, lips parted obscenely as he watched Marcus’ hand.

Marcus sucked hard against Vincent’s neck, nibbling on the thick muscle teasingly. “C’mon,” he encouraged, kissing up his neck to latch onto Vincent’s earlobe. He moaned around the earring there and sped up the fist between Vincent’s thighs.

“Shit,” Vincent breathed, nodding toward his cock. “M-Marcus, baby, I’m–” He smiled, resting his head on the back of the couch as he watched Marcus’ face.

Marcus blushed again and kissed him deeply as Vincent tensed, coming hard all over Marcus’ hand. He groaned into his mouth, hips bucking jerkily with his release. He giggled in the aftershocks, the dopamine rushing through his system as he held Marcus’ face in his hands.

Marcus’ heart pounded in his chest as they kissed languidly, both of them coming down from the moment.

They stayed like that for a while until they finally had to part to breathe. “We should do that again sometime,” Vincent flirted, nudging Marcus’ chin with the knuckle of his index finger.

Marcus laughed, cheeks warm and chest light. He couldn’t agree more.

#marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike fic #marcus pike smut #marcus pike x oc #marcus pike x original character #original character #oc #gay #bisexual #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal character fanfiction #oaksfics

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lotusnleaves · 2 months

Text

WHATS NOT TO LOVE?

— ᴾᵃᶦʳᶦⁿᵍ: ᴳⁿᵎᴿᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ˣ ᴱ¹⁶¹⁰ᵎᵀᵃˡᵏᶦⁿᵍˢᵗᵃᵍᵉᵎᴹᶦˡᵉˢ

— ˢᵘᵐᵐᵃʳʸ: "ᵂᴴᴬᵀˢ ᴺᴼᵀ ᵀᴼ ᴸᴼⱽᴱ" ᴾᵃʳᵗ ². ᴱ¹⁶¹⁰ᵎᴹᶦˡᵉˢ ᵗᵃˡᵏᶦⁿᵍ ˢᵗᵃᵍᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈᶜᵃⁿᵒⁿˢ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᶦᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵗʰᶦⁿᵍˢ ʰᵉ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵈᵒ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵘʸˢ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵒᶠᶠᶦᶜᶦᵃˡ.

—ᴬ/ᴺ:ᴰᵉᶠ ˢᵗᶦˡˡ ᵗʰᶦⁿᵏᶦⁿᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʳᵉⁿᵃᵐᶦⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᴱ⁴²ᵎ ᴴᶜ'ˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵇᶜ ᶦ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿᵗ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ᶦᵗ ʸᵉᵗ ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ˢᵗᶦˡˡ ᵇᵒᵘᵗᵃ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᶦˢ "ᵂʰᵃᵗˢ ᴺᵒᵗ ᵀᵒ ᴸᵒᵛᵉ" ᶦᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉ ʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵏᵏᵏ. ᴵᵗˢ ˢᵒ ʷᵉᶦʳᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᴵ ˡᶦᵏᵉ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶦᵈᵉᵃˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ᴴᶜ'ˢ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᴵ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵃ ⁿᵃᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʰᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵘˢʰ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰᶦⁿᵍ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᴵ ᶠᵒʳᵍᵒᵗ ᵃⁿʸʷᵃʸ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ˢᵒᵒⁿ ♡

୨୧ Talkingstage!Miles who will always always, let you nap on him during your study halls or free periods and any other class you cant get through. Especially if he knows you had one of those real restless sleepless nights. He'll even write down the notes for you so your not behind when you wake up he's just sweet like that.

୨୧ Talkingstage!Miles Miles's who a couple months into your situationship realises your obsessed with his smell. The faint aroma of his coconut and mango scented hair products, all the way down to his subtle cologne. Sooo that in mind, he'll purposely leave a hoodie or T-shirt of his somewhere he knows you'll find it and your endlessly appreciative he doesn't think your a weirdo for liking that kinda thing.

And while we still on the topiccc.

୨୧ Talkingstage!Miles who hears you complain to a friend that non of the clothes he let you borrow smell like him anymore. So when he's at your place and you're distracted he's taking items of clothing and returning em days later smelling fully of him again.

୨୧ Talkingstage!Miles who would draw you ALL the time you were his muse. Whether you were doing homework, watching TV or literally just existing, Miles had a rough sketch of it all. Though the craziest part was you didn't take notice for months only when you asked to see his work, and he hesitantly pushed his black sketchbook to you clearly embarrassed did you think something was off. You flipped through and saw your face on every other page you were shocked and he did NOT have an explanation.

"...." "Miles what—" " A'ight pass that back"

୨୧ Talkingstage!Miles who knows your forgetful so he's always prepared to lend you whatever you couldn't remember this time. Forgot lunch? he's got snacks No note book? there's a spare in his bag forgot the homework? He's already handing you the extra one he does just in case this happens. If you wear glasses and you regularly forget or misplace them he's narrating the board to you and correcting the things you misread.

୨୧ Talkingstage!Miles who has had secret beef with your stuff animals since the time he overheard you say you love them more than him so now every time he comes over he just has to harass 'em a lil. You'd tell him crap like "Miles don't be mean to them this is their room too" or "Quit abusing my babies before i lock you're ass out". He can be somewhat civil with them when your around but as soon as you leave he's intimidating your teddy bear snuggles, and you gotta scold him from downstairs"

"Ay man i'on know what kinda game you playin' but—" "MILES LEAVE THEM ALONE BEFORE I COME UP THERE"

୨୧ Talkingstage!Miles is so good with kids its crazy but he gets so nervous around children and tries to avoid them. Which make's it even funnier that they naturally gravitate to him." They're attracted to his art that's always bright with colour and his goofy personality, plus he always has candy on him and you think it's so weird. One time he came with you to pick up your younger sibling from school and you step away for a minute when you come back it's to see a crowd of 4 year old's circling a distressed miles.

୨୧ Talkingstage!Miles who is constantly showing you how much he cares. Regularly takes you out on platonic dates taking you to the Fun Fair, movie nights, or painting together in the park. Always remembers to plan something for your birthday like months in advance and this was all prior to a romantic relationship. He was always raising the bar for how you should be treated even before you started dating.

୨୧ Talkingstage!Miles who's admiration for you only grows when you see his selection of limited edition collectable's and treat them with the respect they deserve (P.s you NEVER rip the packaging). Your especially careful around them and when Mile's lets you hold one of the figurines you treat it like a literal baby. You think that it's a cool hobby of his and know they'll be worth a lot in the future. You lost your shit when Miles told you what Gwen did to one of them.

"......" "Tell me you're joking Miles..."

୨୧ Talkingstage!Miles who gets involved and supports everything you do and if your into makeup he'll volunteer to be your model everytimee. Although the glitter and sticky shit you put on his face isn't all that comfortable nothing make's him happier than seeing you happy and if he has to get all glamified to do that he cool with it.

TAGS:

@sangwoosbsf

#❀ :*･゜ﾟ･* 𝓦𝓞𝓡𝓚𝓢 𝓑𝓨 𝓣𝓘𝓩𝓩𝓨 *･゜ﾟ･*: ❀#earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles x black reader #atsv miguel #hobie brown #miles morales imagine #miles morales 1610 #earth 42 miles morales fluff #miles morales fluff #miles morales x you #earth 1610 #1610 miles morales #hobie x reader #atsv #spiderman atsv #atsv hobie #black mc #miles morales x black!reader

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charliehoennam · 5 months

Text

dinner date

summary: David tries to compensate for his demanding job and swoons his girl

Pairing: David Loki x F!reader

Warnings: Fluff, language

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

David knows how you've been looking forward to this day the whole month. Ever since Crumble Crumbs opened up on main avenue, you've been counting down the days to try out the new café and bakery.

It's been a beehive since opening day, so you told him you wanted to wait a while for the hype to die down enough for you guys to enjoy a sweet little date without all the pushing and yelling.

Conyers was a small town. Nothing really new happens here, which happens to be one of David's favorite thing about it.

It's small enough for him to know almost everyone and to be predictable enough for his job.

Every grand opening in Conyers is the highlight event of the month and Crumble Crumbs has been no different; it's been the talk of the small town since then.

Everyone's been there, and word of their wide assortment of large, fresh cookies has been spreading like wildfire which only made you even more excited to finally try it.

The day is cold - sunny enough to enjoy it outside despite the winter season - as you and David walk down the sidewalk, hand in hand.

"They literally have every cookie you can imagine."

"I seriously doubt that. I mean, that's a lot of cookies. And who even is that obsessed about cookies?" David smirks, being his usual skeptical self.

"Who isn't?" You scoff playfully at him. "Cookies are seriously underrated desserts. They're crunchy and soft at the same time, not to mention salty and sweet too. They are the literally the ying and yang of desserts!"

"I'm pretty sure it's yin and yang, babe." He can't help but smile at your excitement.

"And there's a cookie for every season! Summertime? You got lemon cookies, lime cookies, coconut cookies. Fall? Snickerdoodle, peanut butter, s'mores and don't even get me started on chocolate chip."

"Alright, alright. Let's get a cookie in ya 'fore your lose your shit, cookie monster," he laughs opening the door for you.

You walk inside with a playful smack to his arm and giggle excitedly. The smell of the freshly baked goods strikes you immediately and wraps you in the warmest hug.

The café looks like as cozy as a scene from small town rom-com.

Little yellow lights strung across the ceiling glow warmly like candlelight against the pale, cold hue of the snowy streets outside that filters through the frosty windows. Bright green leaves planted on dark wooden boxes brighten the dullish red color of exposed bricks on the wall. Christmas stockings and decor hang against the dark teal bar beside the display cases of desserts.

"They got coffee in this joint?"

"Actually, they do. I'm gonna get a simple latte. How about you?"

"I'll join you and get one too."

"No black this time?" You smirk as your gloved hands lock together between you.

"You're rubbing off on me," he smiles and kisses your head. "Let's choose the cookies first and then I'll order the coffees so you can save us a table."

You and David work together to select different flavors to share between you both. You'd have one of every flavor if you could, but you know you wouldn't finish them all even with David's help.

He lets you choose first and he notices there's a a few you leave out. Not because you don't want to try them, but you feel like you should limit yourself. So, he makes a point in ordering the ones you'd left out and a couple of simple flavors he happens to love like the peanut butter and the classic chocolate chip.

You find a table to sit at near the window and take the cookies over to it as David soon follows with your lattes in hands.

Setting your gloves aside, you take turns choosing which cookies to try, chatting endlessly in between every bite and sip.

He just wants you to be happy today. He loves seeing you like this. He knows he doesn't spend enough time going on these little dates, letting routine to dominate your relationship.

He's always had trouble dating because of his job. There is no greater passion for him than helping people in need.

It's a subconscious deed that heals his inner child daily. He hadn't realized it until you pointed it out after he had told you about his rough upbringing one night.

Most of the women that came into his life felt it hard to compete with. His career always found a way of coming between his relationships until David eventually decided to give up on pursuing lasting relationships...until you came along and turned his world upside down.

At first, he didn't get his hopes up since he figured you'd eventually leave too. Only you didn't leave, nor did you hold it against him or make him feel guilty for his job.

Instead, you became his haven. His little peaceful cocoon to shelter him of all worries.

He admired that about you, the strength you had to understand and accept that your relationship wouldn't be as normal as others. Most of all, he was grateful that you still chose to stay with him knowing that.

He promised himself that he would always try his absolute best to make every rare second you had together as memorable as possible.

That's why he feels his heart sink in his chest when you both hear his cell phone ring in his pocket.

You smile at him and nod after seeing the regret on his face as he closed his eyes and exhaled sharply through his nose.

You assure him with a gentle smile and a hand on his arm that it's alright, that the call could be important or urgent. You know he wishes he didn't have to take it, but even days off aren't entirely free for him.

"I'm sorry, babe. I really am. I'll just be a minute. It- fuck," he sighs shaking his head as he reads the caller ID, recognizing it's his captain.

With reaffirming strokes of your thumb on his forearm, you already know from David's curt replies that he has to go in today.

The minute he hangs up, his heart is filled with dread.

"I'll get these to go while you bring the car around, yeah?"

He only nods and looks at you doey, apologetic eyes.

"Hey, it's alright... We can always come back. I'll make sure not to leave you any so we can come back soon," you smirk trying to poke some fun at him to ease his guilt.

He chuckles and nods as he gets his gloves back on.

"I'm taking this one with me" he says lifting the peanut butter cookie to his mouth as he stands with his latte in hand.

---

You barely see David the couple following weeks.

Despite being able to find incidental pockets of fleeting time in your schedules to just be together, David can't stop thinking about that date and all the others that he's had to cut short.

He's thankful that you're understanding of the fact that he takes his job very seriously, but he still wants to remind you of how much he loves and appreciates everything you do for him.

Dealing with an absent partner isn't easy at all and things between you aren't always perfect. His job really does take a toll on his mental health. He hadn't noticed how bad it was until the Dover-Birch case.

Convincing him to see a therapist to talk to wasn't very easy, but he realized it was necessary after Bob.

Although the girls were safe and Keller was found - fighting for his life in the cold damp hole Holly Jones forced him into - and treated at the hospital before being taken in custody, Bob and Alex were the ones that really haunted him afterwards.

The day Bob took his life repeated itself in his dreams.

Even in his sleep, he couldn't run from the stress of his job or from the failure that he felt he had been to Bob. And now, he felt like he was failing you too.

On those nights, he would wake up covered in cold sweat with hands that trembled uncontrollably. Looking over his shoulder as he’d sit up on the bed, he’d make sure he hadn’t woken you up. He’d just feel worse if he had, but sometimes when he did, you helped calm him down and he was grateful for the patience you had with him.

Having you was the only constant he had in his life. You gave him a reason to want to come home. You filled his bleak days with love and relief. You are what makes his house a home and the thought of losing you is absolutely terrifying.

Most of David’s romantic history consisted of one-night stands and short-lived relationships. Although he did really have feelings for the women, he’d had relationships with, it always ended the same way: with them leaving because they demanded more attention that his schedule simply couldn’t provide. And, even though he had tried to move things around to have more free time, it wasn’t enough for them.

David shut himself off from the world in that romantic sense after that. He felt he would only ever fail anyone he got with, so what was the point?

Then, you came along and proved him wrong. He knew he would never find anyone like you, so showing you how much you meant was important to him.

----

"Babe?" you call out.

You’re walking into the shared house you live in, sensing the delicious smell of your favorite dish wafting from the kitchen as you slide off your boots and hang your winter coat up alongside his.

"Ah, fuck" he winces lightly burning his hand on the handle of a frying pan., grabbing it in a hurry to set it on the back burner before the food in it could overcook. "In here, babe!"

Running cold water over the burn on his palm, he smiles proudly at you with a dish towel hung over his shoulder when you reach the kitchen, marveling at the romantic set dining table that was waiting for you along with lit tall candles, a bottle of your favorite wine and clean empty plates with thoughtfully arranged silverware resting upon a place mat.

"What's the special occasion?" you chuckle surprised.

He feels so proud watching you admire the effort he had put into making a simple night the most special.

"I finished the paperwork early. Worked through lunch, so I wanted to make you a special dinner, ya know?"

You grin, thanking him as he walks over drying his hands on the dish towel to grab the bottle to open it up and pour the maroon drink into a couple of glasses.

"I just wanted to do something for us... I know it's nothing special. Just dinner but…"

Your eyebrows narrow as you look at him curiously. He doesn't think it's enough to make up for his absence. He wishes he could do more because he knows you deserve more.

“But nothing. This is wonderful, Davie. Thank you so much” you complete and reassure him with a kiss. “You just made my day.”

Just knowing that he's gone out of his way to do something romantic reminds you of exactly why you stay. Under his stern facade, there's a heart of gold that he's learned to hide.

He doesn't reveal it to just anyone. He doesn't drop his guard and expose that vulnerable side with just anyone. He does that with you because he trusts you and he loves you so much.

Through these small acts of affection, you’re reminded that he’s pulling back yet another layer to let you in.

After quickly washing your hands, you take the glass offered to you. While you’re enjoying your wine, he moves around the breakfast bar to plate up the food.

Over dinner, you go on to share the highlights of your day.

Work isn't the most exciting part of your day, but every now and then, a couple things happen here and there and there’s always some gossip that you just have to share with David.

He listens to you with all his earnest attention because he loves listening to you. He could listen to you talk for days. He loves watching how excited you get to talk about your day, no matter how futile the little details seem to you because they’re details that were important enough for you to remember.

He’ll poke fun and let his sarcasm bleed through just a tad to make you laugh.

He doesn't stay silent though. He's a very honest person and he isn't afraid to share what he thinks in a carefully edited manner to avoid hurting feelings: a talent he's acquired over the years on the job.

He just adores watching how eager you get to share these things with him. His days are usually spent solving crimes that are sometimes incredibly daunting and hard to forget, so listening to you talk about your day reminds him why he decided to become a cop in the first place; to keep the town safe so genuine, kind-hearted people like you could enjoy your habitual everyday life in peace and safety.

When you ask him about his day, he's careful to leave the disturbing case details he had to type about the latest case he’d solved. Instead, he goes on to share a couple of stories shared by some of the beat cops from the job and personal lives.

They’re mostly stories about the weird situations brought on mostly by the drunks around town. One being about a crazy drunk in the holding cell stripping down and singing Chaka Khan’s ‘I’m Every Woman’. Another being about a mysterious and suspicious package that was delivered to a bank manager’s house that turned out to be a box full of dildos.

Hearing his laugh is almost like hearing angels sing. So rare, but still so refreshing to hear. You can feel it chase away all the troubles of your day as the corners of his eyes wrinkle with each smile.

Neither of you seem to notice the time passing by. It must be the wine that he keeps filling your glasses with every time he notices they're running low.

Dessert sobers you both up quite a bit after dinner.

"I didn't make it myself, but we can pretend that I actually know something about baking" he laughs setting out the small cake of your favorite flavor from your favorite bakery.

You thank him with a grin and a kiss that he refuses to break.

You already know you want to show him how grateful you are and you know exactly how to show him what.

His kisses are warm, wet and flavored by the red wine and the sweetness of the cake as they meld against your own. He kisses you so passionately, the room seems to spin around your as his lips intoxicate you all over again.

You pull back, cradling his prickly cheeks in your hands to admire your boyfriend.

“I love you, Davie.”

“I love you too.”

#david loki #david loki x reader #david loki x y/n #david loki x you #detective david loki #prisoners #david loki prisoners #jake gyllenhaal

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beom1e · 8 months

Text

eternal 12 | collided

genre slice-of-life, angst. warning alcohol consumption, clubbing. wc 976. playlist ml.

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beomgyu could see you; clear as day. you were adjusting the pirate hat on your head as you stood at the bar, caught up in a conversation with kazuha. blue, red, and green lights flashed around the room, almost blinding him as he watched you over the lip of his cup. he couldn’t look away, he was afraid you’d disappear. beside him, the conversation between soobin and taehyun faded into the background along with everything else.

you laughed at something your friend had said, hand on her shoulder as you stumbled into her slightly. and then a smile lit up your features as the bartender finally came over to serve the two of you. you’d managed to convince your friends to dress the part alongside you. and only aware of yeonjun being there, you had yet to bump into beomgyu or any of his own friends. the reality that they were celebrating kai’s birthday and beomgyu had came along with them still unknown to you.

you thanked the bartender as he handed you a clear plastic cup of a double shot of malibu coconut topped up with coca cola. you’d grown to ignore the bittersweet reminder of beomgyu. of your first date at the fancy restaurant, and how you’d felt so at ease. and how he’d only asked you out because he knew how you felt about him. you tried not to think of the sweet, gentle kiss he’d wished you goodnight with back then.

‘chaewon is over there,’ kazuha pointed out, leading you towards the table your friends had taken over.

‘where’s yunjin?’ you called across the table, catching the attention of sakura who shrugged as she sipped from the straw of her drink. ‘i’m gonna go look for her.’

you left the table and turned towards the thick crowd of drunken people dancing to some charting song you were unfamiliar with. your eyes fell on a familiar figure, tall and swaying under the influence with sunglasses hiding his eyes. you smiled as you stepped closer to him.

‘y/n?’ soobin lowered his glasses in order to look at you over the top of them. ‘i didn’t know you were here.’

‘i’m always at the club,’ you laughed, and then took a sip through your straw. ‘you being here, however, is a shock.’

‘it’s kai’s birthday on monday,’ he explained, leaning closer towards you so that you could hear him properly. ‘yeonjun suggested we all come here.’

‘you’re not dressed up,’ you stated, raising a brow as he readjusted his sunglasses. ‘where’s kai?’

‘over there,’ he straightened up, and gestured towards his left using his elbow. ‘talking to your friend.’

‘odd pairing,’ you laughed shortly. ‘anyway, see you!’

soobin watched you squeeze your way through the crowd, anxiety bubbling in his chest. he decided to stay out of it, and began to drink his drink at an alarmingly faster pace. you spotted yunjin, your smile brightening as you realised she was standing between yeonjun and kai. as you approached them, yeonjun placed his hand atop your hat and pulled it down over your eyes. rolling your eyes behind the fabric, you pulled it back up and shot him a playful glare.

‘y/n, hey!’ yunjin wrapped her arm around you and leaned her head against your shoulder.

‘happy early birthday, kai!’ you had to yell over the sounds of the club. the music, the bass, the laughter, the drunk singing.

the boy thanked you shortly, showcasing his shier side now that he was faced with seeing you in person. he had a lot of confidence over the internet, but was much more timid and awkward when it came to real life. though you had seen him be much more relaxed and carefree when you were still with beomgyu. the thought of the latter being nearby still hadn’t crossed your mind.

the hour that followed became a blur. you weren’t sure how or when it happened, but you were plenty more drinks in and then dancing beside your friends. it was always like this. the movement of your bodies in time with the beat, hips swaying and your singing being lost in the volume. yunjin was dancing the closest to you, having taken your hat and now laughing as the dancing became less and less serious. kazuha was busy talking to a guy behind you, just close enough for you all to keep an eye on the situation. yunjin’s shoulder bumped into yours as she continued to dance, and sakura came over in the midst of a conversation with chaewon. feeling your mouth go dry, you explained your need for a cup of water to yunjin before pushing your way out through the crowd.

stepping out into a less crowded section of the club, you let yourself breathe for a minute. your hands were in your hair as you took blind steps towards the bar.

and then you collided with him.

beomgyu rushed out an apology, thinking you were a stranger until your eyes met. your arms dropped down to your side instantaneously. the music seemed to slow down in speed; the constant chatter suddenly coming to a stop. you stuttered over a few replies before deciding to just step past him and head for the bar as you had initially intended. his fingers wrapped loosely around your wrist.

‘y/n,’ his voice seemed to echo despite the environment.

‘oh, um,’ you pulled your wrist back towards yourself, and his hold dropped in an instant. ‘sorry for bumping into you.’

‘don’t worry about it,’ he shook his head slightly and took a step back. he pursed his lips and tapped his fingers against his cup, debating on his reply. but then he took a few more steps backwards, before turning into the crowd.

you swallowed and headed for the bar, your legs suddenly feeling like jelly.

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