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cinnbar-bun · 6 months

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Kiss the Swordsman (Mihawk x Reader)

Summary: Inspired by "Kiss the Girl" from The Little Mermaid.

Perona is frustrated that Mihawk won't confess his feelings for you, so she hires Zoro to take part in a scheme to get Mihawk to admit his love for you.

Word Count: ~2.9k

Rating: SFW

You can read this on my AO3 here!

Perona glared deeply at you and Mihawk, who were quietly sitting and eating breakfast. You passed him the butter without him asking, and he refilled your cup while you were cutting your food.

Zoro raised a brow as he stopped shoveling his pancakes into his mouth. “Why’re you so angry?”

Perona’s frown grew fiercer as she crossed her arms. “I’m mad Mihawk hasn’t made a move!”

Zoro glanced at Mihawk, who was taking a sip of his coffee.

“I dunno, he looks like he’s moving just fine,” Zoro shrugged. Perona smacked his shoulders.

“Not like that, idiot!” She shouted. Zoro picked his ear and continued to eat.

“Dunno what you mean then.”

“Ugh! You’re so clueless!” Perona pointed at you and Mihawk. “It’s so obvious they like each other!”

Zoro swallowed another pancake whole and shook his head. “I know you didn’t just say that while I’m eating.”

“Well I did!”

“Ugh… whatever,” Zoro sighed. “Besides, what are you talking about? They don’t like each other.”

Perona narrowed her eyes and forced Zoro to look at Mihawk. “You’re blind. Look at how he looks at (Y/n)!”

Mihawk, at the moment, was focused on his breakfast and Zoro grit his teeth.

“He’s not even looking at them…”

“Y-you just missed it!” Perona’s cheeks turned red as she wagged her finger. “Trust me, he stares at them a lot!!”

“So what? Maybe (Y/n)’s just got a stain or something. What do you want me to do about it?” Zoro tiredly responded.

“I’m not asking you to do anything ab-,” her eyes lit up as she gasped loudly, making Zoro jolt. “That’s it! You’re a genius, Zoro!”

“I am…?” He asked, unsure if he was going to like her next few sentences.

“Mhm! You just gave me a new idea! We go make Mihawk confess his love for (Y/n)!”

“But does he even-“ Perona cut Zoro off by placing her index finger to his lips.

“Shhhh… trust me. It’s foolproof.”

---

“So, tell me again how this is supposed to make Mihawk confess?” Zoro asked as he held the shovel in his hand.

“Duh! (Y/n) will just fall into this hole and maybe get injured or something,” Perona proudly smiled as she covered the hole with a net of leaves. “Mihawk will swoop in and realize seeing the love of his life fall into a hole was too much, then he’ll look into (Y/n)’s eyes and be so emotional over their safety and have to confess!”

“I don’t think that’s gonna pull a confession out of him.”

“What do you know, lughead?! Have you ever dated someone before?”

“No,” Zoro scratched his chin. “Neither have you.”

“Well that’s just- um, ah- just hush! Shhh! I hear them coming.”

Perona dragged Zoro behind a tree to peek out and see her victims. Mihawk and you were clad in your usual farming attire, with you carrying a bucket of compost for your garden. Perona rubbed her hands and chuckled, waiting for the glorious moment to come when…

“Oh, wait, Mihawk, there’s something over there,” you pointed out.

“Hm? Ah…” Mihawk hummed in acknowledgment as you both began walking away from the path where the hole was. Perona gawked and gripped the bark of the tree.

“No! Those two-!”

You and Mihawk noticed a small burrow close to the field of root veggies. “A rabbit, I believe,” Mihawk murmurs, crouching down to the small nest. Before he can even take a look, a grown rabbit bolts out of the hole and dashes under Mihawk’s legs.

You jump as the rabbit runs past you, and Mihawk recovers to quickly chase after it. The swordsman is fast and swift, able to keep up with the animal, while you’re struggling to close the gap due to the heavy bucket in your hands.

“And, got you-“ Mihawk leans forward to grab the rabbit, but as he does so, his foot makes contact with the nest of leaves that Perona hid the hole with. “Agh!”

Mihawk lets out a loud yelp as the rabbit slips from his fingers and he plummets to the bottom of the (thankfully) shallow hole.

You drop the bucket and rush over to him, looking down at him inside the hole.

“Mihawk! Are you alright?”

He dusts himself off, examining how his white shirt is now stained with brown mud and crumbled leaves.

“Yes. I’m quite alright,” he answers smoothly, as if he didn’t just fall face first into a hole.

“Do you need a hand?” You ask, extending your hand to him.

“Thank you, (Y/n),” he accepts, pulling himself up with ease. “Are you alright? You’re not injured, are you?”

You shake your head. “No, not at all. I wasn’t the one who fell into a hole, anyways. I’ll go check on you back at the castle.”

“Much appreciated. But first-“ he craned his neck to Perona and Zoro’s hiding spot, causing them to shriek and fully hide themselves behind the trunk. His hawk eyes narrowed at them as he slowly made his way over to them.

It all happened in a blur, as suddenly the two were lifted by their collars as Mihawk made them face the fields.

“Since you two love playing in the dirt so much, I’ll allow you the opportunity to till each and every field today. And while you’re at it, fill that hole again,” he stated coldly, his voice giving no room for argument or interpretation.

Perona and Zoro gulped at the massive garden.

“If you two try this stunt again, I will have you become fertilizer. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes, Mihawk,” Perona and Zoro nodded and weakly gave in. Given how Mihawk could be, this was perhaps his form of mercy to them. Mihawk dropped them and walked back to you, examining your hands.

“Ah, you have a small mark. Next time, I’ll carry the bucket for you,” Mihawk commented.

“It’s not a problem, Mihawk. I can do it just fine,” you chuckle. “Come on now, let’s go make sure you’re not bleeding.”

“I most certainly would not be injured from that small of a hole.”

---

Perona growled as she crossed off yet another idea from her list.

“Maybe you should give up,” Zoro stated nonchalantly as he was taking a sip of his drink.

“I can’t! I can’t, because if I don’t, Mihawk is never gonna do it and he’ll die alone like a boring old man!” Perona sobbed. “He can’t keep hiding his feelings! I just don’t get why none of these have worked…”

“Gee, I wonder why injuring (Y/n), burning books, breaking glass, and ruining dinner would make Mihawk not confess,” Zoro deadpanned.

“Shut up, smartass! I just… I just know that deep down, (Y/n)’s the best thing in his life, and I’m not letting them walk away thinking he doesn’t care!”

“That’s surprisingly caring of you.”

“I’m gonna get violent!” Perona stomped her foot.

“Just take it easy! You’ve been bombarding them nonstop and making us have to do so many chores. I’m not gonna clean any more dishes because of your matchmaking.”

Perona huffed and nodded. She was exhausted from all the punishments Mihawk gave her after the many stunts she pulled, and manual labor was so not cute. She slid to the floor.

“This is hopeless…” Perona mumbled. Zoro saw how dejected she looked and sighed.

“Look, I’m not a romance expert, but why don’t we try something a bit smaller? Ya know? Something that doesn’t end up with (Y/n) or Mihawk getting something broken?”

“Like what?”

“Well, I dunno, I figured you’d tell me what people to be romantic. Damn, if only I had that cook here…”

“Cook?” Her eyes lit up. “Cook! That’s it! We can make them a candlelit dinner!”

---

Another of Perona’s shenanigans. Mihawk sighs as he opens a letter that tells him to get dressed and be outside in the courtyard.

“Why did she sign it as (Y/n)…” he asks himself, confused why Perona would think he wouldn’t recognize what your handwriting looked like. Regardless, considering she seemingly put so much effort into this, he plays along and does as told, careful to “dress up nicely” as Perona so eloquently wrote. He fixed his hair and made sure to brush his facial hair before heading to the courtyard.

“Now, Perona, I hope you have a good-,” he stops when he sees you’re the person standing, waiting in the courtyard. You look breathtaking, elegantly dressed up in an outfit that fits you perfectly. For a moment, Mihawk forgets what he was doing and trying to say. You chuckle and step closer to him.

“You got her letter, too?” You ask. Mihawk nods.

“I’m not sure what she’s thinking now.”

“Neither do I. But it’s been a while since I wore something like this, it’s a nice change of pace.”

Mihawk stares at you unemotionally, and you’re worried he thinks poorly of what you just said or how you look.

“Yes… it’s a lovely change of pace,” he adds, his face softening. “You look stunning, (Y/n).”

The compliment makes you smile, and he feels his face get warmer at seeing your gorgeous smile his way.

“Come, let’s take a seat, I’m sure Perona has some plans for us,” he offers his hand. You take it and he glides swiftly to the small, white table with a beautiful candelabra in the center. Mihawk pulls out your chair and helps you sit, like a true gentleman.

“I’m honestly surprised she’d done all of this,” you comment. “I wonder why.”

“I could hazard a guess,” Mihawk replied, before Zoro arrived in a tux.

“Evening, you two,” he states, holding a notepad. “The uh-“ he flips through the notepad and you and Mihawk see an obvious script that Perona wrote for him. You hold in your laughter while Mihawk looks unamused. “Y-yeah, sorry, the dining room proudly presents… your dinner!”

Zoro turns around and makes a motion to grab something, only to grab air. “Wait, where’s the food?”

Mihawk pours you a drink as Zoro fumbles with the notepad and flounders to find the cart full of food.

“It seems there’s been a technical difficulty,” Mihawk mumbles.

“Oh, be easy on them,” you tease.

Perona stomps to where Zoro is and smacks his head with the notepad.

“I told you to put the cart there!” She hisses, you and Mihawk are able to hear her perfectly. “Now they’re going to have their dinner ruined!”

“Hey! I’m sorry! I thought it was here!” Zoro whisper-yells back. He thankfully finds the food cart this time and pushes it towards the table. He then places a silver dish in front of each of you and removes the lid. “There we go! Dinner!”

“Appetizer,” Perona corrects.

“Appetizer,” Zoro amends.

“Thank you. May we have some privacy?”

“Ohhhhh, of couuuurse!” Perona nods, too obvious in her scheming. She grabs Zoro as the two of them hide in a nearby bush.

“They do realize we know where they went, right?” Mihawk whispers to you so they can’t hear.

“Just let them have this. They worked very hard for it.”

“I understand, but their behavior is quite…”

“Intrusive?” You add.

“Very much so,” he sighs as he drinks. “It took me until Perona broke three cups to understand this was deliberate.”

“For a bit, I thought they were trying to kill me,” you joke.

“They’d know better than to try such a thing,” Mihawk shakes his head.

“Although, knowing they’re trying to pull this off makes it a bit sweeter,” you comment.

“What do you mean?” Mihawk raises a brow.

“It’s sweet that they’re trying to do this for us. It’s rare we get to spend time together like this nowadays. Usually it’s us taking care of them and training them, but now they’re making us a candlelit dinner.”

Mihawk’s lips curl into a grin. “You are correct. Even though I would not have done it like this, it’s still rather charming.”

You and Mihawk quietly chatted throughout the three course-meal. Occasionally, you heard the grunts and arguing between Perona and Zoro from their hiding spot in the bushes. Mihawk would urge you to ignore them as you two laughed and reminisced throughout the evening. Seeing Mihawk relax more and more as he continued talking to you was a treat for Perona and Zoro.

“I think… I think I’m starting to see what you mean,” the swordsman said.

“See! Told ya!” Perona smirked. “Look at how he’s melting at their words and smiling.”

“I didn’t think he could do that,” Zoro replied, impressed at how you managed to make Mihawk’s lips form a grin.

“They’re almost done eating, now for phase two!” Perona pumped her fists and shot up from the bush. You and Mihawk glanced at her as she floated towards the woods, with Zoro following after her.

“What do you think they’re up to now?”

“I feel as if I really do not want to know,” Mihawk sighed. You two waited patiently, until Perona and Zoro came back with a pack of Humandrills. Your eyes widened as you gasped, while Mihawk stayed silent, waiting to see what would happen next. Perona forced the Humandrills to stop before she pulled out a box from a nearby bush.

“Now do what we said!” She demanded as she shoved a violin to a Humandrill. The Humandrill began to make disapproving noises at her commands. She gave a few more Humandrills other instruments before she pointed at Mihawk.

The Humandrills looked up the Warlord and then forced a nervous grin and nodded, beginning to play their instruments in sync. You were amazed as they played a slow, romantic song.

“I…I didn’t know they could do that,” you mumble.

“Neither did I,” Mihawk stared in awe. You were so entranced by the makeshift orchestra that you didn’t notice Mihawk looking at you, as if debating with himself. He heard Perona and Zoro clear their throats and glanced to them. Perona and Zoro pointed at you and nodded.

“I guess this was their plan from the start…” Mihawk whispered before he stood up and cleared his throat. “(Y/n).”

“Hm? Yes, Mihawk?” You asked, looking into his eyes with an expecting expression. He extended his hand to you.

“Would you like to dance?” He inquired, his eyes briefly moving away from yours. A bright smile was on your face as you nodded and took his hand.

“I’d love nothing more,” you answer, and for a second, you think you notice a red blush appear on his cheeks.

You two head to the center and Mihawk gently pulls you in closer, an arm around your waist as your other hands are clasped together. He sways with you, careful to not be too forceful or rough. The Humandrills are getting more excited, along with Zoro and Perona, as some of them begin to hum and vocalize.

Your smile is bright and beautiful as you look radiant, even in the night sky.

“I hope you are enjoying tonight.” “I am, very much. I won’t forget this night for a long time,” you reply. Mihawk closes his eyes and nods.

“I don’t think I will, either.”

He twirls you around as you let out a laugh from the thrilling motion. You two continue to look into each other’s eyes, the unspoken feelings you have for the other clear to the both of you. Despite being in such a vulnerable position, Mihawk finds the feeling rather enjoyable. Having you in his arms, dancing underneath the stars to some beautiful music after a lovely meal- he hasn’t felt this carefree in a long time. You lean closer to him and Mihawk enjoys how you’re trying to get his attention. But you already have it.

He stops dancing, keeping you both locked in an intense eye contact with his arm around your waist. It’s only you two now, as Mihawk gulps and slowly leans his face to you, silently asking for you to reciprocate. You close your eyes and do the same, your lips meeting his in a soft kiss.

It’s not lecherous or sloppy, but a gentle kiss with you that says everything he cannot verbalize.

He loves you, loves you so much that he can’t help but be so gentle and yearn for you. How he wishes to protect you and continue to have your presence within his life. How he loves your smile, your voice, your words, your everything that makes you, you in this lonely world.

He wishes to say more through touch, but the need for air arises as you both move away.

“I love you,” you say first. He presses kiss to your forehead.

“I love you, too.”

Perona and Zoro clap at your confessions and Mihawk remembers that he’s in front of others.

“Perona, Zoro,” he calls, his voice low. The two jolt nervously, unsure of what he’s going to do. His lips curve upwards as he glances at them and says a simple phrase, “Thank you.”

#one piece x reader #one piece oneshots #one piece #dracule mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #mihawk x reader #divider by saradika #x reader

1K notes · View notes

pin-k-ink · 1 month

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possessory // kuroo tetsurou

tw ⇢ rivals to lovers, sexual tension, possessive kuroo, fingering, begging, finger-fucking, locker room sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, getting caught, marking, some yaku x reader if you squint

wc ⇢ 9.3k

a/n: my love for yaku shining through this fic. i’d to bite my knuckles trying to not write a threesome. luckily i’ve already planned something for my baby

The whistle pierced the heavy air like a gunshot, signaling the end of the heated practice match. You barely registered the shrill sound over the thrumming of blood in your ears as you panted harshly, chest heaving from exertion.

Your narrowed gaze remained locked onto the tall, rangy figure across the net - those sharp, watchful eyes that always seemed to glitter with something more feral than simple competition whenever you squared off. Kuroo's lips curved in that all-too-familiar razor's edge of a smirk as he raked his sweat-damp hair back from his forehead in one long pull.

The casual arrogance of the gesture made you grit your teeth against a low snarl. As if he didn't already know full well how obscenely distracting the subtle ripple of his arm and shoulder muscles could be when--

You viciously derailed that wandering train of thought before it could lead somewhere utterly unacceptable. There'd been enough heated incidents between you already without indulging a treacherous fixation on the physical. Even if Kuroo seemed hellbent on upending your restraint at every turn.

"Nice effort out there," he drawled loudly as the teams began separating to their respective benches. "I can definitely see some improvement from the last time we played."

The words were seemingly innocuous enough. But the low, gravelly delivery dripped with Kuroo's typical infuriating condescension. You felt your hackles rising instinctively at the spark of challenge banked in his goading stare.

"You're really working those compliments for all they're worth today, aren't you Kuroo?" you shot back acidly, pointedly raking your gaze over his sweat-soaked jersey with obvious disdain. "Need me to send you a thesaurus so you can freshen up that material a bit?"

Kuroo's eyes flashed briefly at the barbed retort, but the edges of that smirk only deepened further in a way that made your jaw tighten.

"If it ain't broke..." he trailed off with a one-shouldered shrug that you refused to let your eyes linger on.

Just like that, the thick undercurrent of animosity and unresolved tension reasserted itself between you. The energy sizzling in the air took on a distinctly more charged quality, like the first building pressure of an oncoming storm about to break. You could practically taste the torrid stirrings of heat and restless aggression prickling along your limbs.

This was nothing new in the undeniably volatile dynamic you and Kuroo had cultivated over innumerable practice matches and heated encounters. That endless cycle of provocation and denial destined to build towards...what end, neither of you ever seemed to acknowledge. But the friction generated by your clashing wills could be damn near scorching at times.

On the sidelines, you were vaguely aware of teammates shooting knowing looks back and forth, clearly no strangers to the blazing intensity you brought out in each other. Every subtle interaction between you and Kuroo seemed to bleed with unspoken tension and unsettled cravings that simmered just beneath the surface.

It had long been an open secret that your rivalry extended far beyond just the court itself. Though openly admitting as much remained strictly taboo.

Kuroo suddenly moved as if to step closer, an unreadable glint flickering briefly through those penetrating eyes. For a dizzying heartbeat, you thought he might continue provoking this simmering confrontation between you in a different, more incendiary direction.

Instead, Kuroo simply hooked his thumb at you in a deliberately casual gesture dripping with unearned arrogance, as per usual. "Keep telling yourself those little lies, kitten. I've still got plenty of ways to shut that smart mouth of yours that we haven't explored yet."

The heated innuendo landed like a physical blow, stealing your breath as your pulse kicked up a staggering notch. You refused to let your imagination indulge even a second's consideration of what depraved "methods" Kuroo could possibly have in mind. Some lines could never be uncrossed between your rivalry without irrevocably shattering everything.

So you settled for a derisive snort, turning on your heel and stalking away from that dark, all-too-appealing promise burning in his gaze. You refused to be the one to cave first and give Kuroo the satisfaction.

Just like always, the explosive friction between you would remain unresolved. No matter how urgently it simmered and begged for combustion, you would hold the line of restraint...

For now.

The charged encounter hung thick in the air as you tried and failed to shake off the lingering effects of Kuroo's taunts during the cool-down stretches. No matter how you willed your focus elsewhere, you were persistently, maddeningly aware of his presence across the gym floor.

Of the way he moved with that deliberately careless, arrogant swagger - all long, powerful limbs and sinuous grace as he bent and extended through the stretching forms. Every motion seemed calculated to snag your wandering attention, to goad your eyes into tracing the sculpted contours of muscle shifting fluidly beneath sun-kissed skin that glistened with a fine sheen of exertion.

You grit your teeth and averted your gaze stubbornly each time you caught it straying. But the phantom echoes of Kuroo's sinful murmurs about "shutting that smart mouth of yours" reverberated through your heated thoughts in an endless torrid loop.

Unbidden, your mind provided tantalizingly vivid flashes of just what form that insolent threat might take if he ever dared carry it out. You imagined the hot brand of Kuroo's mouth crashing against yours in a searing, breath-stealing kiss born of too much aggression and too little restraint. His calloused palms mapping out every whisper-soft inch of feverish skin as you both finally surrendered to the smoldering madness of your rivalry entirely.

The mental images proved so viscerally potent that you nearly missed the loud clatter of a water bottle being knocked to the floor a few feet away. You startled, cheeks flushing guiltily as you realized Yaku was eyeing you from the next mat over with clear amusement wrinkling the corners of his eyes.

"You're sure looking pretty spaced out over there," he commented far too innocently. "Everything...okay?"

Willing your features back to a carefully neutral mask, you shot your teammate a pointed look. "I’m fine, Yaku. Just still feeling it from the second set. Not sure where my head's wandering."

The lie felt hollow even to your own ears. But Yaku seemed wise enough not to press any further, simply nodding before continuing his regimen.

On the far side of the gym, you caught the briefest glimpse of Kuroo straightening up from his own stretches, running one long-fingered hand through his disheveled hair in a way that really shouldn't have been so distracting. His eyes found yours unerringly through the gaps and bodies between you. You tensed despite yourself, awaiting Kuroo's next inevitable flare of provocation.

For a long, heated moment he simply held your stare in silence, making an exaggerated show of slowly dragging his appreciative gaze over your flushed features and down the lines of your sweat-sheened torso. When next he met your gaze, his expression glittered with an utterly indecent gleam that made your pulse skyrocket unwillingly.

It was like he'd seen straight through your feeble attempts at restraint and composure. Like he knew with piercing clarity exactly where your wandering thoughts had gotten derailed just now, and was silently goading you to surrender that illicit trail entirely. The challenge issued in his heated stare was clear – keep denying this combustible charge smoldering between us and find out just how far I'm willing to push those boundaries.

You refused to be the one to break eye contact first, even as the air between you grew thick and heady. Even as desire bloomed like wild embers in the pit of your stomach in a way it absolutely should never have. Not for Kuroo, not your sworn rival and human catalyst for antagonism on and off the court.

And yet it burned there nonetheless, unconcerned with the rigid compartmentalization your common sense kept insisting upon. That insidious heat threatened to scorch you from the inside if you persisted in denying it outlet through even the most inconsequential of actions.

Another minute ticked by punctuated only by the harsh rasp of your breathing and Kuroo's cat-like observance. His eyes narrowed infinitesimally as if gauging the level of unraveling restraint behind your impassive front. Waiting to see if you would finally be the one to blink first.

You lifted your chin subtly in silent defiance. Daring Kuroo to escalate this latest confrontation between you to more scorching heights if he dared. You'd weathered far worse maelstroms of his undisguised provocation than this before, no matter how potent.

The hard line of his jaw flexed in mild approval at your steadfastness before at last Kuroo's lips curved in a sharply amused smirk. The one that never failed to slice through your serenity like the sharpest of blades.

"Don't hurt yourself, kitten," he drawled suddenly in that graveled rumble of a whisper that carried easily across the gym's stillness. "I know all about holding my breath for the things I really want."

The barely veiled innuendo in Kuroo's rasped words hit you like a physical gut punch, forcing you to strangle down the instinctive flare of molten heat that twisted low in your abdomen. He knew, that insufferable bastard knew exactly what effect his grating taunts had on you despite your best attempts at impassive defiance.

You bit the inside of your cheek hard enough to taste copper, refusing to grant Kuroo the satisfaction of watching you react overtly. But the way his hooded gaze slowly raked over you made it clear he didn't need histrionics to read your body's traitorous responses loud and clear.

Kuroo's tongue swept out to drag deliberately along his bottom lip as you glared daggers back at him. The unhurried, vaguely obscene motion drew your eyes helplessly for a scorching second before you wrenched them away. You could have sworn you heard the low rumble of an amused chuckle from across the gym at your faltering composure.

The sudden jarring impact of a balled-up towel hitting your shoulder made you jolt violently. You whirled with a snarl already curling your lips, half-expecting Kuroo to have somehow slithered closer undetected just to continue provoking you.

Instead, it was simply Kenma eyeing you with that familiar half-lidded look of sardonic indifference - one earbud already dangling loose as he'd clearly sought to disengage from whatever this latest maelstrom of tension was between you and your so-called rival.

"You two need a cold shower or something?" he remarked flatly, seemingly oblivious or uncaring of the molten quality his observation took on. "Cut the foreplay and just fuck already. Could smell the unresolved sexual tension from across the gym."

You choked on a shocked inhalation at Kenma's blunt assessment, heat flooding your cheeks in a dizzying rush. The dull roar of abruptly resumed activity within the gym filled your ringing ears as others seemed to freeze mid-motion at his crass outburst. A quick glance towards the other side of the court revealed Kuroo staring back with eyes comically wide, lips parted around what was probably intended as a reflexive denial.

The awkward tension expanded with each passing second it went unacknowledged until finally Kenma rolled his eyes tremendously and simply stuffed his earbud back in, unmoved. The courts slowly came alive again bit by bit, the disjointed sounds of squeaking sneakers and voices just on the edge of too-loud once more filling the air.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Kuroo straightening his shoulders beneath the weight of your heated stare, almost like steeling himself for your answering volley. But rather than issue another round of barbed taunts, you simply clenched your jaw, grabbed your jersey and spun sharply on your heel to stalk from the gym before anything else could further test your tenuous grip on restraint.

Once in the empty locker room, you leaned against the blissfully solid surface of your locker and allowed yourself a shaky exhale. Your heartbeat felt like it was rabbiting out of control as you ruthlessly quashed the wanton direction your thoughts insisted on straying.

Kenma's crass remark shouldn't have landed with such searing effect, you told yourself sternly. Shouldn't have made your imagination conjure up such deliriously vivid fantasies about Kuroo pressing you up against the cool steel at your back right now as you finally surrendered to--

"Fuck," you growled harshly, pressing the heels of your palms against your traitorous eyes until spots of color burst across your vision.

You couldn't keep allowing your bitter rivalry with Kuroo to careen so perilously close to the edge of oblivion repeatedly. To let your cataclysmic friction continue escalating to such a razor-sharp precipice every time he proved insufferable enough to provoke every simmering frustration and desire boiling over inside you.

No matter how infuriatingly, inexplicably attractive you found the insufferable prick, you simply couldn't keep indulging these...what? Wild, indecent fantasies about him pressing you up against rough tile as you finally --

You took a deep steadying breath to abort that train of thought before it could derail completely off the rails into utterly forbidden territory. Again. Some lines could never be uncrossed between you and Kuroo without shattering the foundations of whatever this frenzied push-and-pull dynamic existed upon.

No matter how tempting the prospect sometimes felt.

The scalding shower spray did little to rinse away the lingering haze of heated frustration still clouding your thoughts. If anything, the punishing jets of water needling over your taut muscles seemed only to amplify the electric tension still humming beneath your skin in the wake of your latest encounter with Kuroo.

You grit your teeth against a low growl bubbling up your chest as your mind unhelpfully replayed the smug curl of his lips around those parting taunts - challenging you, practically demanding you admit some undeniable undercurrent still burned white-hot between you despite your constant denials.

Beneath the thundering spray, your hands clenched and unclenched in a vain attempt to rein in the roiling mixture of bitter antagonism and darker, more primal cravings that invariably got stirred up whenever Kuroo slipped beneath your defenses. You couldn't seem to prevent flashes of slick skin and molten friction from battering against the shattered remnants of your restraint.

The memories felt so viscerally potent in the aftermath of his provocation that you swore a strange staticky charge was building along your limbs. Like thunderheads rapidly converging toward their inevitable lightning strike. Wild, pent-up energy begging for release in an unbridled eruption you knew better than to give voice or form to.

With a sharp exhale, you braced your forearms against the shower tile and allowed the scalding spray to rinse over your neck and shoulders as you hung your head, trying in vain to steady your ragged breathing and derailed composure. Try as you might, you couldn't seem to shake the persistent imagining of Kuroo's larger, rougher hands replacing yours in mapping the slick trails of water over your overheated skin.

You swallowed hard against the vivid fantasy, against the wanton direction it kept trying to careen down despite your best efforts at restraint. Kuroo's shadowed silhouette would be so infuriatingly at home behind you like this - a predatory prowl straight from your most fevered subconscious yearnings as he pressed himself flush against your back with a low rumbling exhale that resonated to your very core.

The intrusive daydream flickered with dizzying lucidity behind your tightly screwed eyelids. Every slick inch of heated muscle rippling beneath your hands as you pivoted to seal your lips against his in a searing collision of unleashed desire. Kuroo's rough palms branding blazing paths down slippery expanses of soft skin as you arched into his maddening caresses in silent, desperate plea to finally explore those molten hungers to their conclusion...

With a choked groan, you whirled and pressed your forehead against the cool tile in an attempt to forcibly evict your tormentor from weaving his provocation into such a deliriously vivid fantasy. But the afterimage of his taunting silhouette remained burned onto the backs of your eyelids alongside the whispered promise of indecent transgressions, should you ever finally yield to that unchecked inertia carrying you straight towards them.

A dizzying shudder lashed through your overwrought frame as an anxious noise close to a whine escaped your trembling lips. You couldn't do this, couldn't keep allowing Kuroo to effortlessly provoke you to such maddening heights of frustrated longing and combustible lust with only a few heated looks and expertly wielded taunts.

It was like battling the inescapable allure of a riptide, the seductive siren call of its irresistible pull growing stronger and more irresistible every time you slipped beneath its churning rip currents before somehow wrenching yourself back to the surface at the last gasping moment. How long until even the most monumental force of will proved too feeble to keep dragging you back from the brink?

Kenma's crass words about cutting the "sexual tension" echoed unwanted through your whirling thoughts. You tried to swallow back the imagery his crude accusation summoned up, but some details still crept in past your battered restraints.

You. And Kuroo. Tangled up in a fevered, inevitable conflagration of slick heat and molten friction, napalm-bright desires burning until you were utterly consumed in a blast of searing rapture…

With a snarled curse, you reluctantly killed the shower spray - unable to escape your own torturous libido in the steamy confines any longer. Perhaps some fresh air might finally clear your head enough to dull these relentless indecent urges before Kuroo inadvertently provoked you into fulfilling Kenma's crass prediction at last.

The locker room feels oppressively warm and stifling as you emerge from the showers, skin still tinged pink from the scalding spray's futile attempt to rinse away your lingering frustrations. A thin sheen of perspiration almost immediately rekindles across your flushed chest and brow.

You swipe your forearm roughly across your hairline, trying and failing miserably to ignore the way rivulets of water trace tantalizing paths over your collarbones and breasts, down the taut planes of your abdomen. Each shimmering droplet's wake seems to leave pinprick trails of heightened sensitivity in its wake, maddeningly conspicuous against your overheated awareness.

With an annoyed grunt, you pull open your locker and reach for the thin cotton undershirt draped over the top shelf...only to freeze as an unmistakable, heady musk suddenly wafts up to assault your senses.

That rich, earthy, and utterly masculine fragrance feels like a physical blow lancing straight through your already compromised restraint. Instantly, you're assaulted with a barrage of unshakably vivid imagery unlike anything that has plagued you previously beneath the showers.

Kuroo looming over you, eyes hooded and lips parted around harsh exhales of barely leashed hunger. The heat of his solid frame pressing you back against unforgiving chill steel as electric shockwaves of friction build to maddening crescendos between you. His body branded like a searing brand against the sweat-slicked expanses of your bared skin as you arch and writhe beneath the exquisitely rough mapping of his hands, thighs parting reflexively in a wanton entreaty for deeper indulgence—

"Fuck," you snarl, hurling the offending garment across the small space like it has bitten you. Your breath saws harsh and shallow as you recoil from the vivid flashes still bombarding you from all sides.

That obscenely provoking scent...it hadn't been your shirt you'd started to pick up at all, you realize with a delayed sort of horror rapidly turning your belly to soured granite. The realization brings with it a whole separate series of incendiary imagery you are utterly powerless to prevent from sparking behind your tightly screwed eyelids like the world's most sadistic filmreel.

You, burying your face against that thick knit of soft fabric and breathing deeply of the headily masculine notes lingering there. Of salt and skin and vaguely woodsy musk as you try in vain to chase memories of their original source, to resurface those haunting fantasies like some lecherous addict chasing their next molten hit.

Perhaps even allowing one hand to trail slowly down your slick torso, fingertips blazing scorching paths southward as lurid shadow-flashes of Kuroo's sharply angled features fill your mind's eye. Of his heated gaze darkening to feral approval as you unapologetically surrender propriety to slake those smoldering cravings he's systematically and expertly stoked within you past all possible willpower to deny.

With a violence that belies you, you wrench your eyes back open to inspect the contents of your locker more closely. Sure enough, hanging carelessly amongst your own neatly folded pile at the very bottom is one of Kuroo's unmistakable crimson team jerseys. Your fingers spasm against the urge to reach down and tunnel into the temptingly soft knit, to willingly soak in that unholy musk until you're dizzy and molten with the imprint of him in your most forbidden fantasies.

Instead, you squeeze your eyes tightly shut again as a broken gasp rattles from between your clenched teeth. This just keeps getting worse, that tantalizing scent rapidly proving itself your own personal brand of siren's call towards crashing into the deepest pits of sin and self-indulgence—

The sound of an opening door freezes you like a stunned animal in your tracks. Your entire body snaps rigid with tension as your pulse kicks up several panicked notches, utterly dreading whoever might now bear witness to your clear unraveling.

Heart thundering in your ears, you slowly crack one eye back open with trepidation...only to feel the weight lift somewhat as Shizuku, one of your teammates came cautiously around the corner, cheeks slightly flushed in embarrassment.

"Oh! I'm so sorry," she stammers, clearly flustered at having stumbled upon you in this state. "I didn't realize anyone was still in here. I can come back later!"

You wave a dismissive hand before she can retreat, not quite trusting your voice not to come out incriminatingly wrecked just yet. Trying to regain your composure, you attempt to slow your ragged breathing as subtly as possible.

Shizuku nods hesitantly, not seeming entirely convinced as her sharp gaze continues raking over you with growing concern. "Are...are you feeling okay? You look really flushed."

The obvious worry in her tone makes guilt churn unpleasantly in your gut. You can only imagine what sort of indecent, overwrought state she's finding you in right now. A vivid flash of her somehow catching you red-handed while giving in to your wanton urges ricochets through your mind, making you swallow thickly against a rising blaze of heat.

Desperately, you shake your head in an attempt to physically dislodge the utterly unacceptable fantasy before it can take seed. Pushing a tight smile onto your lips, you wave Shizuku forward reassuringly.

"I'm fine, really!" you insist in a voice that thankfully doesn't waver as much as you'd feared. "Just...stepped out of a really hot shower is all. Probably going to head out soon anyway."

Shizuku visibly relaxes at your answer, offering a relieved smile. "Oh good, I'm glad it's nothing serious then!" She steps over to her own locker and begins digging through her gym bag without a second thought.

You let out a shaky breath, using her presence as a convenient excuse to turn your back and refocus on getting dressed and out of here before another intrusive fantasy tries to take root.

You stare at the rumpled crimson jersey with a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Of course his scent had to linger cloyingly around the fabric in a way your senses couldn't seem to ignore, even after that shockingly scalding shower.

Heaving a frustrated sigh, you reluctantly snatch up the borrowed top and give it another inspecting look. There's a faint smear of deodorant along the collar line and a few scattered strands of short black hair stubbornly clinging to the soft cotton weave. Unmistakable signs of repeated wear and the masculine essence now permanently embedded into every delicate thread.

Your pulse immediately kicks up as new waves of heated compulsion crest over you at being surrounded by Kuroo's intimate essence like this. But grinding your teeth hard, you resolutely refuse to feed the treacherous undercurrents of want that seem insistent on cresting to the surface at every provocation from him.

No, you're determined to get yourself under control here. To put some distance between the unwelcome distraction he's become and regain a clear head once more. If putting on Kuroo's clothes helps provide any sense of closure regarding these increasingly indecent preoccupations...well, you're desperate enough to try just about anything at this point.

Before your resolve can waver any further, you slide the jersey up and over your head - the soft knit sliding easily over your still-damp skin and clinging to every curve of your torso like a second skin. Almost immediately you're enveloped in the smoky, vaguely citrus-tinged aroma of Kuroo's body wash and deeper musk. The disconcertingly familiar scents seem to drape you in a suffocating veil of molten heat that licks dangerously at the edges of your restraint.

You stagger back a few steps, chest heaving as fresh waves of phantasmic imagery come swarming like sharks to chum. Reveries of Kuroo's heated stare boring into you as he takes in the sight of you in his clothes with dark, burning approval. Images of him advancing with leonine grace, callused hands slipping beneath the loose hem to sear scorching trails over the naked, sweat-slick expanses of your--

With a frustrated growl, you grasp fistfuls of the offending fabric and yank it vigorously away from your sticky skin in a desperate attempt to gain some reprieve. But the damage is already done - the mere suggestion of being swathed in anything bearing Kuroo's personal essence is enough to trigger the instantaneous mental avalanche of indecent cravings and salacious fantasies you struggle so mightily against.

You pant harshly, feeling uncentered and perilously close to coming utterly unraveled like never before. How are you supposed to withstand this constant barrage of molten provocations from your sworn rival? How much longer can you even remain within your own right mind before surrendering to the siren's call towards combustible freefall?

Riding on the crest of that maddening spiral of thought, you make a desperate decision. With horribly shaky fingers, you grab at the button seam of your soaked gym shorts and frantically tear them open. You don't dare look down, don't want to see what sins your hands might inadvertently commit beneath the allure of Kuroo's infused jersey.

Instead, you squeeze your eyes shut tight and exhale a steadying breath as you shimmy out of the last of your clothes. You have to get a grip, have to focus your spiraling thoughts on literally anything else in this instant before you find yourself sleepwalking towards the edge of a point of no return.

It's only once your traitorous, damp gym wear lays discarded on the tile floor that you finally find the courage to crack one lid open hesitantly. When no fresh barrage of illicit visions immediately assault you this time, you gradually allow your death-grip on the jersey's hem to loosen.

There's still no question that wearing this small piece of Kuroo's essence so intimately against your naked skin feels nothing short of debauched. Like you've willingly attired yourself in sin made fabric in an act of lurid indulgence. But whether it's the cortisol dump from your panic, or simply that you've now grown painfully accustomed to the potency of his scent and provocation, you're no longer drowning in the tsunami of wanton cravings from only moments ago.

In fact, the steady drape of the already sweat-dampened jersey now feels refreshingly cool and grounding against your heated flesh. Like the familiar, lived-in scents enveloping you no longer hold the power to summon such incendiary visions - at least not in the sheer vast torrents they previously wrought.

You take a deep, cleansing breath and instantly feel some small fraction of clarity beginning to return. With it comes the growing certainty that letting Kuroo and your relentless rivalry send you careening down such lascivious mental spirals is both self-destructive and foolish.

The hard choice crystallizes with that clear-eyed realization - by putting your own scent and essence directly over his, you can gain back the upper hand in this personal battle toward retaining your restraint. By making Kuroo's jersey unequivocally yours through sheer force of intimate proximity, you neuter its power to continually push you towards mental unravelings of indecency.

You nod decisively at that plan of attack, already feeling some grounded sense of self-possession return.

Your first order of business after dealing with this inappropriately tempting distraction is returning Kuroo's clothes, of course. But damned if you won't savor a small sense of petty victory over regaining sovereignty over your turbulent thoughts and want first.

Then you can return to plotting ways to get deliciously even with your callous tormentor for all the maddening provocations and heat he's incited within you lately...

With your fragile sense of restraint regained for now, you quickly gather up your discarded gym clothes and shove them into your duffel bag, not wanting any more lingering reminders of Kuroo's scent messing with your hard-won clarity.

You move with renewed determination, trying not to dwell too long on the deliciously deviant thrill of simply existing in nothing but your rival's loose jersey while you prepare to leave the locker room. There's no point denying how utterly and deliciously illicit the sensation feels against your bare skin. But rather than unraveling you towards indecency once more, the mere fact that you've asserted control over the intimate situation helps keep those more prurient impulses at bay.

Still...that doesn't prevent the faintest tendril of heated want from curling low in your belly at the unmistakable mental flash of Kuroo's expression should he happen to stumble upon you like this. Of the blazing trail his gaze would no doubt scorch across every inch of visible skin as his eyes hooded with smoldering surprise and primal, undisguised hunger.

You bite down on your bottom lip hard enough to taste copper at that vivid imagining, feeling fresh pinpricks of arousal lancing through you. As always, the merest consideration of Kuroo's intense, provocative presence proves to be like singeing tinder to your subconscious libido - threatening to spark into a conflagration of wanton thoughts and indecent urges if left unchecked.

Shoving down that dangerous trail before it can consume you utterly once more, you quickly shoulder your bag and stride for the exit with as much purpose as you can muster. You're so focused on wrestling back control of your derailed restraint that you nearly crash headlong into Yaku as he rounds the corner, clearly on his way in after practice.

You both freeze mid-stride, eyes going wide as you take in each other's equally stunned expressions. For a longmoment the awkward silence stretches out between you, punctuated only by the sounds of your harsh breathing loud in the tiled stillness.

Then finally, seeming to find his voice first, Yaku lets out a low whistle as his sharp gaze rakes over you in one long, assessing sweep. "Well well...don't you look pretty cozy there, babydoll," he remarks, pitching his tone somewhere between casual observation and wry insinuation.

You feel heat flood your cheeks despite your best efforts, suddenly hyperaware of just how utterly compromising this whole situation must appear to any outside observer. Kuroo's jersey barely grazes the tops of your thighs, leaving the long toned lengths of your legs completely exposed and tantalizingly on display when paired with nothing else.

"Yaku, I - it's not what it looks like, I can explain--" you begin hastily, shame and embarrassment vying for control in your rasping tone.

But he simply shakes his head with a knowing grin, cutting off your flustered protests before they can truly take root. "Don't worry 'bout it, babydoll. Not my business to judge, and it sure ain't my place to cockblock either. Just tell that smug bastard Kuroo I want my fucking jersey back sometime this year if he's gonna be loaning it out like this."

With a wink and a shit-eating grin, Yaku saunters around your frozen form and continues on into the locker room, whistling cheerfully beneath his breath all the while. You can only gape after him, dizzy with equal parts embarrassment, annoyance, and grudging amusement at just how casually he apparently accepts stumbling across what he assumes to be the aftermath of some secret tryst between you and your hated rival.

Yet despite the overall awkwardness of the situation, some profoundly petty part of you also feels an innate thrill at the idea of Kuroo finding out you've been traipsing around in his clothes like some deliciously insolent afterglow.

The thought of watching those sharp features of his cloud over with displeasure and jealous possession lights an undeniable flare of wicked satisfaction in the depths of your psyche. You can't quite smother the devilish smirk that quirks your lips at the mere idea of provoking such spikes of dark territoriality from your arrogant rival over you flagrantly disregarding the "boundaries" between you in such a salacious manner--

Your molten chain of thought is brought up short, however, as another familiar figure comes prowling around the corner with the sort of leonine confidence that immediately sends a frisson of electric awareness zinging down your spine. For a dizzying instant, it's like every scintillating erotic daydream you've been battling lately roars to vivid, lurid life right before your very eyes.

There's Kuroo, strutting in with that same loose-limbed cockiness you've come to expect, likely fresh from pushing his own training regimen to its limits as usual. His practiced ease falters perceptibly as he clocks the fact that you're not only still here, but...well.

You watch with thirsty relish as those piercing amber eyes blow wide in a potent combination of shock and molten male-appreciation - the unmistakable signs of desire and possessive outrage already warring behind them as they blaze over every exposed inch of skin you've left available to his perusal.

"The fuck, kitten?" he finally manages in a slightly strained growl. "You just couldn't resist helping yourself to what's mine, could you?"

You shrug one shoulder lazily, not even trying to feign innocence as you let your gaze blatantly roam over his frame in return. "Don't act so scandalized, Kuroo. It's not like you've never wanted to see me in this state before."

His nostrils flare at your brazen words. You can see the way his throat works as he swallows thickly. "That's a dangerous assumption to be making there, sweetheart," he bites out, clearly trying to regain some veneer of control.

Chuckling lowly, you hook a finger into the jersey's neckline and tug it aside just enough to expose a teasing glimpse of your collarbone and the swell of your breasts. "Is it though? Or are you just getting flustered by how easy it'd be to peel this off me and see what other bad decisions I've made?"

A muscle ticks in Kuroo's clenched jaw at that. He takes a single predatory step closer, movements tight like a compressed spring as his eyes darken perceptibly. "You never did know when to quit provoking things you can't handle, kitten."

You hold his smoldering stare boldly. "Maybe I'm just finally acknowledging things I've wanted to provoke all along."

The loaded suggestion seems to snap the final threads of Kuroo's restraint. A low rumbling growl reverberates from deep in his chest as he surges forward in one sinuous, barely leashed movement. You only have a split-second to react before his broad frame is looming over you, caging you back against the lockers as he braces an arm above your head.

"Careful what you wish for, babydoll," Kuroo breathes in a horribly tempting rasp right against the pulse point of your throat. His free hand skates up beneath the hem of the jersey to sear over the bare skin of your inner thigh. "I'm not feeling too generous with things that belong to me right now."

Any provocation or pithy response dies on your lips as those calloused fingertips drag a scorching trail higher. Instead, all that escapes is a shaky exhalation that Kuroo seems to drink in like a fine vintage as his lips curve in a predatory smirk.

"That's what I thought," he rumbles in that gruff, smoky tone that vibrates through you in delicious waves. "Now why don't you be a good little thief and show me exactly what sins you've been coveting, kitten?"

The low, carnal rumble of Kuroo's challenge hangs thickly between you as that large, calloused hand continues blazing a scorching path up the sensitive inner expanse of your thigh. You can't quite muffle the trembling whimper that stutters up from your chest as those questing fingertips dare to drift ever higher beneath the loose hem of the jersey.

"That's it, kitten..." he purrs in a voice made viscous and ragged by naked want. "No more pretenses now that we've reached the inevitable conclusion of those teasing little games of yours."

Kuroo's free hand suddenly winds into your hair, not quite gentle yet not overtly harsh either as he guides your head back with a subtle tug. The new angle leaves the long vulnerable expanse of your throat deliciously exposed and straining against the first delicate blossoms of bruising kisses he presses there like sin-soaked brands.

"This is what you were begging for all along, isn't it?" he rasps against your feverish skin between each indecent new imprint of his lips and tongue. "All those brazen little taunts and glimpses of temptation you couldn't resist flaunting right in front of me. Like some shameless siren calling out for her reckoning."

His wicked mouth has found that one spot just below your jaw that never fails to rob the strength from your limbs. You tremble violently as Kuroo laves his scorching tongue over that sensitive point in clear exploitation, surrendering a stuttering keen of pure rapture that seems to spur him on like a drug.

"Fuck, kitten...do you have any idea what it took not to lose control and take what's mine with my bare hands whenever you bared your slutty little neck for me?" he growls with heartfelt vehemence even as his free hand continues its molten trek higher and higher beneath the jersey's hem. "How many times I've had to wrestle down the urge to mark every single inch of you in ways you'd never forget just who those sweet little sounds belong to?"

That large, rough palm finally, blissfully finds its inevitable destination between your parted thighs. You shatter utterly at the first undeniable caress of deft fingers slicking through your embarrassingly wet folds. Kuroo growls deep approval at the state of utter ruin you've been reduced to by his carnal words and touches alone.

"Look at you...so fucking needy and desperate for me already," he rumbles with that unholy confidence only a man utterly assured in his dominance can possess. "And to think you tried to lecture me about teasing...you've spent who knows how long just aching to be taken apart like this."

You whine shamelessly, head thrashing against the unyielding steel of the lockers at your back as two thick fingers find your entrance and begin circling in maddeningly light, teasing strokes that scatter every coherent thought to the winds.

"P-Please..." you hear yourself whimper in a broken, debauched rasp that only seems to make Kuroo's eyes blaze darker with fresh coals of sin-steeped possession igniting behind them.

"Please what, kitten?" he demands in that low, ritualistic timbre that somehow reaches straight down into your very core and seizes every hidden erogenous zone in its grip. "Use that messy little mouth and beg properly for what a desperate little slut like you so clearly needs from me."

"Kuroo, fuck- I need you to...I need you inside me, please!" The words tumble from your lips in a heedless slurry of desperation that would have shocked your more restrained self into mortified silence. But here, now, with those large fingers still lazily circling your molten entrance as he raptly drinks in every debased plea, nothing else seems to matter.

In one smooth motion, Kuroo's hand leaves your sweat-dampened hair as he hitches the jersey's hem higher in a wordless command you swiftly obey - until the garment is rucked up to allow his searing gaze full view of the sinful ministrations he's reduced you to. Of just how wrecked and shattered you've become beneath his skilled touches and unrepentant provocations at last.

"That's it, open those gorgeous fucking legs for me and watch just how thoroughly I'm going to relieve you of these indecent little cravings once and for all," he vows in a growl dripping with decadent sin and virile promise.

A single broad fingertip finally, blissfully delves into your soaked folds - breaching the snug walls of your entrance with the sort of languorous, deliberate pace that speaks volumes of the unhurried plans Kuroo has for your ruin. A second blunt digit follows not long after, slowly and carefully working its way deeper into the tight sheath of your pussy, stretching the untouched muscles in the most toe-curling, obscenely exquisite agony imaginable.

"Christ, kitten, you're so fucking tight..." Kuroo growls, a raw note of lust and male-appreciation bleeding into his voice as he takes in the sight of his fingers buried deep in your fluttering, dripping core. "Just look at how eagerly your slutty little cunt is trying to suck me in even deeper...tell me, are you this starved for my cock, or just that desperate for a good hard fucking?"

"Fuck, Tetsurou, don’t talk like that-!"

You break off in a keening gasp as Kuroo's thumb finds your clit and begins working the engorged bundle of nerves with slow, precise movements. His other hand still holds the jersey's hem up and out of the way, giving him a perfect view of his fingers pistoning slowly in and out of your soaked depths.

"What's wrong, kitten?" he purrs with an evil chuckle, leaning in until his breath scalds hotly against your ear. "You don't like the truth being laid out before you like this? Admit it, you're soaking wet just thinking about me filling you up until I'm the only thing you can think about anymore."

"I-It's not like that, please, you're driving me crazy--!"

"That's exactly the fucking point, sweetheart." Kuroo punctuates his assertion with a particularly vicious thrust that makes you mewl and arch into him. "Now stop holding back and tell me exactly what I want to hear, or I'll keep making a mess of your pretty little cunt until you can't remember how to speak anymore."

Your eyes fly wide open at that threat. "Kuroo, I swear to god, if you don't finish what you've started, I'm going to--"

"What, kitten?" Kuroo growls, teeth finding the tender juncture of your throat and jaw in a savage nip that sends a shockwave of electric sensation straight through you. "Gonna try and fuck yourself on my fingers until you come? Is that what you want, to ride my hand and fuck yourself silly while I watch?"

"Kuroo-!"

"Then go ahead," he commands with a feral, carnal sort of relish. "Ride my fingers and prove how much you need this, kitten. Let me see just how depraved a slut you really are, and I'll give you everything you've been begging for."

"Y-you bastard, I swear, I'm going to kill you!" you choke out as your hips begin bucking up against his hand of their own volition.

But rather than taking offense at your weak insult, Kuroo simply flashes that wolfish smirk that's haunted so many of your lurid fantasies. His amber eyes bore into you with a burning intensity that makes something primal and instinctual twist and writhe within you.

"Oh, don't worry, kitten. I fully intend to fuck you into submission, right here and now, just the way you've always wanted. That is, unless you'd rather beg me on your knees like a good little girl to fill your pretty, empty cunt with my cock and fuck you like the greedy little slut you are."

At his filthy promise, an electric charge zings down your spine and pools like liquid fire low in your belly. You feel yourself tightening around his fingers like a vise, hips bucking wildly in search of that final, elusive threshold of release as Kuroo continues working your clit mercilessly.

"Come for me, kitten," he breathes in a guttural rasp that resonates with something far more fundamental and bestial. "Come for me now."

Like a puppet cut from its strings, your entire body seizes up. Your back arches almost painfully as a scream rips itself from the back of your throat - a sound so wild and animalistic, you scarcely recognize the wanton creature it's torn from.

The force of your climax rips through you with the same white-hot intensity of a lightning strike, making you buck and thrash wildly against the unforgiving steel behind you. The pleasure is so acute, so agonizingly blissful, it's as if every nerve ending has been stripped raw and exposed to the elements.

It feels as if your release goes on forever, wave after wave of unadulterated pleasure crashing through your trembling limbs and wringing a steady, high-pitched keen from the very core of your being. It's only Kuroo's free hand coming up to cover your mouth that smothers the wanton sounds of ecstasy tumbling from you without restraint.

The world narrows to the sensation of his strong, calloused hand pinning you down with easy dominance. To the feeling of his fingers pumping slow and steady within the spasming clench of your oversensitive walls, as if wringing every possible drop of pleasure from your spent body.

It's a full minute or so before the world begins to gradually filter back in through the haze of blissful release. As it does, you become gradually aware of the way your entire body is still trembling with small aftershocks. Of the way Kuroo's dark head is pressed into the hollow of your shoulder, his lips moving as if in prayer as he breathes you in like some rare perfume.

When he finally pulls away to meet your gaze, his expression is almost reverent. "There she is," he murmurs with a soft chuckle, eyes warm and fond as they roam across the slack lines of your face. "I've been waiting a long time to see you looking that undone, kitten."

You swallow past a suddenly dry throat, the last vestiges of euphoria still buzzing through your veins as you try to process the magnitude of what's just happened. Of the way the heat and tension between you has reached its inevitable, combustible conclusion at last.

But rather than being sated or even satisfied by the act, a fresh wave of molten want immediately re-ignites like a furnace in the pit of your belly. Suddenly the memory of his calloused fingers buried inside you feels like an itch beneath your skin that can't be satisfied with anything less than the fullness of his cock.

"Tetsurou, please..." you hear yourself rasp, the need thick and urgent in your tone as your gaze drifts meaningfully down his still-clothed form.

Kuroo follows the path of your gaze with a low chuckle. He slowly withdraws his fingers from your sopping entrance, drawing a soft whimper from your throat at the loss. You're too far gone to be embarrassed by the lewd, wet sound the motion creates, however, too consumed by the sudden, aching emptiness now gnawing at you.

"Easy, kitten, we're getting there," Kuroo soothes, reaching down to deftly unfasten the fly of his shorts. You feel a sharp thrill shoot through you as his large, capable hands free the swollen length of his cock at last, leaving it standing flushed and proud before your rapt gaze.

"Look at that, so greedy you can't even wait for me to take these off properly first," Kuroo chuckles, giving his stiff length a slow, leisurely stroke that makes something dark and possessive ignite in the depths of his gaze. "Tell me, are you going to be a good girl and take all of this for me, hm? Or am I going to have to remind you exactly who's in control here?"

"T-tetsurou..." you manage, already feeling that dark, viscous hunger unfurl within you.

The sight of Kuroo's cock, swollen and rigid with lust, is enough to drive any further attempts at coherency from your mind. All that matters is having the thick, pulsing heat of his cock filling the empty, aching void between your thighs at last.

Kuroo's gaze rakes over you ravenously. He looks like a man ready to devour every last inch of you without restraint. And right now, you'd willingly submit to anything and everything he demanded if it meant feeling the full weight of his cock plunging deep into the molten sheath of your pussy.

"Turn around, kitten. Face the lockers and hold yourself open for me," he commands, already guiding you with firm hands until you're braced against the cold steel. "I'm going to fuck you like this. Gonna make you take all of me at once, and leave you a mess of cum and debauchery. Then maybe I'll drag you home and show you exactly what it means to be mine."

The mere thought makes you dizzy. You quickly move to obey, spreading your legs wide and bracing yourself against the unyielding lockers as you bend over and expose the glistening pink folds of your cunt.

"Please, Tetsurou, I need your cock so bad, please," you hear yourself babbling without a care, so consumed by the maddeningly empty ache inside you, nothing else seems to matter. "Please, just fill me up and fuck me already, I'll be a good girl and do whatever you want, just please!"

Kuroo's responding growl of approval is nearly subhuman in its depth. In the next instant, the heavy, searing heat of his cock is finally pressing into the entrance of your drenched pussy. You choke back a sob as his length plunges mercilessly in to the hilt with one fluid thrust.

For a long moment, Kuroo remains perfectly still. It feels as if every muscle in his powerful body has turned to stone as he struggles to maintain some modicum of restraint. But when you begin clenching around him with short, desperate jerks of your hips, it's like a switch is flipped.

His hands find your hips in a bruising grip, fingers digging into your soft flesh hard enough to leave marks as he pins you in place and begins thrusting into you with ruthless intent. With the first powerful surge of his cock, all higher functions of thought seem to cease. The only thing you can focus on is the way his length fills you with such delicious friction, splitting you open and leaving you breathless and utterly wrecked.

"Fucking hell, kitten, look at the way your slutty cunt is trying to suck me in," Kuroo groans, sounding dangerously close to his own peak. "Feels so fucking good...can't believe I've been waiting this long to make a mess of you, fuck-!"

His movements are becoming more and more frantic, losing the careful rhythm of his previous thrusts as his hips buck into yours with the frenetic intensity of a wild animal. Every harsh, jarring slap of his pelvis against your ass, every inch of his cock stretching you to the limits, is like a drug straight to your system.

The pressure builds and builds until your body is practically singing with the sheer anticipation of release. Your vision is beginning to go blurry around the edges, the air thick and syrupy as it leaves your lungs in a series of helpless, mewling cries.

Kuroo's large, rough palm suddenly snakes its way around your waist, his thumb finding your clit and pinching it hard as he pounds relentlessly into your tight sheath. You scream as the sudden stimulation sends you plummeting off the edge, your entire body seized by a second orgasm that hits you like a tidal wave.

In the next instant, Kuroo's hips jerk violently against yours, his entire body going rigid as a drawn bow as his release finds him. The sound that tears itself from his chest is guttural, bestial, the kind of noise a man can only make when reduced to his basest, most primal instincts.

You can feel his cock pulsing as he shoots load after load of cum deep inside you, filling your womb and flooding your inner walls with the evidence of his pleasure. You're so far gone, your head spinning and your limbs quaking, it's like floating outside yourself, watching the scene play out from afar.

You don't know how much time passes like that. How long the two of you remain tangled together, sweat-damp and sated and panting as if you've both run a marathon. It feels like ages before you begin to surface once more, awareness gradually returning with each measured breath and the slow, deliberate way Kuroo's hand begins smoothing over your trembling flesh in lazy circles.

When he finally slips free, you can't quite stifle the faint sound of loss that escapes you. But before you can mourn the loss too deeply, Kuroo's already spinning you around to face him, capturing your mouth in a hungry kiss as his arms come up to band around your waist.

"Mmm, I could get used to that," he murmurs as he breaks away, resting his forehead against yours. His voice is still ragged and slightly breathless, but there's no mistaking the languid, decadent satisfaction dripping from his tone.

You chuckle weakly, unable to suppress a shiver as his hand begins idly stroking the curve of your ass. "You really are a bastard, Kuroo. What happened to showing a little self-control, hm?"

"I could say the same to you, kitten," he returns, not the least bit remorseful as his mouth twists into a wolfish grin. "But if you'd really rather be calling me a bastard than moaning my name, well. We can go right back to square one and I'll fuck you stupid again until you're screaming the right name."

"Oh god, shut up," you groan, burying your face in his chest.

Kuroo laughs, a dark, sinful sound that makes your pulse flutter even in the midst of your mortification.

"What the fuck?!"

A new voice rings out from the locker room entrance, making both you and Kuroo freeze mid-embrace. Turning slowly, you see Yaku standing stock-still with a stricken expression on his face. He takes in the two of you, the state of undress, and the obvious aftermath of a tryst with a look that can only be described as a mix of shock, disgust, and mild arousal.

"Seriously, Kuroo, in the locker room? You couldn't find a better place to fuck this shameless hussy?" he complains, making no move to hide the fact that he's blatantly checking you out despite the indignant tone.

Kuroo simply shrugs one shoulder, completely unrepentant. "What, jealous, Yakkun? You can always join us, I'm sure she wouldn't mind a second cock."

"Kuroo, for fuck's sake!" Yaku snaps, throwing his hands up. "This isn't a fucking gangbang! Go get a room somewhere, I'm trying to get dressed here!"

"I don't mind a little audience," you remark casually, reveling in the way Yaku's eyes go comically wide as he processes the implications of your words. "But if you don't hurry up and make a decision, I'll be riding Tetsurou's cock again."

"I can't fucking believe you," Kuroo breathes with a dark chuckle. "First the jersey and now this...you're really not going to give me a break, are you?"

"Nope."

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader smut #kuroo smut #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurō #kuroo tetsuro smut #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo x reader smut #yaku morisuke

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swordsandholly · 2 months

Note

def need more ditzy reader with mechanic 141- the only thing that tops my love for military men is blue collar boys <333

make sure to take care of yourself tho lovie!! don’t burn urself out :))

I for sure want to write more of her. Hopefully after this insane week at work I’ll be able to really sit down and crank out some writing. For now I’m battling my way through Ch 3 of Across the Way

But pls enjoy this little not proofread experimental snippet I wrote for ditzy reader

“Look.” Your landlord sighs loudly. Like you’re the one inconveniencing him. “I’ll send someone out.”

“That’s what you said two days ago! And three days before that!” You stomp your foot at no one just to get some of the anger out.

“I’ll get to it when I get to it.”

“Why can’t you-“ The line cuts before you can finish. The jerk hung up on you! What the hell!

You pout, plopping down into your desk chair and sighing. What are you supposed to do? You’re not allowed to call a handyman according to the lease and you don’t have a boyfriend right now. You can’t keep washing pans in the bathroom. It’s gross.

You huff.

“Alright?” Simon asks and you whirl in your chair. How does he walk so quietly?

“Yeah…” You pout harder under his steady gaze, slipping down further into the chair.

“You’re a terrible liar, luv.” His eyes crinkle in corners with a smile.

“Well…” You shrug, twiddling your thumbs in your lap. “My kitchen sink has been broken for a whole week and the landlord won’t do anything about it! I called and called and he just keeps saying he’ll send someone and then doesn’t!” Your voice pitches at the end, real annoyance bleeding through into the edges of your words. You fist your hands in your skirt.

“That’s all?” He raises an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you just ask one of us?”

You blink twice, staring up at him. Your face heats and you look away bashfully - not wanting to admit you didn’t think to ask for their help. Stupid. “I don’t want to be a bother…”

“I’ll come by after work.”

“You don’t have to-“

“I’ll be there.” He nods before marching back into the garage. You just blink after him as he goes.

True to his word, Simon shows up at your door with a massive tool box in hand. Really, he still can’t believe you live in such a shit complex. Price pays you well enough. The locks might as well be paper-mache. Simon lowers his mask before knocking. He trusts you with his face - hell you probably forget it every time you look away - but he also wants you to trust him too. For whatever reason.

You’re staring when you open the door. Big doe eyes looking up at him and blinking slowly. He wonders what goes on behind those blank eyes of yours - if it’s nothing at all or such a chaotic dialogue that you can’t process it enough to pay attention.

All or nothing.

“Gonna let me in, doll?” He asks. You startle, not realizing how intensely you zoned out.

“Oh! Yes!” You jump out of the way, letting him into your small studio apartment. Every time he thinks your shorts can’t get smaller he’s proven wrong.

Simon takes a look around, huffing at the net full of stuffies hanging on the wall. Everything about your home is soft - soft colors, soft fabrics. It smells like vanilla, just like you always do when you come into the shop. His eyes lock briefly on a well-loved sewing machine covered in stickers with a project still under the needle. You must have been working on it before he got here.

Did you mean to leave your bra hanging on the back of that chair right by the kitchen? Lacy and lilac. He’ll have to remember that for some other time. Maybe your birthday.

“Let’s ‘ave a look.” He sighs, knees popping as he crouches in front of the sink. It’s a fucking mess, that’s for sure. At least you figured out how to turn the water off.

“Pipe’s busted.” He says. “I can seal it but it’ll take a sec.”

“Okay.” You murmur.

Simon sighs as he turns onto his back to get a better look. He doesn’t miss the way you stare blatantly at his midsection as his shirt rides up. He might adjust some to expose just a bit more.

You really are the least subtle thing in the planet, aren’t you?

“Can you come hold the light f’me, luv?” He points to the toolbox.

“This one?” You ask, as if it isn’t the only flashlight in the box.

“Yeah.”

“Like this?”

“Yup.” At first he expects you to sit silently so he can concentrate, but he quickly realizes that was far too presumptuous.

“Do you have a girlfriend, Si?” You ask quietly.

He huffs. “No.”

“Oh.” You chew your lip. “You seem like the kind of guy that would.”

Simon has never heard a bigger misread in his damn life but he’ll take it as a compliment, he supposes. “Why do you ask?”

“Cause this is boyfriend work and you’re good at it.”

Simon tries to see your logic - he really does - but he just has no clue how those things are even remotely related. Sure, guys fix things for their girlfriends but calling it ‘boyfriend work’ when anybody with two cents could do it is a bit silly. More than, if he’s honest. He just grunts in response, at a total loss for how to respond.

Simon looks down at you. The way you kneel as your cleaving spills out of your tiny tank top - one of many you insist on wearing so often. He can give into temptation just a little bit, right? “Gonna need you to get closer, doll.”

“Oh!” You scoot forward until your knees brush his side. So ready to listen. Cute.

“Can you lean in a bit?”

“Like this?” You lean forward, chest pressing against him while your hand splays over his midsection for balance. Fucking hell.

“Perfect. Good girl.”

It’s bold and a bit uncoordinated even for him. Something Johnny would try. The purposeful choice of words seems to go right over your head. Instead you blush and smile, shifting your hips just a bit. Your chest pushes further into him. So soft.

Fuck.

You’ll be the death of him. Thank god you’re too unobservant to notice that he’s rock fucking hard.

He’s already done with the sink by the time of this little exchange, but he pretends to tighten some useless bolts anyway just to keep you against him a little longer before shooing you away. It’s cute, the way you scramble to get out of the way. Simon turns the water back on before standing, and gesturing toward the sink.

“Give it a try, luv.”

A little furrow forms in your brow as you step forward to turn it on, crouching and standing to make sure the leak has stopped. You turn the faucet off and whip your head around with a grin.

He’s pretty sure you burst an eardrum with the pitch of the squeal you let out, bouncing over and tightly wrapping your arms around his waist. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

“It’s no pro-“ he cuts off as you push up onto your tip toes and press a kiss to his cheek. He can’t help but bark out a laugh. Little minx.

“Oh, I got some lipstick-“ You reach up to smudge it off but he bats your hand away. He’ll wear it back to the garage and show off the kiss he got. Johnny’s going to absolutely fume.

#answered #simon ghost riley #call of duty #ghost cod #cod x reader #ghost x reader #cod #simon x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #fem reader #mechanic au

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sommerregenjuniluft · 2 months

Text

@jegulus-microfic april 27 - diplomacy - 1117 words

aka there’s a few unexpected babies in a shed and regulus is a master of persuasion

It starts with Harry.

He’s running around in the back garden as Regulus peeks outside to call him for dinner.

When Regulus calls him he comes bounding over the meadow, red cheeked and flushed and a little sweaty.

Regulus bends down to smack a kiss on his damp hair and presses a glass of water into his small hands.

Harry gulps half of it with vigor, breathing loudly and then puts it back down on the table with a thunk. “Uh- Paps.”

“Mhm?”

“Where’s Mochi?”

“Mochi?” Regulus hums, realizing he actually doesn’t know where their cat is, “I haven’t seen him in the house today.”

“Oh,” Harry makes, his brows drawing together.

Regulus’ chest tightens, “I’m sure he’ll be back by bedtime, pumpkin.”

The rest of the afternoon passes, the sun sets and Mochi still hasn’t shown.

Harry gets ready for bed worried but James makes up a bedtime story about adventure cats with supernatural powers and all’s well.

That is until it’s two days later and Mochi still hasn’t wound up yet.

Regulus gets actually concerned and quietly talks to James in bed at night about the possibility of Mochi having been hit by a car. James is optimistic though, gently stroking through his curls and kissing his forehead, reassuring Regulus that their cat will be back.

True to his fiancé’s word Mochi turns up just another day later. Safe and sound, no wounds or scratches and bonking his forehead against their legs like nothing was amiss.

Harry is ecstatic and Regulus sighs so heavy in relief he feels 10 pounds lighter—that is until Mochi keeps flitting back out into the garden, mewling loudly.

James and Harry go out into the yard to play on the trampoline, thinking their cat may just want some company out in the nice weather.

“I dunno, love,” James shakes his head, clambering down from the trampoline, “It sounds like something is bothering him. He keeps walking around, yelling at us.”

Regulus combs an errant strand of James’ hair back from his forehead, frowning slightly. He sighs, “It does seem like he wants something from us.”

Harry is still bouncing on the net, then he announces suddenly, “I think maybe he wants to show us something.”

James and Regulus exchange looks and then they help Harry put on his shoes again and start following behind a relentlessly meowing Mochi.

Their cat takes them out back towards the end line of their property to Monty’s old shed they don’t really use for anything.

Mochi squeezes right through a broken panel of wood inside, still meowing.

Regulus throws James a skeptical look but James just shrugs and rattles and yanks at the old door until it swings open.

That’s when Regulus hears it.

More meowing. Tiny, high mewling.

Baby kittens.

His eyes meet James in an instant as a small gasp elicits from Regulus’ throat, eyes widening in adoration and teeth digging in his lower lip, ridiculously excited.

James takes Harry up on his hip with a grin and nods Regulus to enter first.

With the help of the sunlight streaming in through the open door they find the little family in an instant.

The mom is a beautiful grey-ish tabby and there’s three little furballs attached to her stomach.

There’s one similar to Mochi with all black and white spots, another tiger striped one with an orangey undertone and then an entirely black one safe for one white spot around its ear that immediately has Regulus breaking out into coos.

Mochi runs around between Regulus’ legs all excited, screaming still, and he gently shushes their cat with head scratches. He bends down to say hello to the mom while James explains everything to Harry behind him.

It takes a few contemplative sniffs from mom before she takes a careful lick at Regulus’ finger. Mochi smells like them so Regulus is glad the mom realizes they’re family and not a threat.

Regulus beckons James and Harry over and pulls the latter between his spread knees, murmuring quietly, “These are Mochi’s babies, Harry, just like you are ours.”

Harry nods importantly, eyes fixated on the kittens.

“We have to introduce ourselves to the mom first though before we get to say Hello to the babies. Like this,” Regulus takes Harry’s hand in his and lets the female cat sniff him too.

Harry giggles when she licks him with her rough tongue and Regulus’ heart nearly bursts when she tilts her head into his little palm. James follows suit, stroking through Regulus’ curls with his other hand. It’s a marvelous moment shared between the three of them and Regulus desperately hopes that it’s going to stay a core memory in all their minds.

They run back to the house to get a pillowed basket and blankets for the mom and babies to transport back in. At the end of the day Regulus’ cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

Until James comes up behind him while brushing teeth, arms wrapped around his stomach and asks who they want to give two of the babies to.

Regulus thinks he must be clinically insane for the suggestion but he doesn’t say so just yet. He has to play his cards right here to get what he wants and what his little family clearly deserves despite whatever James may think for whatever obviously illogical reason.

So Regulus just shrugs and spits into the sink.

The next morning when Harry is already in kindergarden he grabs James on his way out to door to work.

He drapes himself all prettily against the door frame, purposly toying with the ring on James’ finger. “So,” he starts, “About the kittens.”

James already slips into a playfully skeptical expression, “What about them?”

Regulus clears his throat professionally, “After diplomatic discussions we found that there was no way for us not to keep them.”

“A-huh?”

Regulus huffs, “Yes.”

“Just between the two of you…” James prods, one brow raised.

“Yes.” Regulus’ expression is unwavering stone. He’s so standing his ground. Not budging. He’s a wall.

“All 3 of them?”

“They have names, to your information,” Regulus spits. Then adds in a more quiet voice, “Strawberry, Vanilla and Matcha.”

James only hums in return, but the corners of his lips are already curling with a badly concealed grin so Regulus knows they’ve as good as won.

“So,” he sucks his teeth, cocking his head and blinking up at his fiancé from under his lashes, “We’re gonna need a bigger car tree.”

James’ grin blooms full force and he rolls his eyes behind his glasses. Then he smacks Regulus’ ass so hard, Regulus makes a sound that sounds embarrassingly similar to the ones the kittens make.

#jegulus #hi im late with this >.< almost finished it then thought it was trash. finished it now and i like the ending so *shrugs*#enjoy<3 #jegulus microfic #james potter #regulus black #jegulus raising harry #starchaser #sunseeker #domestic jegulus #jegulus fluff #james potter x regulus black #regulus black x james potter #lune’s tiny fic

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dilatorywriting · 9 months

Note

Oh, 4k? Hold up then, looks like you dropped this 👑👑👑

CONGRATS TO YOU, ONE OF THE BEST WRITERS HERE!! If I could partake in the event, I'd love something with Riddle and prompt 17; love my short red angry king and alice in wonderland in its entirety tbh. If the Reader could be a bit of a rule breaker too and have known Riddle since childhood that'd be awesome as well. Again tho CONGRATULATIONS!! HOPE NOTHING BUT THE GOOD STUFF FOR YOU!

Gender Neutral Reader x Riddle Rosehearts Word Count: 2.3k

Prompt 17: "I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do."

[EVENT MASTERLIST]

You were annoying.

At least, that was the kindest way his mother described it. And Riddle would have to agree. Always hanging over his shoulder like some overeager parrot and rattling off nonsense into his ear just as loudly. He was hardly allowed out to the park—mother said his studies were far too important, and even as a child Riddle certainly agreed. Mostly, at least. Enough to never argue—but when he did get time to sit out in the sun under the shade of the grand, painted trees, you were always there.

A bother, a nuisance. Sticky fingered with the remnants of swiped tarts and chattering on, and on, and on.

“I tried to follow a rabbit,” you said, rolling around in the dirt like a heathen. Weren’t you worried your parents would scold you for mucking up the smooth, blue fabric of your jacket? “But it ran too fast and I fell. Do you think I could catch it with a net, maybe?”

“Hopped,” Riddle correctly, stiffly. “Rabbits hop.”

“Well this one ran,” you argued back. “Faster than a car. Faster than a cheetah.”

“Cars are faster than cheetahs,” he said, turning to the next page of his book. “So grammatically you should have put that part second.”

You flopped back onto your stomach and pulled yourself to your knees, before scuttling behind his back and peering over his shoulder.

“How can you pay attention to a book with no pictures in it?”

He hunched up his shoulders and you dropped your chin down with a bonk. Refusing to budge.

“Some of us don’t have the attention span of goldfish,” he sneered, turning his nose up at you.

“Well, if I could only think as much as a goldfish, I wouldn’t want to waste it on that,” you snipped back. “Doing homework in a park. What are you, a robot?”

“I’m efficient!” he snapped. “Mother says I shouldn’t waste time on frivolities.” On things like you, he doesn’t say. A part of him wants to. The part that sounds like biting words and a sharp, firm voice demanding he get to bed by 7pm unless he wants to rot his brain. Another part is… is worried that you might not like that. And then you’d just get even more annoying.

You reached around and snagged the textbook out of his hands with an audible ‘yoink!’ and immediately ran off at full speed. Which is never fair! Because you’re used to climbing up trees, and sprinting through mud, and scaling boulders like a wild beast. And Riddle is—Riddle isn’t! He would never! So it takes him an age to catch up to you. By the time he does, he’s huffing, and puffing, and as red as his hair.

“Don’t do that!” he snapped, livid. “Ever again!”

“Alright,” you shrugged, a loose grin on your mouth as you returned your pilfered treasure. You’ve barely even broken a sweat. “I won’t bother you during homework, Riddle.”

Which is… That’s certainly what he wanted Of course it was. But it made something in his stomach drop nonetheless. Probably because you’d just find new ways to be irritating. Yes. That’s certainly why.

The first time he felt it was on his twelfth birthday.

He’d tried so hard. And he’d done so well. His exams had all come back with perfect scores, his projects and papers immaculately graded. He’d been going to bed on time every night, combing his hair exactly how his mother liked, even folding his clothes into perfectly pressed little squares. She’d seen it in one of her cleanliness magazines and had lamented how nice the style looked for something so tedious. But Riddle had learned. And now his closet looked as tidy as a militia.

“Can I go? Trey’s whole family will be there. And it’s just dinner. Fully monitored!” he reassured, fighting the urge to twist his hands behind his back. “Please?”

“Of course not,” his mother droned, not even looking up from her laptop. “You’ve been doing well, but we don’t want you slipping up, now do we?”

“But—” he started, and her eyes cut up to him like daggers. A warning. “…of course, mother.”

“Good boy,” she smiled, with that smile that was never really a smile. “Now go up to your room. You can have an extra half hour of free time today,” she said, like it was something worth celebrating. “For my special birthday boy.”

Riddle had sat in his bed wishing he’d never known what a birthday was at all. And then there was a tapping at his window.

He opened it in shock, to see you hanging off the edge like a particularly determined cockroach. Which was—! No! It wasn’t safe! And you were going to get him in trouble, and—

But instead of opening that stupid, fat mouth of yours and letting of your siren call of a laugh—summoning every sensible adult in a five-mile radius to come checking for delinquents—you simply swung around a bit to reach back into your jacket pocket. Riddle almost lurched forward when he saw your fingers scrabble a bit along the ledge. Ready to fall. But then you righted yourself and gently deposited a little, paper-wrapped parcel atop of the smooth surface.

And then you shot him a wink and disappeared from view, no doubt scuttling back down the siding like the demon you were.

He approached it hesitantly, like one would an active bomb. He carefully peeled back the sticky tape and smoothed out the edges of the sloppily wrapped package. Inside was a small, round strawberry tart. Freshly baked, by the smell of it. And the waft of warm, soft steam curling up from the flaking crust. With a little note tucked beside it in your chicken scratch. A lopsided smiley face doodled at the corner, beaming up at a hastily scrawled ‘Happy Birthday, Riddle!’

He took a small bite of the little, perfect treat and his eyes burned. Something in his chest gave a worrying thump-thump.

‘Oh my god,’ he thought in a panic. ‘The idiot poisoned me.’

But aside from the horribly loud ticking of his heart, nothing else seemed to go awry. He ate the rest of the tart in silence, feeling lightheaded and far too warm. He wondered if maybe his mother was right about sugar and myocardial infarction after all.

Riddle didn’t see much of you the next few years. His mother doubled down on his study times, and he wasn’t even allowed to spend time with someone as responsible as Trey anymore. Let alone the person his parent had deemed ‘a menace upon polite society.’ The next time he saw you—really saw you. Not just your hurried waves from across the street or the trace ends of your bubbling laugh from around a corner—was when the Royal Sword Academy’s students had descended upon Night Raven for the VDC.

You were chattering away with Che’nya, the pair of you looking equally as mused and ridiculous. All splashes of raucous color and uniforms so out of place that one would hardly be able tell what institution you were meant to be a part of at all. For a moment he thought you’d walk right past. It’d been years, after all. And certainly you’d moved on to bothering some new stick in the mud.

But then you saw him and your eyes lit up. His chest gave another of those terrible thump-thumps.

“Riddle!” you all but screamed. And launched yourself at him like a feral cat. “How are you! Your hair is so neat! Did you grow out your bangs? Oh! Look at your cape! So cool! Did you know that we don’t get capes? I think that’s a crime. Especially with how yours looks,” you rambled on. And despite that lingering thread of him that demanded that you must be annoying, because that’s what you were. Loud, and uncouth, and everything he’d been raised to not be. The rest of him was… Warm. And happy, to hear the familiar chatter back in his ear.

He scoffed, hoping it would cover the noise of his pounding heart. “No one in their right mind would trust you with a cape. You’d get caught on every door in existence.”

“Oh, that’s fair,” you agreed on a nod. “But surely a top hat, at least?”

And then you were back in his life like you’d never left to begin with. Or, well, like he’d never left you.

Showing up at Unbirthday Parties with the tackiest serving plates and even worse outfits. Telling him all about the rabbit you finally managed to catch, and how it does run, Riddle. I swear. Bringing him trinkets you’d found in small shops that had no practical purpose to speak of. Breaking every rule in the Queen’s Book and smacking yourself on the forehead each time he shouted a stern reminder. You even bought a little notepad to jot down his instructions. But all it ended up being good for was an ever growing pile of doodles and little, folded, origami animals that he’d find tucked all around his room like secrets.

And amidst all of this, that thumping, bumping pressure in his chest just kept getting worse.

It was a warm day, not unlike the one all those years ago where you’d plunked yourself on his shoulder and stolen the textbook right out of his hands. Now you had your own book to read, some monstrosity on analyzing ravens and writing desks, with your head precariously close to his lap but not there. He didn’t even know why that bothered him.

“This book is too complicated,” you complained. And Riddle fought the urge to point out you were holding it upside down. “Both have quills. Is that so hard to understand?”

“That makes no sense,” he argued back.

“Of course it does,” you said, perfectly pleasant and sure of yourself. “But you know everything, so you really ought to know that too.”

He snorted. “I do not.”

“Do too.”

“Do not.”

“What’s fifteen times thirty-four.”

“That’s not knowing. That’s just math,” he argued. “And it’s five-hundred and ten.”

“See,” you poked. “I knew you’d know it.” You rolled over to stretch out on your stomach—reaching forward to twist a long blade of grass between your fingers. “You always know what to do.”

Something in his stomach turned unpleasantly at that. Had he known what to do when he’d cowed to his mother’s commands and cut you from his life? Had he known best when he’d turned away from your warm greetings and friendly overtures to hide away behind the unsurmountable walls of expectation? Worse over, did you think that he thought all those things were… for the best? That he’d wanted to push you aside like all your cheerful banter and sweet attempts to brighten his dull, miserable life had been worth nothing.

“That’s not true,” he finally said, stilted and near whisper quiet.

You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked at him with a curious tilt of the head.

“Of course it is,” you blinked, guileless and genuine. Smiling up at him from your place in the grass with that familiar, twisty little grin on your mouth and a brightness in your eyes that never seemed to dim.

“It’s not,” he said, a bit firmer. And his gaze flickered off away from yours. “I think I’m in love with you, and I don’t know what to do about it at all.”

Riddle wasn’t sure what he was expecting. Silence, maybe. The horrible, awkward, biting sort that ate away at his soul like a rat gnawing through his bones. Maybe you’d laugh at him, in that bubbling, carefree way of yours, and tell him that you thought one of those rules of his was never to lie on a Thursday afternoon. That would hurt worse than the silence, he thought.

But instead you just rolled back over with a flick of your wrist, like you were gossiping about the weather.

“Then love me,” you said, simple. “I love you. It only seems fair.”

“…oh,” he spluttered, face lighting up crimson and warm.

You hummed, as if in agreement. But to what he wasn’t sure. You looked him over for a minute, like you were searching for something. And then you reached for his sweaty hand with your own and twined your fingers there in the grass.

“If everything always made sense, nothing would be what it is because everything would be what it isn't,” you said, like that was supposed to make any sense at all. “And contrariwise, what it is, it wouldn't be, and what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?"

“What on earth are you on about?” he gaped.

You burst into delighted giggles and tucked your nose against his hip. “Silly, silly. Stop trying to analyze everything, yes? It will only make things more confusing.”

You sighed and stretched, a contented smile on your lips. You reached up to tap a finger against his nose.

“Things don’t always have to make sense. That’s what makes it fun. And, well, if you’re really that determined to be able to figure out how things are supposed to go, we can do that later, yes?”

“…Right,” he managed to eek out after a long moment. Feeling far too light and far too… too something. “Later. There will be a later.”

And as much as that would have felt like a lie all those years ago—had been a lie even—when he said it now you looked up at him like he’d hung the stars in the sky. And he couldn’t help but hope for all the tomorrows in the world.

#4k Event #twisted wonderland imagines #twst x reader #Riddle Rosehearts x Reader #Riddle x Reader #Riddle Rosehearts #My Writing #Writing Prompts

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mvybanks · 2 months

Text

SAFETY NET — ch. 4

a/n: back again!! hope you guys like this part and feedback is appreciated as always, thank you <33 + thank you so much to the wonderful @jjsbank444 for helping me write this part🤍

warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 18+, smut (oral, mentions of sex), fluff, lil bit of angst + jealous!jj🫣

word count: 4k

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—

“Don’t worry ‘bout him,” Adam had said when you were reluctantly leaving JJ to him and the rest of their teammates, “We’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

Those had been the last words he had said to you that evening before you went home, letting their friend blow off some steam in their company, perhaps having a drink or two at their usual bar – of course you hadn’t expected to see them again, outside your door, with a drunk and slightly bloody JJ hanging with his arms around Adam and Nick’s necks.

Your heart dropped in your stomach at the sight.

“What the hell happened?” You all but yelled at the two who didn’t look better than their friend, and they surely didn’t appear that less intoxicated than him.

“Listen,” Nick began, “This one can’t stop blabbing ‘bout you, and we’re a little bit drunk, and damn it he’s heavy – how do you do it?”

You could tell they had all drunk more than they were able to take, which was why you tried not to be too embarrassed at Nick’s last words. You only nodded at them to step inside and they followed your orders, quickly walking into the apartment and unceremoniously throwing JJ on the small couch. He groaned loudly, turning around on his back, almost unsuccessfully.

“Is anyone going to tell me what the fuck happened?” You asked again, angrily, as you placed your hands on your hips. The more time you spent with JJ’s roommates, the more you began to feel like their mother, for they were immature and needed more guiding than they usually received. “Adam, I told you to watch him! You said you were going to keep an eye on him.”

“I did!” He slurred, resting against the kitchen counter, “I watched him. I watched him as he kicked that guy’s’ ass.” He chuckled, followed by Nick.

They both seemed messed up, although a little bit less than JJ, and you were honestly terrified to find out what had happened in that bar. “What happened to you two, then?” You sighed.

“Those guys fought back,” Nick answered, taking some steps closer to you to affectionately wrap an arm around your neck, “Guess they were mad about our win.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, “Do you guys need something?” you asked, finally.

“Nah, Marcus is our designated driver. He’s waiting for us outside.” Adam exclaimed as he began to walk towards the door, “That one just kept whining ‘bout wanting to see you. He got insufferable.”

You tried to hide your reaction, although you knew they would’ve never remembered it the morning after. After all, Nicholas had just fallen asleep on your shoulder. “Hey, big guy!” You giggled, shrugging your shoulder to wake him up.

“Five more minutes, mom!” He cried, nuzzling his head further into you.

“Please call me or text me when you idiots get home.” You pleaded Adam as he attempted at getting Nick off of you.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Once idiot number one and number two had left your apartment, you went to check on idiot number three.

Picking a water bottle on your way, you walked to the couch and sat next to JJ, who immediately relaxed against you. “What did you do, stupid?”

“Mmh, missed you.” He mumbled as he pressed his face to your poorly covered thigh.

You couldn’t help but smile at his antics, running your fingers through his hair as he hummed at the wonderful feeling. Finally, you decided to get up, making JJ whine at the loss of contact, at which you grabbed his arm and attempted at forcing him to sit up. “C’mon, let me help you, Jay.” You whispered before you went to kneel on the couch between his legs in order to carefully analyze the damage that had been done to him. Forcing the water bottle to his lips, you made him drink the beverage, hoping that it would’ve helped with his impending hangover.

“You’re so pretty.” He slurred as he looked up at you through unfairly long eyelashes and tired eyes.

You chuckled at his words – he had to be a flirt even when he was in those conditions. Your fingers pushed his hair back, scrutinizing every inch of his face, before you sighed at the cuts that were littering his perfect features. “Why did you have to get in a fight with that guy, mh? Did you have to prove that you had more testosterone than him or something?”

He tilted his head to the side, his signature crooked grin staring at you as he rasped, “You’re hot when you’re mad.”

“Shut up, Maybank.” You playfully rolled your eyes at him because, although drunk, you knew he meant it. Mindlessly kissing the corner of his mouth, you whispered, “I’ll go get some stuff to clean these cuts.”

“Don’t go.” He pleaded, wrapping his arms around your figure and pushing his head in your chest.

Biting the inside of your cheek as you found a way to stop your chest from fluttering at his every action, you attempted at getting out of his grasp. “I’ll be back in two seconds, Jay.” And while you quickly walked towards your room, you could hear JJ saying, “I love when you call me that.”

You were praying he wasn’t going to remember this night the morning after; praying that he wouldn’t remember the way you softly cupped his jaw as you turned his head to work on his wounds, or the way you would gently swab the dried blood, cleaning the tiny cuts and protecting them with small Band-Aids – or your delicate touch, as you pushed his sweaty hair back and placed light kisses on the bandaged areas.

Damn JJ Maybank and his adorable face.

For the first time since meeting the blond man, you fell asleep with him, on your bed, your clothes still covering your bodies as he lied on top of you – and what terrified you the most was that you had never felt more comfortable.

—

“Is this what you two wild cats do on a friday night?” Nick asked you and JJ as he came down the stairs all dressed up. A playful smirk was displayed on his lips while he walked past the two of you.

It had been a week since JJ’s suspension and you had spent most of those days with him, hanging around at his shared apartment. It wasn’t like he was spending his free time sulking and being miserable, though – and you knew it better than anyone else because all of this time that he didn’t know what to do with had been replaced by you. It seemed that JJ had become insatiable, his hands always finding their way to your body whenever he had a chance, and you had no complaints about it.

That evening was only one of the many that you had decided to spend with him.

“It’s game night.” JJ shrugged, barely giving his roommate any attention. He rolled the dices in his hands and moved his little metal token according to the numbers on the dices.

“Where you going?” You inquired, noticing his attire.

“I have a date.” Nick affirmed, “So, while you two play monopoly, I’m gonna have sex tonight.”

You couldn’t help but notice the smile that JJ was hiding as he counted the fake money on the floor where you were sitting on. “Yeah, sucks not being you.”

“You sure you don’t want me to take you out, Y/n? I’d definitely dump this girl for you.” Nick winked and you rolled your eyes at his behavior.

“She’s not interested, Young. Leave her alone.”

“I mean,” you interrupted, causing the two men to look at you, “It’s a tempting offer.”

JJ lifted one eyebrow at you and he hated how much his stomach twisted at the thought of you going out with another man, even as a joke. “One that you’re not going to accept.”

“And why not, Maybank?” You challenged him. A staring contest between the two of you began, the game that was separating you long forgotten. Blue eyes bore into yours, an intensity that you weren’t sure you were able to mirror. “Nick, get out.” Was all JJ said, the tone in his voice low and threatening as his gaze never left yours.

“But I don’t have to pick up my date for another half an hour —“

“Get. Out.”

“You were supposed to calm him down, Y/n, not make him even more unhinged.” Nick grumbled as he left the apartment.

As soon as the door closed, JJ all but pounced on you, tossing the game somewhere in the room and forcing a loud giggle out of you.

“If you wanted me to fuck you, you could’ve just asked.” He mumbled against your skin as he left a trail of kisses from your cheek down your neck.

“It’s more fun this way.” You chuckled, although it didn’t last long for it was cut off by an unexpected moan. JJ’s hands grabbed your behind, lifting it from the ground and pressing his hips into yours.

“Can’t you feel what you do to me, baby? Mh?” You could tell he was hard, the grey sweatpants he was wearing were doing nothing to hide that anyway. “Driving me fuckin’ crazy.” His quick hands slipped your shirt off, followed by your jeans, never leaving the floor you were lying on.

“Here?” You asked when you realized that he had no intention of bringing you upstairs.

JJ was already kissing down your stomach, one hand playing with your covered breast, when his hold on your thigh tightened. “Need to eat you out right here, right now.”

Putting your own weight on your elbows to look down at him, you watched him as he positioned himself between your legs. “What if someone walks in?”

Maintaining eye contact, he began pressing his lips against your clothed heat, causing you to throw your head back. Your heavy breathing was all he needed to rip your underwear off. “Does it look like I care?” And that was when he licked a long stripe between your pussy lips, which was accompanied by the loud sound that escaped your mouth. JJ buried his head between your thighs, moaning at the taste of your arousal and the delicious sounds that you were making. He licked and sucked as if he had been a starving man, and perhaps when it came to you, he really was. Starving, because he always craved you, in every single possible way.

Your fingers threaded through his long locks, tugging on it from time to time and keeping his head in place — as if he could’ve gone anywhere else. JJ swore he could’ve gotten drunk on the way you moaned out his name, and he knew he was never going to get sober.

“Fuck — Feels so good.” You mewled on top of him before you began to massage your own nipple, trying to get some more friction.

“You taste like fuckin heaven.” JJ growled against you, the vibrations only adding to your pleasure. Inserting one finger inside you, he slightly lifted his head, “This pussy’s all mine, ‘m I right baby girl?” You furiously nodded at his words, barely even acknowledging what you were agreeing to, as if your body had a mind of its own and already knew the truth. As he thrusted another finger in your soaking cunt, he inquired again, “Need words. Tell me this pussy is all mine.” He went back to sucking your clit into his mouth, making you see stars.

“It’s all yours.” You gasped as you arched your back, “Fuck, J, I need you.”

“‘M right here, baby.” His fingers sped up inside you, angling them just right — perfectly. “Lemme take care of you.”

“Need your cock.”

JJ groaned at your words. “Jesus, baby. You can’t go saying stuff like that.” He chuckled at the way your hips worked with the movement of his fingers, eagerly trying to chase that blissful feeling. “Cum all over my fingers and I’ll give you what you want.”

And as if his words had been hypnotizing, something in you snapped, causing you to let go and your walls to contract around his fingers. Curses of his name left your lips and JJ wanted you to do that for the rest of your life — moaning only his name. “That’s it. That’s my girl.” He watched you as you took deep breaths, your chest heaving up and down, and as his mouth ached to touch yours, he listened to his own instincts and connected his lips with yours, catching them in a hungry kiss. His palms grabbed your naked skin with need, wrapping his fingers around your thighs and forcing them on his hips. Finally, he lifted you off the ground, a squeal leaving your mouth at the action.

“Need to fuck you properly, right baby?” He cockily said on your lips. The weak feeling in your limbs led you to just hum at his words and press your mouth to his again. Meanwhile, JJ gathered your clothes, for he didn’t wish for any of his roommates to find your underwear lying around, and carried you inside his room upstairs, wanting nothing but to spend the rest of his evening tangled in the sheets with you.

—

“Just admit you like him! At least a little bit.” Elle exasperatedly exclaimed, following you around the house as you finished getting ready for your night out.

JJ and his teammates had decided to spend an evening with some friends, you and Elle included, to cheer up their captain before the end of his suspension, seen it had been almost two weeks since. During that time, you and JJ had been inseparable, always hanging out and finding yourselves naked more often than not.

Your best friend had noticed this new behavior, and she knew you all too well not to have realized that there was something in your eyes that sparkled each time he was brought up in a conversation, as if the name itself brought joy to you – which you were attempting at denying in that very moment.

“I like him as a friend.” You groaned, placing your earrings in your pierced ears as you looked at yourself in the mirror. It was going to be a simple hang out, and yet you couldn’t help but want to dress up and feel beautiful – something that had been so easy to do for a while.

She scoffed. “A friend that treats you like a girlfriend and that you basically fuck every day? Damn, that’s a good friend.”

Rolling your eyes at her, you turned around, annoyance clear on your features. “I told him I couldn’t give him a relationship from the beginning, and he agreed to do this on my terms. Which means we’re just friends.”

As you walked past her and towards the living room to put your shoes on, she continued. “You can’t stop him from falling in love, you know that, right?” And while you tried to swallow the lump in your throat, she sat next to you to add, “And you really want me to believe that you would be okay if he decided to start hanging out with another woman? If he decided to stay friends but put a stop to…this because he wants to ask some woman out and actually date?”

You stared at her for a second, your mouth probably slightly agape as your hands had stopped midair for you had only grabbed the second shoe before those words had left her mouth. It should’ve been an easy answer: yes; yes you would’ve been okay with that because he wasn’t yours, and if he wanted to date someone, who were you to stop him?

Then why was there a tight, constricting sensation in your chest at the mere thought of him treating another woman the way he treated you? Lucky for you, you didn’t have time to answer to her insistent questioning, nor to yourself, because the doorbell preceded you.

“That’s gotta be him.” You announced softly before you raised from the couch and quickly reached the front door.

And there he was, handsome as always, and an adoring smile on his lips. “Hey, beautiful.” He whispered as he leaned closer to leave a gentle kiss on your cheek, his arm sneaking around your waist as he did so.

“Hi.” Sheepishly you answered, relaxing against his embrace.

The rest of the night had seemed to flow smoothly, just friends having dinner and some laughs, taking everyone’s minds off the elephant in the room – that was JJ’s suspension. JJ’s hand rested comfortably on your bare thigh, rubbing the soft skin with his thumb, mindlessly, as if touching you had been the most natural thing in the world to him. His eyes were bright when he turned to you, amused by your tipsy grin, which had forced him to hold himself back from kissing it.

From time to time, you would hide your face in his neck, giggling at the ticklish effect he’d had on you or at the dirty jokes he would whisper in your ear when no one was looking. It was so easy to feel lighter when he was around, to have absolutely no worry in the world – that is what makes a great friendship, right?

And then, just when you thought the night had been a success in cheering JJ up and taking his mind off things, you saw him. With the corner of your eye, you noticed him entering the bar, his friends laughing with him, and you prayed that neither him or JJ was going to see each other. However, that was too late. You felt the blond man tensing up all of a sudden, his hand tightening on your thigh, and a fire in his eyes, that you mistakenly took for anger, began to arise.

“Jay,” you whispered as you forced him to focus on you rather than the man that had led him to his suspension, “Look at me. Just ignore him, please?”

When his eyes landed on yours, he could feel the anger dissipates, as another kind of fire had been ignited by the way you were pleading him with your gaze. He nodded once, giving all of his attention to the feeling of your hand on his bare bicep and the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips.

“What the hell is he doing here?”

You shrugged, not caring one bit about the guy. “Maybe they were in the neighborhood, I don’t know. Don’t give him attention, that’s what he wants —“

“I think that’s a bit late for that.”

“What?” You asked, confused at his words as you turned in order to look in the direction of the captain of the Redwood team. “Shit.” You mumbled once you realized that he was walking towards your table.

JJ hated this. He hated how much power a jerk like him had over him. He hated that he was coming over during a chill evening with his friends. He hated that he was already looking at you as if you had been his prey.

But most of all, JJ absolutely loathed that this man could get under his skin only by mentioning you. He had always been a passionate man, perhaps the fact that he had never had anything nor anyone to call his growing up played an important factor, however, it was so much different with you. His affection for you grew with each passing day, and so did his jealousy and possessiveness over you. None of those things should have, but he had no idea how to stop them.

“Well, what do we have here?” Were the first words Alec exclaimed when he approached you and your friends. “Are you all having a reunion with your ex captain?” The two men that were with him laughed at his words, and you were sure they were also on the Redwood team.

“Listen, man, we don’t want any trouble, so —“ Nick began, hoping that Alec would have gotten the message, but he was interrupted by him.

“C’mon,” he snickered, “we’re just having fun, right?” Then, his eyes landed on you, on the closeness between you and JJ, and you weren’t sure what was about to happen until he placed his hands on the wooden table in front of you and leaned towards you. “You still with him, doll face? You know you could do much better.” He winked at you, causing bile to rise up your throat.

“You should leave.” JJ all but growled as his hold on you got tighter, and you truly didn’t know what was going on between them. His hands closed into fists while the hard stare he was giving the man in front of you was the definition of ‘if looks could kill’.

He raised his hands in the air in defense, “I’m just playing, man.” He started backing up, signaling that he was finally putting some distance, “I’m leaving, alright? No hard feelings?” He didn’t give enough time to make up an answer before he turned around while the rest of the table went back into their previous conversation. Then, looking behind his shoulder, he added, “Bye, doll face.”

You felt JJ attempting to get up from his seat and you immediately stopped him by placing a hand on his thigh. He turned his head to you, an unfamiliar storm in his eyes had replaced his usual sweet stare and you wished to have had the ability to read minds in that moment.

“Why are you acting like a guard dog?” You whispered so that no one could’ve overheard your conversation.

Avoiding eye contact with you, he grumbled under his breath, “‘M not acting like anything.”

You searched for his gaze, almost wordlessly pleading for him to look at you. All that you wanted was to go back to normal and aiding him in his attempt at forgetting everything that happened at the last game. ��Right. So just good old healthy competition, huh?” You joked, hopefully lighting the mood.

He sighed and finally gave you the satisfaction of his gaze, now soft and attentive again. “I just hate that guy, alright? He’s a dick.”

You placed your hand on his exposed forearm, comforting him as you brought all his attention on you and only you. “Yes, he is. So don’t let him get under your skin, okay?” He nodded at your words, a hint of anger still lingering in his ocean eyes. Raising your head in order to be closer to his ear, you lowered your voice teasingly, “Although I have to admit…jealousy looks cute on you.”

Raising one eyebrow, he cockily murmured, “Is cute really the word you want to use to describe me? I would prefer sex god.”

The smirk that was playing on his lips was tempting you to kiss him right there and then, but thank God you still had some self control.

“Oh really? I’m not sure that fits the description.” You added with a tone of faux innocence as you had to bite down on your bottom lip to stop yourself from laughing in his face.

JJ’s eyes bore into yours; a glint of challenge swam in his ocean, and you were both excited and intrigued by it. He slowly licked his lips, his usual mischievous smile hidden by his hurt ego and lust.

“Time to say goodbye to our friends, baby girl.” He finally rasped before he bent his head to whisper in your ear, “I have a point to prove to you.”

And let’s just say that he proved his point that night — many times.

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oikharou · 1 year

Text

"PLEASE MARRY ME, Y/N-CHAN!"

with oikawa tooru

note: f!reader, she/her pronouns | you are younger than Oikawa by one year but in the same grade as him

genre: fluff, crack

WARNING/S: LONG FIC AHEAD!!

19 years ago...

You and your friend attended a kids' volleyball tryout that's currently being held in Miyagi prefecture. With great interest in volleyball, you two decided to try out as well. As expected, many kids were also going for the tryout as they were scattered on the court.

A whistle was heard all over the room as the coach entered the room. "Welcome kids! It looks like a lot of children here are going to be volleyball pros when they grow up?" He asked, and a lot of kids answered 'yes'.

"Wonderful! Now, let me introduce myself. My name is Takahashi Sanji and this is Yumemite Hotaru, and we are your coaches. But before we start, let us do an attendance."

As the two coaches do an attendance, you heard two boys talking loudly about a certain alien cartoon that has been very popular lately. "Iwa-chan! Did you watch the latest episode yesterday?! The boss fight was so cool!" A certain dark brown hair boy said to 'Iwa-chan' while having visible sparkles around his aura.

"Of course I did. You're going to annoy me if I didn't." A boy with dark, spiked-up hair replied. "So mean, Iwa-chan!" The former said.

"Well he's cheery and an alien enthusiast..." You muttered and your friend giggled at your remark.

"L/n Y/n!" The coach called out for your name. "Here!" You replied.

"Oikawa Tooru!"

"Here coach!" The 'cheery' boy you described replied. 'Oh, so his name is Oikawa Tooru...' You thought.

"Iwaizumi Hajime!"

"Here!" The dark, spiked-up hair that made a snarky reply earlier to Oikawa replied.

'No wonder his nickname is like that...'

After the attendance, you were paired with 5 different girls as your friend is on the sidelines, waiting for their turn. You stretched for a good 5 minutes before the coach whistles. Your eyes immediately diverted to the boy named, Oikawa, whom you caught staring at you. You raised an eyebrow and he looked away. You just shrugged and prepared to receive once the ball was served from the other side of the net.

As expected, the ball went in your direction and you perfectly received it. Your posture was commended by the coaches as they write down something on their clipboard. As the ball went to the setter of your team, she sets it to another player and they managed to land in a perfect spike but it was received by the other team.

They tossed it to the other side of the net so the libero of your team received it perfectly before letting the ball go outside of the boundaries. It went to the setter again, 'Nice receive...' you thought. This time, she called for your name to spike to the other side of the court. You jumped and position your arm back before hitting the ball gracefully with your hands. You thought the other team will receive it but you were wrong. The ball touched the arm of the opponent but since it was a strong spike, she couldn't receive it perfectly.

The referee whistled, signifying that your team got a point. The kids from the sidelines, including Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and your friend, let out a loud "Wow!" and began to applaud for your flawless spike. Your teammates cheered, letting out praises and claps. "That was amazing, Y/n! Can you do it again?" The temporary captain of your team asked and you nodded. "Yes, of course! Thank you!"

Unbeknownst to you, Oikawa let out a loud gasp as his eyes twinkled at the sight of you. "Did you see that, Iwa-chan?! She hit the ball so perfectly! She's amazing!" Oikawa yelled and Iwaizumi just smacked him in the head. "Dummy! Don't shout!" "That hurts Iwa-chan!"

After the game with your team won the 2 matches, you approached your friend and they squealed, congratulating your excellent performance in volleyball. "Congrats! You were amazing, Y/n!" You just chuckled. "Thank you, F/n."

You felt someone tap on your shoulder and it was none other than Oikawa and his friend, Iwaizumi. "Hello, Y/n-chan!" He greeted you happily.

"Oh hello, Oikawa-san right?" He nodded. "You were amazing and your spikes were incredible!" He complimented, making you stunned and a little blush appeared on your cheeks as you received the praise. "Thank you, Oikawa-san."

"Ah, there's no need to put '-san'. We're friends now! By the way, this is my best friend, Iwaizumi! I call him Iwa-chan for short though." You and your friend nodded. "This is my friend, Y/f/n."

After a while, Oikawa suddenly went silent and looked down, the three of you noticing his sudden change of behavior. "Oikawa?" Iwaizumi called.

He then looked up, grabbed your hand (gently), and had sparkles in his eyes as he stared at you. "Please marry me, Y/n-chan!"

You and Iwaizumi were shocked as your friend just laughed behind you. "E-Eh?" You stuttered. Iwaizumi then bonked him in the end, making Oikawa let go of your hand and hold the painful spot on his head. "Ow, Iwa-chan!!"

"Stupid! Why the heck are you asking that kind of question to Y/n?! You weirdo!" Oikawa just whimpered in pain and you merely chuckled. "Thank you, Oikawa, but I have to refuse." You said with a smile on your face.

Oikawa immediately got heartbroken and stood up on his feet. He clenched his fist in front of you and a determined look was planted on his face. "I'm very heartbroken right now, Y/n-chan! But we'll get married in the future! I just know it!" He said with confidence, and you were sure that he was weird.

Aaand another smack landed on his head. "Do you even know what marriage is?! Oikawa, you dumbass!" You just smiled at their interactions before leaving the conversation (swiftly) to go to your friend.

12 years ago...

Now in 3rd year of high school at Aoba Johsai High School, you were about to graduate along with Oikawa and his friends. When he first heard that you also enrolled in Seijoh, he was thrilled more than anyone. Oikawa's love for you never died even if you rejected his proposal 3 times in childhood, junior high, and the 1st year of high school in Seijoh, his feelings for you only grew stronger. He knows the fact that he's popular with the ladies but that never fazed him. His heart is for you and only you.

As the principal called your name for graduating with top 1 in your class, Oikawa made sure to clap very loudly (because he wants to and possibly for you to notice him) than the rest of the class. The principal also gave you a certificate of recognition for being an outstanding student in Seijoh.

As you went down from the stage and return from your seat, Oikawa was called for being the Student-Athlete of the Year as his performance in volleyball is greatly known in the school and the Miyagi Prefecture. You smiled as he went to the stage to receive his medal but you rolled your eyes jokingly when he threw a wink in your direction. He just chuckled and will deal with your sassiness later.

When the graduation ceremony ended, you were instantly greeted by Y/f/n, who captured you in a tight hug. "I'm so proud of you! Look at you graduating top 1 in the class!" Y/f/n graduated a month early than you as they were studying at Shiratorizawa Academy. Your parents also greeted you with a hug and congratulated you. "There's our girl! Congrats sweetheart!"

You beamed a smile at them. "Thank you so much, you guys! Honestly, the finals had me all nervous because I was so worried that I'll fail!"

Your friend and your parents just chuckled. "Well, it IS the finals after all. Who wouldn't be nervous?" Your father commented and you giggled.

You felt arms wrap around your small figure and you instantly recognized the fresh male perfume. "Tooru-kun?"

"Congrats, Y/n-chan! You deserve for being the top 1 in class!" You turned around and he pulled away. You smiled at jim, "Thank you, Tooru-kun. You also deserve the award for being Student-Athlete of the Year. I believe it's all thanks to your hard work as one of the most famous setters in Japan."

Oikawa felt himself blush at the compliment. "Ah, t-thank you..." He said and rubbed his nape.

"Oh? Is he your boyfriend, sweetheart?" Your mother asked and you reddened at the word. "M-Mom?!"

"Hmm, he looks handsome and kind. I approve of it." Your father nodded in acknowledgment as his arms were crossed in front of him. "Dad?!" You cried out and felt yourself hot as a chili.

Oikawa was blushing as well but cleared his throat. "I will be if she will say yes to my proposal."

Your mother's eyes widened and one of your father's eyebrows were raised. "Proposal?" Your father repeated. "Oh no." Your friend commented.

"A-Ah nothing! He's just joking, Dad!" You then turned around and smacked Oikawa on the head. "Must you bring that up to my parents?!"

"That hurts, Y/n-chan..." He said as he held his head. "But!" He then stood up straight. "I must have the confidence to ask for your parents' blessing in the future so I'm practicing now!"

"Oikawa Tooru, you dumb-"

You were about to smack him again when your mother realized that it was THE Oikawa Tooru standing in front of you. "O-Oikawa? Is that really you? My, have you grown!" Oikawa chuckled. "Well, I'm all grown now, Auntie."

"Ah, I knew your face is familiar! I've seen you on the sports channel every time volleyball season is on and I must say, your sets are really unpredictable. You sure do know how to keep the team's aura and atmosphere high." Your father showered him in praise and Oikawa went bashful. "Thank you, uncle."

"Well, we'll be waiting in the car. Don't take too long now, Y/n!" Your mother said and you nodded. As they leave you and Oikawa alone, he nudged your shoulder. "Guess I'm on their good side now huh? Maybe they'll finally approve of my proposal to you. So," He then revealed a bouquet of roses behind his back. "Please marry me, Y/n-chan!"

You gasped and pinched him on the arm. "Shut it, crappykawa." He pouted. "But," You started as you accepted the roses from his hands. "thank you. I'll take you on the offer of a date though."

Oikawa's eyes went wide. "R-Really? You're not joking?" You smiled at him and gave him a peck on the cheek, leaving him dumbfounded. "This week, Friday. 7 pm. Don't stand me up, dummy." You said and walked away with the roses in your hands.

Oikawa clenched his fist in the air before letting a loud, "Yes!!" And he skips happily back to his friends, who were watching the whole scene unfold and smacked him on the back. Though you rejected his proposal for the 4th time, at least you accepted his offer on taking you out for a date.

4 years ago...

Now at 25, you and Oikawa have been dating for 8 years straight. Even though he had moved to Argentina to continue pursuing his volleyball career and studies there, not once, did your love for him fade even the slightest bit. Of course, it can get lonely most of the time due to the different time zones of the two countries but he made sure that he'll video call you two to three times per week.

He'd tell you all different stories about his life in Argentina but mostly about volleyball and how he is improving more than his high school self. He never fails to greet you exactly at midnight in the Japan time zone whenever it's your birthday or your anniversary. Of course, you do the same to him too.

Today is your 8th anniversary as a couple, but you knew that you would be celebrating it via video call again. You know the reason, but you've secretly been checking out some flights to fly over to Argentina just to surprise your boyfriend. You know that he's been busy for the past few days due to volleyball but he never used that as an excuse to not spend time with you.

"Happy 8th anniversary, mi amor." He greeted you with a smile at exactly midnight in the Japan time zone. You smiled back at him but not with your usual smile, "Happy 8th anniversary as well, amor."

He noticed your mood very quickly and offered you a sad smile. "I'm sorry if we're celebrating our anniversary via video call again baby. Ah, I don't know how many times I've apologized to you since I first moved to Argentina. You're probably sick of hearing it so many times."

You just chuckled. "It's okay love. I just hope that you're in my arms right now." He smiled at your wish, unbeknownst to you that he prepared a surprise for you.

Then you realized something, "Huh? How come it's dark there in Argentina? Isn't it like, noon there? Plus, why is it so quiet?" You bombarded him with questions and he just chuckled at you. You then heard a knock at your door. "Oh, someone just knocked on the door." You mumbled before standing on your two feet to walk towards the door. "I'm actually hiding from a certain person right now. Oh sh- I hear their footsteps. Shh, quiet baby." He hushed you and you had to stop laughing before giving him a nod. Suddenly, the call dropped, and you thought that the wifi where Oikawa is right now was bad so you let it be.

As you checked through the peephole, you noticed a large square present outside. You slowly opened the door and looked from left to right if there was anybody suspicious. You then walked to the box and it says, 'To: Mi amor, Y/n. From: Your beloved boyfriend <3'

You smiled at Oikawa's thoughtfulness but you were deeply confused as to why he needed to buy you so many things inside that big present box. You know that you can't carry the big damn box all by yourself so you decided to open it right then and there. As you removed the ribbons and opened the cover of the box, you were engulfed in a tight hug. You were about to scream when you caught a whiff of the strangely familiar perfume and you were shocked to see that it was no other than, Oikawa Tooru.

"Surprise baaaby!!!" He yelled and you were speechless as heck. "Did you like my surprise?! I bet you do because I'm the surprise!!"

Oikawa noticed you were so quiet and immediately felt a bit sad so he pulled away from the hug. "Are you okay, mi amor?"

You surprised him by engulfing him in a tight hug as well. You buried your head in his chest as a few tears fell from your eyes. "I miss you, I miss you so damn much." You whispered and he smiled at you before returning your hug. "I miss you more, Y/n. You have no idea that I thought of going home to Japan so many times just to see you and my family again." You looked up to see him staring at you with that genuine smile of his, and he took the opportunity to give you a sweet long kiss on the lips. Oh, how both of you missed kissing each other like this. The last time that you did, was when he left for Argentina, which was 8 years ago. The countless overthinking, small arguments on the phone, and the feeling of longing were too much to bare for the both of you, however, you two reassured each other that they are still the home that you want. The person that you want to spend time with for the rest of your lives.

As you both pulled away, he placed his forehead to yours and started at your eyes. "I love you." He whispered. "I love you too." You replied and moments later, you can feel him fidgeting a little. You pulled away with confusion planted on your face as you looked at him up and down. "Love? Are you alright?" You asked.

He sighed loudly. "Y/n, the feeling of being away from you hurts my heart so much and it tortures me every day when I was there. I know that I followed my dreams to become one of the best players in Argentina, but it still felt lonely without my number one cheerleader there beside me, to watch my games, to watch me play, and overall to see you cheering for me as I win many tournaments. I know you feel the same way so I'll ask you this,"

He then kneeled on one knee and revealed a red velvet box to you, which made you gasp as you recognized the luxurious brand. He opened the lid and there revealed an expensive-carat ring, that made you utterly speechless because it was the newest release ring. You looked at him and he was smiling at you as he tries his best not to shed tears. "Will you make me the happiest and luckiest man in the whole world and, please marry me, Y/n-chan?" He put an adorable look on his face and you chuckled at the nickname he used to call you in childhood and high school with your hands on your mouth as fresh tears of joy stream down your face. "Yes, of course, Tooru-kun." He giggled at the nickname and stand up on his feet before wearing the ring for you on your ring finger. The ring wasn't too large or too small for your finger, it was the perfect fit. It's as if Oikawa knows your ring size, well, he should though because he's your future husband and your boyfriend of 8 years.

The two of you hugged each other tightly as he kept whispering 'thank you' to you. Cheers erupted from the sides and you pulled away to see that it was Oikawa's high school friends, Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa cheering. They rushed towards the two of you and gave you a group hug before pulling away. When they did, they ruffled Oikawa's hair and smacked his back. "Congrats man! We know that she'll say yes!" Said Matsukawa.

"Yeah! We can tell that you two missed each other so much that you kissed for like what? 15 seconds? Surprised both of you didn't insert tongue." Hanamaki said, earning a punch from Oikawa while the both of you had a blush on your face. "Shut it!"

"Kinda surprised that Y/n didn't reject your proposal this time. She's been rejecting your proposal since childhood." Iwaizumi teased, erupting laughter from the two while Oikawa was offended. "Oh, my go- shut up, Iwa-chan! She accepted my proposal now so move on!" Oikawa whined.

You snickered. "Yeah, as if he had any rings to show me before." The three burst in laughter at your response, while Oikawa just whined even more. "Mi amor, even you?!"

What you didn't know is that Oikawa did have rings for you, paper rings. But he felt like he should just show it to you on your wedding day so he'll just have to wait.

After a few hours of celebrating, you were waiting for your fiancé as you kept staring in awe at your ring. When he came out of the bathroom, looking fresh and ready to go to bed, he saw you admiring the ring. He smiled and came to the bed before kissing you on your temple. "Do you love it?"

You hummed in response. "Yes love but..."

"But?" He repeated. "How much did it cost you?" Oikawa didn't say anything. "I know this is the newest released ring from the luxurious brand but I'm still curious."

He just giggled in response, which put together you raise your eyebrow at him. "Tooru?"

"You don't have to worry about the price baabyyy~" He singsongs as he cuddled you. "Oikawa Tooru! I swea-" "Shh baby."

Oikawa knows that he's rich and has a lot of money but he also knows that you don't like it when he spends more than millions for you buuuuut you're his future wife after all.

Present time...

Now at 29, you and Oikawa have been married for 4 years and currently have 2 twin children who are 3 years old. The two looked exactly like their father, inheriting his hair and hair color, skin, and smile while they inherited your eyes and nose. When they were 2, Oikawa remembers you saying that "I did not go through 9 months of torture just for them to come out looking like the replica version of their father" (jokingly).

Oikawa is waiting for you to come out of the room because you and your him have a date tonight. Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa will be babysitting your children for the night while the two of you enjoy your alone time together so as Oikawa's most trusted friends, they volunteered to do it.

When you slowly come out of the room wearing the dress that he bought for you, Oikawa fell in love all over again. It's just like back in childhood when he saw you spike for the first time. He fell in love the moment you first played volleyball, and now he continuously fell in love all over again when you showed him your vulnerable side, when you smiled at him for the first time, when you two went on a date for the first time, when you finally accepted his proposal when you two kissed at the wedding altar as husband and wife and many more. Now, he feels like his childhood self again.

"What do you think?" You asked him, feeling a little shy under his starstruck gaze. "You look so beautiful, amor..." He whispered but loud enough for you to hear before extending a hand. A blush crept to your cheeks and you shyly but gladly took his hand.

A loud gasp was heard and you looked to the side to see that it was your twin boys, staring at you with their mouths agape. "Mom! You look so pretty!!" They said in unison and rushed towards you. You kneeled and gladly accepted their hugs. "Thank you my loves! You two look very cute with your blue pajamas as well!"

A knock was heard from the front door and you stood up on your own feet. "Well, that's your uncles. Let's greet them, shall we?" You said and they excitedly nodded before rushing ahead the two of you.

You noticed that your husband was very quiet so you diverted your attention to him and he was still staring at you in awe. "Penny for your thoughts, Mr. Oikawa?" You teased him and he snapped out of his trance. "It's nothing, Mrs. Oikawa." He said and grabbed your hands before putting it on his shoulders. "But I must say, you're very ravishing and charming tonight. I might not hold back from kissing you right now." He whispered and pucked his lips before lowering his head to kiss you, but you abruptly stopped him by putting a finger on his lips. He pouted, making you giggle. "Maybe later."

"Haahh," He placed his head on your shoulder. "Please marry me, Y/n-chan." He said and you laughed. "We're already married, dumbass."

"Oh.." Was all he said. "Then let's get married again."

You shook your head and lifted his head from your shoulder before placing a peck on his lips. "You're so cute, Mr. Oikawa Tooru."

"And you're such a tease but I still love you, Mrs. Oikawa Y/n."

#haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! x y/n #oikawa #oikawa tooru #haikyuu!! x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #oikawa fluff #oikawa tooru fluff #oikawa x reader #oikawa x you #oikawa x y/n #haikyuu fic #karou's hq!! works

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bordysbae · 1 year

Note

7. "don't feel special that i’m here, my mom made me come." "mhm, sure." and 18. "I miss you" with Quinn? Something like the reader and Quinn used to be friends in love but there was miscommunication???

“the things left in ontario”

quinn hughes x reader

🦋 BORDYSBAE’S 500 CELLY

— ୨୧ —

quinns nhl debut is tonight, and you’re being dragged along by your mother. you’re not gonna deny a trip to vancouver, so might as well go. her and ellen have been best friends for forever, so you grew up alongside the hughes family. although you’ve lived in canada for all of your life, the hughes family was still a major part of your life even while they were living in the united states. but when they moved to canada, you were estatic.

you and quinn are the same age, so you two bonded more than anyone. unfortunately, when quinn left for michigan, your heart went with him. not only is he your best friend, he’s also more than that. he’s your first love, but he just doesn’t know it. you two have always been a little more than friends, and everyone just assumed you two are bound to get married.

that was until college rolled around.

when quinn was in michigan, he basically just stopped speaking to you. sure, when he came to visit in canada for the holidays you two spoke and acted as if nothing had changed, but you both knew things were weird now. part of your heart shattered seeing quinn so far away with little contact. unfortunately when you stopped texting first, that lead to no texting at all. you’ve collectively decided to avoid quinn the best you can, and it’s been working. that’s until your mom and ellen decided to drag you to his debut.

you’re sat in the stands with a blue jersey loosely hanging off your body, and the crowd is screaming loudly as the boy appears on the ice. his lap begins, and ellen is cheering louder than anyone in the building. a small smile forms on your lips as quinn skates around the ice, but you quickly purse them.

“you’ve gotta admit y/n, you’re proud of him,” your mom nudges you.

“i mean yeah, we’ve talked about this day for years, but i just wish things weren’t the way they are,” you shrug while watching the boy shoot loose pucks into the net, as his debut lap comes to an end.

eventually the game finishes, and you’re all excited to see quinn. he comes out with a big grin on his face, but it drops when he see’s you. after hugging everyone else, he pulls you into a very very loose hug.

“y/n, hey,” he awkwardly smiles

“hi quinn, congrats,” you half smile before immediately walking away.

—

at dinner, you and quinn are accidentally placed across from each other at the table. at this point everyone knows about your falling out with quinn, but no one knows just exactly what happened. not even you two. you avoid eye contact with quinn all night, but on the way out of the resturant he stops you. “y/n, thank you so much for coming. it means a lot,”

“yeah don’t feel special my mom made me come,” you half jokingly say. you’re both uncomfortable and upset, so the last thing you want is to talk to the boy who unknowingly broke your heart. but you don’t want to be overly forward with your feelings, so sarcasm is what’s best in this situation.

“mhm sure. i saw you smiling and clapping during my lap,” he chuckles nervously.

“yeah yeah whatever quinn. nice finally talking to you for once,” you forcefully smile and turn around. suddenly his hand on your shoulder stops you.

“what? what’s that supposed to mean?”

“are you serious quinn? you don’t even realize that you just straight up stopped talking to me? we haven’t talked in months quinn! you give me a few of your hoodies before you leave for michigan then just ditch me? we almost kissed that summer, quinn!” you quietly yell at the boy, trying not to draw the attention of everyone else in the parking lot.

“i just, i don’t- fuck y/n. there’s no excuse for what i did, but i really just thought you didn’t feel the same. you were so flirty with that guy the summer before i left, so i thought it was best to leave things in ontario,” he sighs while rubbing a hand through his hair.

“i’ve been waiting and waiting for things to go back to how they were, but nothing ever did. you’re in vancouver doing god knows what with god knows who, while i’m here mourning a friendship that you clearly don’t care about! hell quinn, we’ve always been more than friends and you know that!”

“oh will you just shut up,” he groans before kissing your lips. you’re taken back by his forwardness but kiss him back as soon as you realize what’s going on.

“i’m sorry i left us behind when i moved, but i promise it meant so much more than you know. i miss you, y/n/n.”

“i miss you too quinny.”

#bordysbae’s 500 celly #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes angst #hockey blurb #hockey imagine #umich hockey #michigan hockey #vancover canucks

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burnthoneydrops · 10 months

Text

Like I Always Do (s.o. x fem!reader)

pairing: sam obisanya x fem!reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: language (it's ted lasso), use of 'my girl'

a/n: ahh! first time writing for my favourite boy!! i hope y'all like this and don't mind the fact that i clearly know nothing about football, i'm trying my best!!

“Come on Sam!” You call from your place in the owner’s box, Keeley gripping your hand that wasn’t acting as a megaphone. There’s a few minutes left on the clock and both teams have yet to score a goal. The boys are weaving through each other on the pitch, trying desperately to dodge between the opposing players. It’s just started raining and you mutter a curse to the universe under your breath for England’s reliably shitty weather.

“Oh for God’s sake, we just need one goal!” Rebecca sighs from beside Keeley, readjusting the Richmond beanie that held down her hair. Zoreaux throws the ball from his spot on one end, and Sam’s quick to claim it, bouncing it off his knee before kicking it over to Danny. You’d be lying if you said you knew much about football, but from what you do know, this setup looks pretty damn good.

“Let’s go Richmond!” Higgins calls from behind you, and you can’t help but smile as this is the most high energy and carefree you’d ever seen this man.

“Babes, you’re gonna squeeze my hand off,” Keeley comments to you as you had turned your focus back to the game, quickly becoming very concerned with the state of it.

“Oh sorry,” you apologise, loosening your grip with the intention of letting go entirely, but Keeley weaves her fingers through yours, keeping your hand exactly where it is.

In quite an elegant move from Danny, he twists his body and kicks his leg over the other, shooting the ball straight to the goal. While you could hear the Richmond fans all collectively take a quick breath, it seems too good to be true. Your fears are unfortunately proven accurate as the opposing goalkeeper sweeps the ball away from the netted end, pushing it back onto the pitch with his gloved hands. The crowd splits into a round of sighs and cheers as they either celebrate or mourn the moment for their team.

“Fucking shit,” Rebecca curses, fidgeting with the bracelet adorning her left wrist. Isaac makes a call, shouting a combination of words that only makes sense to them and they get in a new formation. Jamie runs to basically lean against the opposing team’s players, no doubt muttering something to get in their heads as the boys get ready behind him. They’re soon off again and you’re eyeing Sam the entire time. He’d been so in his head before this that you knew he was stressing like crazy right now. The game is tense and you know he’s trying his hardest, but that self doubt does unfortunate wonders on someone’s self esteem.

“You’ve got it Sam!” You cheer again, and this time he hears you, looking up at the owner’s box, giving you a warm but small smile and a thumbs up.

“You’re not biassed at all, are you?” Keeley teases as she looks between you and Sam.

“And what if I am? You’re the same way for Mister ‘he’s here, he’s there, he’s every-fucking-where’ Roy Kent,” You shrug with a squeeze to her hand.

“Never said it was a bad thing babe,” Keeley replies, shaking her head.

The crowd starts cheering in unison as the ball gets passed back and forth across the pitch. It gets passed to Sam and the goal is somehow left wide open. This seems almost too miraculous, but you try not to doubt and instead focus on the magic that might be about to happen. Sam claims the ball once again and keeps running forward with it, dribbling it past the opposing players. The stadium waits with bated breath and the tension in the crowd could be cut with a knife. With the looming clock ticking down its last seconds, Sam kicks the ball straight toward the goal, swiftly pushing it past the goalkeeper, making the score 1-1. The timer buzzes loudly, signifying the end of the game, and Richmond has done it. They end with the tie they needed and the fans go wild.

“With a clean goal from Obisanya, the game ends with a tie!” The announcer repeats into his microphone, as the team runs to hug each other. You and Keeley stand up, exploding with joy as you hug each other tightly, Rebecca turning to hug Higgins from behind her. The fans start to storm the pitch, and everyone is quick to exit the owner’s box, wanting to join in on all the fun. Rain be damned, nothing is going to stop you from celebrating. You search the sea of people for your boyfriend, who pushes Jamie off his back when he sees you.

“Go get your girl mate,” Jamie smiles, patting Sam lovingly on the back before turning to Isaac and celebrating with him.

“Y/N!” Sam calls, waving his arms to get your attention. Your smile grows as you spot him, running at full speed, though trying not to slip on the damp grass. His arms open as he meets you halfway, catching you as you hurdle into him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. He picks you up lightly, both of you laughing, and spins you around before putting you back down.

“That was fucking amazing!” You praise. “Oh my God, the tension in the crowd was insane but you absolutely fucking killed it!” You tighten your grip on your boyfriend, unable to keep the smile off your face.

“Hearing you cheer really helped,” he comments as you pull back slightly to look at him.

“Yeah, might have been a bit aggressive up there. Almost took Keeley’s hand off with how hard I was squeezing”.

Sam laughs, lightly grabbing the sides of your face and pulling you in for a kiss. The cheers of the fans still on the pitch fade away to background noise as you immediately kiss back, putting all the remaining adrenaline into it. You’re so proud of him and you want him to know it every chance you get. When you two pull away, Sam grabs your hand, twirling you around before settling you back to face him.

“What was that for?” You ask, a confused look in your eyes.

“Just wanted to get a good look at you in my number”. It had become custom for you to wear a shirt with Sam’s famous ‘24’ on the back and he loves it every time.

“My one and only,” you reply, “now come on, this rain is starting to soak through my shoes”. You pull the two of you closer to the exit, but you don’t get too far before Sam’s picking you up and carrying you bridal style across the rest of the pitch. “Sam! Put me down!” You slap his arm lightly before gripping his neck, not wanting to fall.

“Do not worry, I’ve got you. Like I always do”.

#sam obisanya #ted lasso #sam obisanya x reader #ted lasso fan fiction #jamie tartt #afc richmond #roy kent #sam obisanya imagines #sam obisanya fan fiction

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musings-of-a-rose · 3 months

Text

Falling Slowly - Chapter 8

Pairing: Tommy Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 5700+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: I think this may be the penultimate chapter. I haven't decided if the last parts will make it into one longer chapter or 2. I also plan on doing some one shots later on. I think. Maybe. I just love these 2 so much!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

**Divider made by @benkeibear

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Falling Slowly Masterlist

Tommy Miller Masterlist

I run. I run like I’ve never run before, throwing myself over the front steps and stumbling a little before colliding with him, Tommy, who pulls me so tight to his chest I might burst, my own arms scrambling to wrap around him. His hand comes up to cup the back of my head, his face buried in my hair as I nuzzle into his chest, soaking his shirt with my tears. He pulls back just a bit, cupping my face in both hands as his eyes take me in, tears pouring from his down his freckled cheeks.

“Are you really here?” I whisper, my fingers tracing his jawline as my other hand grips his shirt, pulling him closer.

He smiles, giving me that chuckle I missed so fucking much and warmth spreads through me. “I am. And you’re here. You’re here.”

He pulls me to him and our lips meet, a sensation I had begun to think I’d never feel again. My fingers twist in his soft curls, a little longer than when I’d seen him last, his fingers tightening on my jaw, like he was afraid to let go.

But then a small voice calls my name and I break the kiss just as Jax hops out of the car, running straight for us, his little arms outstretched. I drop to the ground, my arms out wide and pull him in, his fingers clutching the back of my shirt as he openly cries loudly.

“Mommy! Where were you?”

I choke back a sob, tears flowing harder. “I know. I’m sorry, baby. But daddy got you, right?”

He nods against me. “And Uncle Joel, and Sarah, and Rose. But mommy…You scared me. I miss you so much.”

The sob pours from my mouth and Tommy drops to the ground with us, pulling us both to his chest as his own tears fall onto his little family, finally together again.

“You were shot??” I look at Sarah, my mouth hanging open as she shrugs like it was nothing.

“Yeah. It hurt like a bi-” she looks up at Joel who glares at her. “-I mean, it hurt a lot. But Rose was there. She saved my life.”

I look over at Rose, Joel pulling her into his side and kissing the top of her head. “Holy shit, Rose! Well, I don’t…I don’t even know how to thank you.”

She waves her hand, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. “Oh don’t worry. It was my pleasure. Plus, I think Joel has found plenty of ways to thank me.” He bumps her with his hip and mumbles something about there being kids in the room.

“Well, thank you anyway. Have you all gotten enough to eat?” I look around and everyone nods, Sarah taking another sip of water.

“Alright. Well, let me tell you about the cabin.” I tell them what I’ve done while I’ve waited, all about the greenhouse and cellar, the fishing nets that I made following a book Joel had brought here about homesteading. I did manage to snare a few rabbits that were in the freezer. I also ran through a little checklist regarding the solar panels and the best time to take a shower with the most hot water. They all perked up when I said that.

“You have hot water?” Sarah asked.

I nod, smiling. “Yeah. Fresh towels are already in the bathrooms and clean sheets are on the beds. The only clothes are the ones you’d left here last time, though.”

Sarah stands up, halfway to the staircase before she yells over her shoulder. “I don’t even care. I’d walk around naked if it meant I could have a hot shower!”

“Sarah Miller!” Joel yells and Sarah giggles, carefully walking up the stairs, the bathroom door closing a few moments later.

Joel and Rose disappear into their room, their shower turning on a few moments later and we give Jax a bath in ours, letting him play in the bubbles for a while so he can feel at least a little normal. Once he’s done, we dry him off and dress him in his pajamas, stretching his little arms and yawning big.

“Oh wait! I almost forgot! Look who wanted to come along!” I reach into my backpack and pull out-

“Rabby!” Jax yells and tugs him from my hands, hugging him as tight as he could.

“Bless you for that,” Tommy smiles. “He’s been asking for him several times a day.”

“Well we couldn’t go to the cabin without Rabby!”

Jax looks up at me. “Mommy? Can I still sleep by Sarah?”

“Oh. You want to? You know you can sleep by us, right?”

Jax nods. “Yeah. But I want to make sure Sarah ok. She is better but still hurt sometimes. I like to help her.”

I kneel to his level, pulling him in for a hug. “You’re such a good caretaker, Jax. If that’s what you want, that’s fine. But-” I hold up my finger as he looks at me “-only if you promise we can cuddle for a long time tomorrow.”

He smiles and I swear he looks just like his dad. “Ok! I promise!” He throws his arms around me. “I love you, mommy.”

I hold him a little longer than normal, kissing the top of his head. “I love you too, bud.”

He gives Tommy a quick hug before throwing himself off the bed and running out of the door, only pausing a moment before sticking his head back in. “You tuck me in, mom?”

Once Jax is tucked in, and Sarah is comfortable, I head back into the bedroom, closing the door behind me. The shower is on and I see Tommy’s clothes in the laundry basket, his pant leg hanging off the side. Smiling, I tuck it into the basket and shed my own clothes, adding them to his pile before quietly opening the bathroom door. The room is a little steamy and I can just make out his dark hair behind the glass shower door panel. Quietly, I pop open the door, getting a clear view of his whole backside, my eyes lingering on his strong shoulders and round ass before I lean forward and pinch it, a yelp from him echoing across the bathroom as he spins on me.

“Not fair!”

“How did I sneak up on you, Mr. Desert Storm?”

He pulls me in as I close the door behind me, pressing my body against his. He pushes my hair back from my face as the water soaks us, cradling my face.

“Did you? Or did I let you sneak up on me just to feel your hand on my ass?”

I look fake shocked, slapping him on the shoulder. “Mr. Miller! Do you take me for some cheap date?”

He smiles, leaning in to kiss me, our lips barely touching. “Definitely not. You were expensive.”

He presses my back into the wall, capturing my lips with his before I can reply, one hand cradling my face and the other sliding down the side of my body to rest on my hip. His nose brushes mine when he changes angles, sucking my bottom lip in to take a nip. I can feel him hardening, but then the water starts to cool and I suddenly remember where we are.

“Tommy,” I breathe out, his lips trailing down my neck.

“Mmm?”

“We have to turn off the water. With all the showers, we can’t use that much hot water. The generator won’t last.”

He lets out a huff, kissing me briefly before turning off the water. He opens the shower door and steps out, turning to offer his hand to me. I take it, carefully stepping out on the bathmat, my skin pimpling as the cooler air hits it. Tommy reaches for our towels, holding mine out to me, but I don’t take it. Instead, I take his, moving close to him to dry him off. I start with his face, his beautiful face sprinkled with those freckles I love so damn much, his dark eyes on me. I run the towel over his hair a couple of times, opting to let it air dry as his curls always look so bouncy when he does that.

And then I move down, drying off his broad shoulders, down his arms, moving to his sides, pressing kisses to his chest after I’ve dried it off. I stare up at him innocently as I gently press the towel between his legs, using my other hand to secure his erection while I dry him off, his lips parting to puff out air onto my face. Holding his gaze, I drop to my knees, drying off his legs. My tongue darts out and I give him a lick, a small “Fuck,” grunted out from above. But then he’s pulling me up, pressing his lips to mine. I drop the towel, my arms wrapping around his neck, fingers winding into his wet curls. He breaks the kiss with a quiet moan, holding up the towel still clutched in his hand.

He says nothing, drying my face, planting a kiss on my nose. I giggle and steal a quick kiss, loving the smile I get in return. He moves on to my hair, wringing out the excess water before moving down to my chest. He gently grazes the soft towel over my nipples, my breathing picks up, feeling him slide his hand under the towel to squeeze my other nipple. Then he starts to move down my stomach, reaching the towel between my legs. He grips my chin with his other hand, making me look up at him as he moves the towel slowly over my cunt, sliding his finger down me, the towel pressed between us. It feels so good but I just want to feel him, his skin. But then he presses a finger to my clit and I gasp, his grip on my chin tightening slightly to hold my gaze. His nose brushes mine as he swirls around me, gliding his nose across my skin. He pulls back enough to look at me, his pupils blown wide with lust.

He drops the towel, gripping my thighs and lifts me, my legs coming up to wrap around him as he pushes open the bathroom door. He kisses me, lips and tongue pressing into mine as he walks me over to the bed, gently laying me down as he hovers over me, settling himself between my legs. He lifts his head slightly, his eyes scanning my face, a soft look in them as he takes me in. He gently brushes some hair from my face before he slowly pushes inside of me, my mouth opening in a silent moan. He’s always stretched me, pushed me to my limits but tonight it’s different. I never thought I’d see him again, feel him again, have him split me open and pull me back together, the love surging between us.

But he’s here, sliding into place and reaching spots only he ever has. His eyes are still on my face, a smile gently tugging at the corners of his mouth as he slowly pulls out and back in, watching me writhe and moan under him. His lips softly press to mine before starting a path down my jaw, gliding over to my neck, and sucking on that spot that leaves me breathless, gasping his name as he rolls his hips into me, an extra hard and slow thrust when he’s already buried deep. My nails dig into the skin on his back, trying to ground myself here, tell him I want to stay here forever, the warmth between my thighs quickly heating. His lips still on my neck, his hand finds mine, lacing our fingers together as he presses my hand into the bed, slightly above and to the side of my head. His other hand slides down my body, tracing a circular pattern in my skin before grabbing my leg, hooking it over his hip as he adds another deep thrust. My body tenses, standing on the edge as he pulls out, his head lifting from my neck to watch my face, pushing in and thrusting hard and deep. I break, unable to stop the stream of whines coming from me, his name a whisper on my lips, a chant, a prayer as he works me through it, my body like a live wire. My breathing levels out, I feel my lips curling into a smile when my eyes find his, his brow pulled together in concentration, like he was waiting for me. I cup his face and meet his gaze, his hips picking up slightly in speed as he thrusts into me a few more times, his mouth opening, head pushing back as he whines, little whimpers as he spills inside of me, his neck straining with the force of his release. Fuck he’s so beautiful when he comes, a sight I will never tire of.

He drops his forehead to mine, both of us breathing together for several minutes. I trace patterns on his back, scratching lightly, loving the feel of him on and in me. But eventually, Tommy sits up, pulling out of me with a hiss and a groan before cleaning us both up. He comes back to bed, completely naked, and slides in next to me, pulling me to his chest, but not before kissing me, his nose sliding against mine.

“I love you so much, Tommy.”

“Not as much as I love you, darlin’.”

I wake to sound of little feet running up and down the hallway, Sarah’s voice trailing after him as she follows him downstairs. I hear noise from the kitchen and I know they’re grabbing some cereal, Jax thinking he’s being sneaky about it.

I turn my head, my eyes landing on my husband’s sleeping face and for several long moments, I just watch him. The way the dim light from the lamp hits his face, the freckles sprinkles across his cheeks and nose, the soft rise and fall of his chest as he sleeps. His lips are slightly parted, small breaths puffing out from between them and I just…how is he this gorgeous? This handsome? How did I get this lucky? Not just in meeting him and being his friend and eventually starting our family but for him and our son to have survived whatever the fuck was happening? Everything goes to shit but I get to keep my little family.

I reach out to push back a stray curl from his face, sighing as I watch him a little longer. Leaning forward, I press light kisses to his face and his nose, Tommy starting to stir from the attention. He blinks awake, looking around worried for a moment before his eyes land on mine, his dark ones momentarily robbing me of my breath. He reaches out and cups my face, rubbing his thumb along my cheek.

“You’re real?” His voice is laced with sleep, but his eyebrows pull together like he’s worried I’ll fade away. I put my hand over his and squeeze, smiling back at him.

“I’m real. Are you?”

He pulls me to him, our lips gently meeting as he holds me, his tongue slipping easily into my eager mouth, moaning when I wrap my leg around his waist.

“Mrs. Miller, I do believe you’re naked,” he smiles into my lips.

“You know, I think you’re right.”

He rolls me onto my back and I giggle as he nips at my neck. “You should really put clothes on, darlin’. Someone might take advantage.”

“Maybe that’s exactly what I’m hoping for.”

“Mommy! Daddy is showing me fishing!” Jax clings to his tiny fishing pole that we had bought him the last time we were here, stashing it as a surprise for Joel’s weekend birthday trip that didn’t turn out the way we planned.

“Will you catch us some dinner?” I ask him, kneeling to his level to straighten his jacket.

He nods furiously. “I will, mommy!”

Tommy walks in the kitchen behind Jax, another pole clutched in his hand, Sarah following close behind carrying a tackle box.

“If Joel wants to join us, we’ll be down at the lake catching dinner.”

“You didn’t let him know you were going?”

He drops his voice so only we could hear, Sarah moving to show Jax the tackle box. “Not with the sounds I could hear coming from their room.”

“Gotcha. Well if you bring home dinner, maybe we could give them some competition.”

His eyes darken and he shifts the things he’s holding to pull me in close. “That’s a deal.” He kisses me and Jax giggles, holding up a fake wiggling worm.

A couple hours goes by before Rose comes down to the kitchen to get some water from the fridge. She looks at me and shifts herself, trying to hide the marks on her neck. I smirk and offer her a high five, which she takes. “Get it, girl.”

She goes back upstairs and I finish putting together the picnic basket, heading out back to walk the small path through the trees down to the lake. I can hear Jax’s laughter before I see them, ringing through the trees. At the end of the path I stop, watching them sit at the edge of the water, the dock not having been fully completed yet. Tommy is holding up a real wiggling worm and Jax is absolutely fascinated by the fact that Sarah wants nothing to do with the real worm, laughing whenever she jumps when the worm gets too close.

“It’s just a worm, Sarah!” Jax manages to get out between giggles.

“It’s too wriggly!” She squeals as Tommy turns towards her, Jax erupting into another fit of giggles. But when they turn to the water, I see Sarah reach into the bucket and take out a real worm of her own, quickly hooking it on the end of her pole and moving to her place to cast. I really love this kid.

Tommy kneels next to Jax, holding his little arms and telling him what to do, how to pull the pole back and when to release, the little Mickey Mouse pole looking so small in his hands. Which puts a whole other series of images in my head of exactly how large those hands are. I let them be for another minute before walking up to them.

“Lunch time!”

That winter brought us some snow, of which Jax was thrilled. Fortunately, we had stashed some winter coats and gear here the first time we’d come and they still fit. Mostly. Jax would definitely need a new one.

When spring finally came, Jax started begging both Tommy and Joel to finish the deck so they could go out fishing. Sarah joined in the begging simply because she wanted to jump off the deck and do backflips into the lake. Whatever they said worked because one day, about a week later, Tommy and Joel came downstairs dressed in jeans and loose fitting shirts. Joel moved around the kitchen island to the fridge, talking shop to Tommy who stopped behind the barstool I was sitting on, placing one hand on either side of me on the counter, leaning forward to press a kiss to the top of my head, his chest pressed against my back.

“Shit, I forgot something,” Joel grumbles as he stomps off towards the garage, the sounds of clanking quieting when the door closes behind him.

Tommy’s hand leaves the counter, wrapping around me and holding me to him, while his other hand snakes down the front of my shirt, grabbing one of my boobs.

“Sir. There are children in the house.” He pinches my nipple in response and I gasp.

“They’re already outside,” he speaks low in my ear, his nose nudging my hair aside as he kisses at my neck.

“Get a room,” Joel grunts out as he comes back in, noticing Tommy’s hand down my shirt.

“Sounds good to me. Let’s go, Daisy.”

“Not until you’re done with the deck, asshole,” Joel chuckles, grabbing the box of tools and heading towards the door.

Tommy groans as he removes his hand from my shirt. “Guess that’s my cue. I’d much rather hammer your deck,” His eyes are twinkling and I would beg him to take me here if it wasn’t for the kids running around just past the windows.

“You build that deck and we can do whatever you want.”

“You’re a menace, Mrs. Miller.” He kisses me and then heads outside, meeting up with Joel as Jax and Sarah chase after them.

A short bit later, Rose comes downstairs wearing one of Joel’s shirts, a slight limp to her walk. She gets a glass of water and stands across from me at the kitchen island, taking several gulps before putting the glass down and wiping her lips.

“Good night?” I smirk.

She flushes but nods. “You could say that.”

“You wanna go oggle our men while they build shit?”

“Hell yes.”

So Rose and I make a little cooler with drinks for everyone and some snacks for the kids and head outside, Rose grabbing a few folding chairs and an umbrella on the way. We get to the water and set everything up, chairs opened, cooler between us, and drinks in hand as we sit on the chairs, watching Tommy and Joel converse and gesture between some of the poles submerged in the water. On the first run of spring, they managed to score some wading gear so they had on these ridiculous looking pants with boots, but at least it was keeping them dry.

Rose and I, however, were definitely not dry.

Tommy and Joel stopped for a moment to wipe their brows and then decided to shed their shirts, tossing them towards Jax who eagerly tried to catch them and put them on the ground. My eyes roamed my husband’s body, his olive skin glistening with sweat and water, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. Then he reaches for a tool of some kind, which I couldn’t care less about, but fuck do his muscles move under it, bending and twisting with his movement and I push my legs together quickly, catching Tommy smirking when he caught a glimpse of me watching him.

“Do…do you think it could be uh, movie night? For the kids? Tonight?” Rose speaks to me but her eyes are glued to Joel.

“Movie night?” Mine are still on Tommy, who is now trying to torture me by stretching his arms above his head.

“Y-yeah. Might be a good…”

“A good…what?”

“Huh?”

“Movie night?”

“Oh right. Um a good…distraction. For the kids.”

“Oh, that sounds good. Let’s make it kids only so it’s special for them.”

“How ever will we pass the time?”

2 years later…

“And this one is yarrow. Good for fevers. The harvest is actually looking pretty good this year.” Rose fusses over several groups of small flowers, some white and some yellow, mumbling to herself as she does.

“Are they ready to pick?” Sarah asks curiously.

“I believe so. Here, let me show you both how.”

Shortly after they arrived, Rose asked me if she could have some space in the greenhouse to grow some herbs and plants for holistic medicine, to which I enthusiastically agreed. She spent the better part of the year foraging what she could, or showing Joel and Tommy what they looked like in that book of herbalism she had left in the cabin so they could keep an eye out for it when they go on runs. They never go far or often, but every once in a while we need something that we can’t produce ourselves. And now Rose has taken to showing Sarah and I exactly how to grow, harvest, and dry the plants, as well as what they’re used for and how to use them. When I had asked her why a surgeon cared about holistic medicine, she shrugged and said “It works.”

Sarah followed her around asking a ton of questions and I gave them their space. I listened, taking mental notes and actual ones, but honestly, I love how close Sarah and Rose had gotten. Almost like a mother and daughter. Which makes sense, now that Joel and Rose had gotten married. Or as close as married we can get.

2 years later…

“Where are you taking me?” I stumble again and Tommy grabs me, helping me step over a root I had tripped over.

“Not much further.”

“Jax will wonder where we’ve gone.”

“He’s 7 now. He’ll be fine. Besides, he was in on it.”

“You teamed up?”

“Yup.”

“Traitors.”

Tommy chuckles. “We’ll see.”

We walk for what feels like miles, but really is probably only about a half mile from the main cabin. Tommy stops walking and grabs my shoulders, walking around to stand behind me.

“Ready?”

I nod and he unties the blindfold. I blink rapidly a few times, adjusting to the light but when I finally can focus, I see a campsite. A little 2 bedroom tent has been set up, a small campfire that’s already going with a hanging little cauldron above it that has the most amazing smell coming from it, 2 camping chairs with a cooler between them, and a blanket spread on the ground. There’s a small slope down the hill and we can see the water from the campsite and, assuming I have my position correct, we will be able to have a gorgeous view of the sunset.

“Tommy, this is…I don’t know what to say!”

He wraps his arms around me from behind, pulling me into his chest, kissing the side of my head. “So you like it?”

“Like it? This is gorgeous Tommy! I - how long have you been planning this?”

He chuckles next to my ear, sending goosebumps down that side of my body. “A while. I found a calendar and did a little math and figured out our wedding anniversary is sometime around now. And we never really got to celebrate it since…well, since.”

Since the outbreak.

I turn in his arms, slipping my fingers through a couple of his belt loops and hold him to me, my eyes meeting his. “I love you, Tommy. So much. This is…this is amazing.”

“I love you too, darlin’.”

He leans down to kiss me, sliding his tongue into my willing mouth almost immediately. We make out for a moment before I place my hands on his chest, pushing him back slightly.

“I have to ask - what’s in the cauldron?”

He smiles and I swear it gets lighter. “My famous vegetable soup!”

My eyes open wide. “No way. Really? You found everything?”

He nods. “Yeah. I’ve been lookin’ for some stuff when we go on runs. We have most everything else here. I know how much you love it so I thought I’d save that surprise for this special occasion.”

“How long until it’s ready?”

“Hhm..let me check.” He lets go of me and stands by the cauldron, grabbing the mitt to move it off the fire so he can look inside, mixing it a little with a big spoon. “Looks ready now. You hungry?”

“Fuck yeah.”

The soup was delicious, even with a couple of missing ingredients, the perfect thing to warm us up. It’s not super cold but it will be once the sun starts to set. Tommy had even baked some bread without me knowing and damn this man can bake too. Once we’re finished, he walks the dishes down to the lake and rinses them in the water since we won’t need them anymore and tucks them in a bag. When he’s done, he walks up to me and extends his hand to me.

“Come watch the sunset with me?”

“I’d love to.” I take his hand and he pulls me up, walking me over to the blanket he had spread out with a clear view of the setting sun. He sits, kicking off his boots as he does, and beckons me to him as he reaches for a thick blanket. I kick off my boots and sit next to him, tucking myself into his side as he covers us with the blanket and wraps his arm around my shoulder. For a bit, we just sit and watch the sun set, the wind lightly blowing through the trees, the animals doing their nighttime routine. It’s peaceful. One can almost forget about…everything. As the sun sinks behind the line of trees, Tommy turns to me, hooking his finger under my chin to turn my head up to him.

“I love you, Daisy.”

“I love you, Tommy.”

He kisses me, soft at first but as his tongue slips in, his need grows, adding to the fire that’s rising in my belly. He lays me back, slotting himself above me and settles between my open legs. His lips kiss a path down my neck and find that spot behind my ear that makes me whine his name. I feel him grinding against me as I try to wrap my legs around him, but he grabs my thigh, preventing me from doing it. He slides down my body, eyes looking up at me until he reaches my pants. He pops open the button on my jeans with practiced ease, quickly hooking his fingers into my belt loops and pulling down, bringing my panties with them. I lift my hips to help, thankful I’d already kicked my boots off as Tommy shimmies my pants down and off, exposing me to the cool air as he sets them down on the blanket. He looks up at me, a smirk sliding into place.

“You can be as loud as you want to, darlin’.”

And before I can say anything, he pushes my legs apart, holding them with his broad shoulders, dipping his head between my legs, nibbling at my inner thigh while lightly tracing around where I want him desperately to be. He teases me for several moments, chuckling when my please grow louder before finally giving in, sliding his tongue around me, in me, sucking, nipping, licking, and moaning into me as I come, his name tumbling from my lips as my thighs try to close but remain in place by his broad shoulders. My fingers twist in his curls and I hold him to me, Tommy dragging out my orgasm by pulling another almost immediately. My fingers relax in his hair and he lifts his head, wiping his mouth on his sleeve, his grin wide and bright.

“Feel good, darlin’?”

I nod, finally catching my breath. “I’ll feel even better when you’re inside me.”

“Yes ma’am.”

He helps me take off my top, shedding his own clothes as well before grabbing my wrists, pinning them above me as he pushes in, a soft “fuck” coming from him as he settles, my body forming to his. His hips are slow and methodic, pushing deep inside of me, pulling a leg over his hip to get even closer, deeper, pushing at the back of me as I writhe under him, moaning and gasping when he hits a spot just right. His hips snap, hitting that same spot hard and faster and my body tenses, my release pushing from every part of me as I come, screaming his name for the world to hear, begging him for more when I come down, more closeness, more him. And he obliges, pulling out and flipping me over, his fingers digging into my hips as I push them back, my release making it easy for him to push in quickly, setting a rapid pace that hits me at new angles. He grunts and whimpers, his hips slamming into me before pulling me up to his chest, my hands gripping his forearm wrapped around me as we both come, breathing heavy and smiling when we come down.

We don’t bother getting dressed as we head in the tent, setting our clothes off to the side as we crawl into a double sleeping bag that Tommy had picked up on one of their runs. He wraps himself around me and I push into him, cuddling for a while before we make good use of that sleeping bag.

1 year later…

“Perfect kick, Jax!” Sarah yells to him as she stops the soccer ball with her foot, Jax fist pumping the air with excitement.

“I’ve been practicing!”

“And it shows! Let’s go again.”

Sarah had been showing Jax how to play soccer, officially, as she says, for the better part of a year. As best as she can without an entire team, but Jax takes it seriously, wanting to impress his cousin with his maneuvers.

Rose and I are sitting on the back patio, taking a short break from gardening to watch the kids. I take another sip of the delicious lemonade Rose had made with the lemons we had grown in the greenhouse. It’s not as sweet as I’d like it to be, but it’s a delicious treat. I’m laughing at a story she’s telling me when the sliding door rips open and Joel’s voice booms out.

“Everyone inside. Now.”

There’s an edge to it, one I don’t like. This isn’t a drill and the kids sense it too, immediately stopping and running into the house, Joel closing and locking the door behind us, the shutters already closing.

“Joel?” Rose questions but he shakes his head.

“Get into your spots.”

“Which spots?”

Tommy walks up, handing Joel 2 guns from the back room, handing another to me, his eyes large and worried.

“The ones for raiders.”

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saturnville · 1 year

Text

nightmare

45. “I had a nightmare about you and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

author’s note: this was a part two that i never realized could be a part two until someone inboxed me and asked for a continuation of “the soldier’s lady.” this sat in my drafts for two years. so thank you to the supporter whose message encouraged me to finish it 🫶🏾 @queen-dk

Alone he was. Alone, frozen, starved, and afraid. Lost between the beautiful, green mazes. Surrounded by thick stumps covered in damp moss, assaulted by crawlers at every direction, destroyed by his enemies.

Voice too coarse, too far gone to utter even a prayer to the Master he served. His hand, covered in blood and gashes filled with dirt and debris, clasped around his throat. His dry lips parted and nothing more than a small gasp dribbled out.

He cleared his throat. A sandpaper-like substance shimmied along the sides of his throat. He spat it out on a pile of crushed leaves and opened his mouth once more, managing to call out. He was greeted with silence.

Painfully, he scrambled to his feet. A string of obscenities passed his lips. His hands patted his waist in search for his sword. He only felt the tattered fabric of his kilt. Through blurred vision, he searched around, circling himself for his sacred weapon.

Loudly, he cried out again. He was answered with the rustling of the leaves and the clapping of a dangerous thunder. His chest heaved as he looked around, stumbling in every which direction.

Alone, he was. Alone, frozen, starved, and afraid.

She awoke suddenly with a gasp. Thin lavender slip damp with sweat, soft skin heated from distress, she sat up slowly. Her eyes darted around the dark room, save for a beam of moonlight against her bed frame.

With a shaking hand, she brushed the stump of her hand across her forehead, sweeping away the perspiration that rested there.

Her non-dominant hand forced the warm covers off her body. Slowly, she swung her slender legs across the edge of the bed. They dangled, her heels jabbing the wooden frame.

A soft breath flew passed her dry lips. Her hands were a net for her head as she buried her face within her palms. Her cardiac muscle beat harder than wooden sticks against the tenor drums she saw a young boy playing weeks ago.

He was back home, yet subconsciously, she still worried for his well-being, for his safety. For almost two weeks, he’d been walking through the halls of the estate, healthy and strong in stature. Her worry was no longer necessary, but it never seemed to subside.

Theo nibbled along the inside of her cheek. Should she do it, she thought to herself. The young woman reached across her pillow and snatched her robe that warmed it, sliding it over her arms.

Her bare feet smoothed the cold floors as she padded around her bed and out of her bedroom. She started straight down the hallway and made a sharp left turn. In front of his bedroom door she stood. Hesitantly, she knocked softly.

A warm light peaked from the bottom of the door and gentle movements could be heard from the other side. She twiddled her fingers around a loose thread on the stomach of her slip.

After a few moments, the door opened. Theo smiled awkwardly, feeling small under his naturally intense gaze. She had trouble lifting her head to meet his.

“Why’re ye up, lass?” His voice was like water on a hot day—clear and crisp. Aila rolled her shoulders then shrugged.

“Had a nightmare about you,” she said quietly, her eyes nowhere near his. “Wanted to make sure you were okay...”

The man cracked a smile. His teeth peeked from behind his pink lips. Such a pretty sight, she thought to herself. He said nothing, only opened the door wider and nodded for her to enter.

She was hesitant. It was the first time she’d been in his room in the wee hours of the night. Theo stood in the middle of his bedroom, eyeing the knickknacks and other articles around. His desk was in the corner and it was littered with papers, some of them smeared with dark ink she assumed he knocked over.

His clothes were folded messily and tossed on a chest to her right. She shook her head. His messiness would never go away, it seemed.

Ahead of her, the flames of the fireplace danced and leapt swiftly.

“Tell me about this nightmare,” he asked of her. He palmed the door and closed it gently. Theo tore her eyes away from the fire and wrapped her arms around herself. Jamie moved to sit on his bed, hands rubbing his covered thighs.

“You were alone,” she started, eyes locked on the dancing flames in front of her. “had spent days alone in an area you did not know. Cold, starved, and afraid. No one could get to you.”

Jamie cocked his head to the side.

“I had nightmares like that all the time when you were gone.” Her voice was so small that he could hardly hear her. “I was scared you’d die out there alone. Hell, I thought you were dead the whole time you were gone.”

“Theo...” he inched towards her. His large hand cupped hers gently. “Ye should know ye canna get rid of me that easily.”

“You say that like you’re made of metal,” Jamie chuckled with a shake of her head. While any other time she would’ve scolded him for joking in a serious matter, she couldn’t help but feel the weight lift from her shoulders. He didn’t think she sounded ridiculous.

“Might as well be...come here, lass.”

With no sense of urgency, Theo’s legs carried her slowly to his bed. The weight was back. His soft demand made her nervous.

Jamie sensed her uneasiness and smiled. “Why’re ye nervous?”

“I...I don’t know,” she mumbled. Again, he ushered her over and she joined him on the bed. It was comfortable, she thought, as the bed dipped just slightly. Jamie laid against the pillow, while Aila sat upright, her legs crossed and her hands in her lap.

“You’re kind of intimidating,” Theo said after some moments. She turned her head and saw an amused grin on his beautiful lips.

“Is that so?”

Theo nodded. She scooted closer to him, finding it easier to relax. She shimmied onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Jamie turned his head to look at her. “Yeah. Maybe it’s your eyes. They’re pretty but intense. Or the scowl you always wear. You’re gonna mess around and lock your features into place.”

A hearty laugh fell from his lips which pulled a giggle from hers. “You truly believe me that?” Theo nodded . “Indeed, I do.”

“I thought about ye all the time,” Jamie said after some time. The portraits on the wall seemed to be less important as her attention was pulled from them. She met his eyes, “what?”

“I’m convinced,” he started. “that if I hadn’t thought of ye the way I did, I wouldn’t have survived. Ye were the one thing I held onto, Theo. I ken I had to come back to ye.”

“You’re just saying that,” she blew off bashfully. She moved to turn her head to face the ceiling but his hand grazing her skin halted the movement.

“No,” he said lowly. “Ye were the only thing I had to hold onto. And...ye mean a lot to me, lass.”

Theo found herself smiling. It was awkward and her lips quivered as they curled upwards, but nevertheless, she smiled a smile he found beautiful.

Jamie’s eyes fell from his eyes to her lips, tempting to pull her head close to his face and just taste them. He wondered if she tasted like the tea she drank twice a day—once in the morning and once a night.

“Can I...”

“...please,” she breathed.

He wasted no time in bringing his mouth to hers. She released a mewl of satisfaction. Her hands found his hair, and she gripped his frizzed curls tightly. He groaned softly into her mouth and she swallowed his sounds like a delicious meal.

His hands shook as they took place on her thighs. His fingers dug into the flesh and she whimpered softly. Theo’s fingers raked through his hair and massaged his scalp. Achaius felt his insides twist like a freshly wrung towel.

He'd never thought the day would come where he'd confess his feelings for her, let alone have her rocking on his lap like a ship on water and assaulting his neck. He enjoyed it more than words could explain.

"Jamie," she whimpered when it became too heated. She wanted him, but she couldn't put herself in such a position at the given moment. If they continued on, she was convinced things would've escalated in a manner she was unaware if she was ready for. “Can we just—“

Jamie sensed her growing anxiousness and tore his lips off of hers, and placed his hands on her middle back. His ocean eyes bore into hers and she was convinced if she stared long enough, they’d turn into a whirlpool and suck her in. Jamie brought her hand to kiss lips and kissed it gently. “Rest. And when you wake up, I’ll still be here. I promise.”

Theo nodded and rolled over to her side. She didn’t make it too far, as Jamie’s arm bracketed her to his side. She giggled softly, but accepted his closeness nonetheless.

“Good night, Theo.”

“Good night, Jamie.”

#saturnville #original writing #original content #original characters #original story #black!reader #jamie fraser x reader #jamie fraser fluff #jamie fraser x black reader #jamie fraser x female reader #jamie fraser x black!reader #the soldier’s lady pt 2 #old fic turned new #historical drama #inspired by outlander #outlander #outlander x female reader #outlander x reader

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beabnormal24 · 2 months

Text

My hand slipped, here's a Gax wip

I couldn't help myself so I posted the wip anyway, enjoyyy

(I don't know when I'll finish this fic, but I'm having a lot of fun writing it):

“Okay, so Max and George against me and Oscar. What do we say?” Lando pops his elbow on the net’s pole, chewing loudly on his gum as he bounces the racket on his knees.

Oscar stands behind him with his arms crossed on his chest, a cap messily pulled over his hair, staring at Lando’s back like a good scholar waiting for instructions.

George shares a quick glance with Max: the only answer he gets being a careless shrug.

“I mean-“ he says, scratching the back of his head. “Wouldn’t it be a bit, I don’t know, unbalanced? No offence to any of you, of course.” He quickly adds, but not quick enough for Max to suppress his snort.

George is not looking at him, but he doesn’t need to turn around to know he’s rolling his eyes.

But maybe he’s smiling with the wrinkles next to them, in the way he does when he’s a bit endeared by him. Maybe, he can’t know.

“Georgie, my dear. Let’s put it like this” Lando says, shaking his head. “Out of all of us, I’m the best.”

Max coughs behind him. “Bullshit.”

George has to press a fist against his mouth to cover his laugh.

“You are all crap. Max and Oscar are real real crap, while you, George, are just slightly crap. Between Max and Oscar, Osc is the crappiest.”

“Hey!” Oscar protests, glaring at the back of Lando’s head as he seems to finally wake up from his open-eyed slumber. There’s a frown between his eyebrows, George knows that he’s more than aware of how bad he is, but the competitive side of him just can’t let Lando expose him so bluntly.

They’ve all been through that.

Lando shushes him with a shake of his hand, blowing a raspberry with his mouth. “So, it’s all a matter of statistics-“

“That’s not what statistics is about, Lando.”

“Which means that it’s me and Osc against you and Max, alright?”

There’s nothing more to say that would change his mind, so George just shares an amused look with Max and wishes that for once his height might be of help.

They lose, terribly, George must admit that his pride is mostly wounded by the fact that Lando actually is the best out of all of them, so much so that Oscar doesn’t even need to raise his racket that many times and still they get horribly plastered to the ground and miss almost every single hit.

Max doesn’t seem as happy about the result either, if the way he’s gasping for air and grabbing at his bent knees is anything to go by. For a professional driver, he’s probably got the worst resistance out of all of then, given how he had already started to pant after half of the first set.

George lets himself stare at his profile for a second, the sweat dripping from his hairline to the tip of his nose, red from exertion, freckles bright under the deep flush, the cap on his head sliding slightly up as he brings a bottle to his lips.

He casts away his eyes just as Max turns around, feeling his own face heat up at the possibility of being caught, busying his own hands with one of the bottles scattered behind the white line.

“Next time.” Max exhales, swiping his mouth with the back of his hand. A droplet falls on his upper lip, George forces himself to stare at Oscar slumping tiredly against one of the walls of the club. “Next time we’re going to call Fernando and beg him to come back playing with us. He’s a lot more fun than those two idiots, I swear if I hear Lando moan Oscar’s name like a whore one more time-“

George glares at him, hoping with all his might that anyone milling around them is distant enough not to hear him. “Yeah, sure, let’s call Fernando. And how exactly would you do that?”

Max raises an inquisitive eyebrow, mouth twisting in that way he does when he thinks an interviewer is asking the dumbest question ever.

Unfortunately, George has been on the receiving end of it enough times to recognise it immediately.

“You’re still his dearest baby, aren’t you?” Max asks, cheekily winking at him, tipping the neck of his bottle towards him to point at his chest with a finger. “If there’s anyone who can bring that old bastard back, it’s you. And maybe Lance and Carlos, but mostly you.”

“Shut up.” George grumbles, hoping that Lando is not eavesdropping on them, or else he would’ve to deal with all the teasing he had desperately hoped to leave behind once Fernando had finally decided that enough was enough.

One single year of being teammates, one single year of having to deal with Fernando’s complete lack of a filter and notion of personal space, and he’ll have to bear the consequences for the rest of his life.

He does miss the old man, though, but they’ll probably catch up at the New Years’ party and George will have to endure at least a two hour long pleasant monologue about how retired life hurts Fernando to the core.

“Alright lads.” Lando shouts on the other side of the court, stretching his arms above his head just like the showoff that he is. Oscar, at least, has the decency to appear completely unfazed. “It’s dinner time, I choose the place and the pizza is on the losers.”

“Wait a second, we never agreed on that!” Max says frowning.

“Yeah, no, he’s always like this. Just makes things up, it’s his talent.” Oscar deadpans. “But I have to agree with Lando on this one, it’s a good idea.”

“Ah, no I won’t accept this. You don’t count, you didn’t even lose.” Max protests, narrowing his eyes in his direction. Oscar just shrugs innocently.

“See? It’s three against you, Max. Losers pay.” Lando concludes, twisting the damp towel around his neck just to smack it against Oscar’s shoulder.

Oscar smacks his own against his head in return, leading to a quick banter that inevitably brings the eyes of other people at the court towards them, as if being a bunch of drivers in a public space wasn’t already enough.

“But I never agreed to anything.” George mumbles.

“Either way, it’s always your fault, Russell.” Max teases, squeezing his forearm for a second as he shoulders past him.

George swats it away weakly, his skin almost feeling like burning where there’s still the faintest feeling of a pressure. When he looks down at it, he swears he can see something glowing under the fabric of his thermal T-shirt, like a flicker, or even a spark, as if his skin is trying to light up on fire all of a sudden.

“George.” He snaps his head up at the sound of his name, heartbeat growing faster in his chest, pounding, pounding, pounding- “Did you hit your head? Come on let’s go before he gets even more strange ideas.”

George has to admit that Lando knows his stuff when it comes to eating. Perhaps being as picky as he is helps in that matter, but George still appreciates the choice of a small spot, private, a bit more distant from the other tables.

They are not worried about being stopped, anyway, there’s not many tourists wondering about in Monaco when so close to Christmas, and definitely not on a weekday.

Oscar is a pretty good conversationalist, George already knew that, so he spends most of the dinner talking with him about his plans for the Holidays and his sister dealing with her first semester in Chemical Engineering while Lando and Max chat about a game or something Martin’s related, probably.

But the strange feeling on his chest remains constant, like a gentle blow against his skin, right under the sweater he had brought as a change.

From nothing more than a distant sensation, it starts to properly itch halfway through the meal, when Max moves his chair closer to the table and their knees knock against each other, and George almost jumps out of his skin at the sudden touch.

Max looks at him weirdly, his raised eyebrows trying to ask questions that George does not have the answer to, so he just shots him his politest smile and goes back to his glass of water.

Too often than he would like, the itch becomes so unbearable that he has to scratch it, shoving a hand under his sweater and rubbing his fingernails until he’s sure his skin must be all raw and red and pretends like it’s nothing.

Oscar, at least, doesn’t seem to pay it any attention, or if he notices anything weird, he’s kind enough to not point it out.

To avoid talking about racing it’s pretty easy, nobody wants to be reminded of their respective places in the Championship, with Max missing second place to Carlos for a bunch of points, George grazing the top three but not reaching it, and both Lando and Oscar still left behind.

They had all hoped for something better, with all the new regulations, with all the new possibilities. At the very least, they’re all happy for the end to Charles’ long suffering.

George does not pay at all, in the end, because as soon as he makes a gesture of taking his wallet out, Max is rolling his eyes and huffing and shoving his arm behind his back saying something about being the one who earns the most out of the four of them, anyway.

At that point, George’s chest might as well have caught on fire with how much his skin starts to burn.

He’ll blame it on stress, he thinks, because it has been a stressful bunch of months, from first to fourth in a span of a year does something to your head and George hasn’t exactly been in the best position to actually deal with whatever was going on inside of himself without people assuming that he was bending to the challenges of his new teammate.

Lando and Oscar say goodbye with half hugs and promises of catching each other during the rest of the break that George knows are just a polite way of saying that if they happen to be in the same place at the same time, then they should try and meet up.

But it will probably be impossible with Lando flying from one part of the world to another doing things that they are all pretty sure he shouldn’t be allowed to do at all.

They leave together, arguing like kids about some stupid thing with knocking shoulders and twinning heads ducked down, hip to hip, arm to arm, always doing the same thing but not quite, and George has to properly spread a hand over his chest when he’s left alone with Max and his skin starts to feel like thousands of pins prickling at it, sharp and annoying and oh so unbearable.

It’s just stress, it’s alright, he just needs to go back home and run himself a good bath with those salt things that Charles got him for Secret Santa last month, and then, tomorrow, he’ll just have to catch up with Aleix and find the number of his therapist and book an appointment or two. He’ll detox at his parents’ house and then at the New Years’ party and then he’ll be all focused for the next season.

Just like every other time.

“Russell.”

A hand wraps around his bicep, small but strong. It feels heavy on him, perhaps he lost too much weight. His heart thumps uncontrollably against his ribcage, and George knows that if he were to take a look at his chest right now, he would probably catch another spark.

But maybe it’s all in his imagination, he’s just stressed.

Max looks at him from the tip of his big nose, his eyes smiling with the corners of his lips as he pats George’s shoulder, almost affectionately. And it looks good on him, George has just changed his mind, the third place almost makes him seem more human, more reachable, even if George had already reached him last year (but it never felt as right as it does now).

He likes that.

Max squeezes one last time, knocking their arms against each other. It’s not a hug like Lando, but it’s something close to it and it makes George feel acknowledged in that weird kind of way you that only Max’s things make him feel.

“Just don’t be a stranger, yeah?” It doesn’t sound as empty as George would’ve expected.

Max disappears in Monaco’s breeze with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket and his head turned to the side to look at the coast following him, or it’s him who follows the coast. It’s not that simple to guess when George feels the way he does about him.

He stares at the broad expanse of his back until he’s nothing more than a distant figure just like any other person around and he can pretend that he’s no one in the middle of the world.

The blessing of anonymity, he muses, gripping at the hems of his sleeves.

All of a sudden, his chest feels quiet.

#gax #max verstappen/george russell #max verstappen #george russell #lando norris #oscar piastri #ao3 fanfic

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wooahaes · 2 years

Text

thoughts louder than words

pairing: non-idol!mingyu x gn!reader

prompt: soulmate au series. 7/13

word count: ~2.0k

warnings: some slight negative feelings and experiences with gyu trying to find his soulmate.

daisy’s notes: sorry for another short one!! i feel bad not posting this sooner since it’s been a month since i even started this one :(

summary: Mingyu has the words “God, he’s so loud…” written across his bicep, and frankly, he isn’t surprised. Despite all the teasing it nets him from his friends, it’s a sure sign that his soulmate is out there. And admittedly… it does lead him to stay loud if it means he’s always one step closer to finding you.

Mingyu considered his soulmate mark... pretty damn average. Words in some form were pretty common, whether it be a name or a date or a first sentence or a first thought--although those two tend to be a lot more muddled. When he turned ten, he watched as words inked themselves onto his bicep: “God, he’s so loud...”

Truly, not the thing he’d want to hear at age ten.

He cried to his parents, immediately taking it as a sign that his soulmate was going to hate him because he was a pretty loud person at times. Even though he quickly grew out of that mindset (Mingyu now rationalized it as him being a scared ten year old whose giddiness at learning his mark was immediately doused out by a judgmental statement), there was a small thought in the back of his mind about how annoying it must be to other people. He was capable of being quiet, but if you were out there and you were going to either say or think something about it... he might as well go suns-out guns-out so you’ll see his bicep while staying one of the loudest people in the room. It net him a lot of teasing from his friends, both for the words and for the fact he’d use any excuse he could to flex to show them off. Mingyu was a confident man.

Until sometimes that confidence resulted in him ditching sleeves when he absolutely shouldn’t, and then he had to put up with being chastised by friends and family alike for being foolish while he was sick as a dog. If he covered up entirely... then what if you found him and he didn’t know? He’d looked it up a few times to find out whether there was any distinction on whether they’d be your first words to him, or your first thought about him.

Some people said theirs were thoughts and when they saw their soulmate, they knew. The words would feel like their marks were burning, as if the universe was giving them a blazing red sign that hey, idiot, your soulmate is right there. Like everything fell into place, the final piece of the puzzle snug into their life. Mingyu thought the idea was romantic.

“Can you imagine it?” He said to Wonwoo one day while making dinner. “Just... seeing someone and knowing you’ll fall in love with them.”

“Love doesn’t work like that,” Wonwoo looked up from his laptop. “Love takes time.”

Mingyu shrugged. “Not for everyone. I think... when I see them, I’ll know.”

“You shouldn’t have high expectations,” Wonwoo said. “It’s unfair to them. What if they have high expectations for you? Without even knowing you?”

Wonwoo... had a point. “I still think I’ll know,” Mingyu reached up, fingers ghosting over where your first thought was still neatly inked into his skin. He heard stories of people who covered them up with tattoos. Other people let them breathe to tell their story loud and proud. He had to wonder what you would do.

Mingyu wondered what kind of person you were. Were you as rude as your first thoughts could be? Or was it just a casual observation, drafted out mentally by someone tired and taking refuge in their thoughts?

... What would your mark say? Mingyu had a lot of thoughts. He saw people and noticed their dogs, or he’d notice the jacket they wore, or he’d think that someone’s eyes were pretty. Sometimes he, too, could get annoyed by someone loudly speaking on their cellphone or listening without headphones on public transportation. He was thankful none of those thoughts lead to his soulmate.

He hoped that, whatever you have on you, it made you think of him as someone kind. That was all he could truly ask for until he found you.

Mingyu thought he found you for a moment.

It’s hard for people to approach him when they see his mark. Even though not many people like admitting that their first thought was about how loud he is, they’d do it before shyly showing their mark. He’d seen someone who had “Oh, cute...” written along their wrist (his first thought had been about a button on their bag that looked familiar), another with “How fucking rude.” along his collarbone (that time he’d noticed how pretty his eyes were).

And, truthfully... It’s incredibly frustrating. Sometimes he’d see someone who’s words matched up with his own thought, and he’d ask them what their first thought about him was. Sometimes it was his height, sometimes it was how handsome he was, but... It was never about how loud he could be. Mingyu was used to that disappointment, if he was honest. Maybe that was why he already felt a sense of love toward his soulmate: he was handsome and he knew that, sure, but that wasn’t the first thing they noticed about him.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Seungcheol had told him one day over lunch, after Mingyu had confided his feelings in someone he felt could set him straight. “They aren’t a superficial person. You already know you’re handsome.”

Seokmin had said the same, days later. “I just hope they aren’t someone rude,” he had added on. “Maybe someone having a hard day.”

Wonwoo hadn’t looked at him when he asked him about his soulmate, about how it felt to meet them for the first time. “I don’t love them yet,” he had said. “But... I think you know when you see them. So you were right. You’ll know.”

Mingyu just hoped they were all right.

When Wonwoo found his soulmate, Mingyu was more than happy to grill for details. He’d heard Seungkwan tell his story a thousand times over, but Wonwoo? Who had already made a date with them to get coffee and talk? Mingyu wanted to know everything that his friend felt comfortable sharing. As much as he liked hearing Seungkwan’s story and how things were going with his soulmate, Wonwoo was more... toned-down. Mellow and easy-going compared to how completely sappy Seungkwan could be.

When Minghao found his, Mingyu had teased a little about the numerous museum visits they went on. But he could see the tender smiles that Minghao hid whenever they messaged him, and the pure joy he held in being able to create art or put together his outfits without needing external help. With Jihoon, Mingyu could see how fond he already was. He liked his soulmate’s spark, even if he nearly fried his hair finding it. Joshua’s soulmate was someone he took things slow with.

And Vernon’s? Well...

“You didn’t notice?” Mingyu had held back a laugh. “Lost items is so common. If you had just told us, we would have set you straight.”

“C’mon, dude,” Vernon said, “they’re always at my place and sometimes they leave shit behind. How was I supposed to figure it out?”

“You could have mentioned things were appearing when they weren’t even there,” Seungcheol said, frowning. “You could have realized it a lot sooner.”

Vernon rolled his eyes. “I know. I just... I dunno, I guess I got used to the idea of not having one. Not all of us get obvious signs, y’know?”

Seungcheol went to get another dumpling from the plate. “Someone should check in Seokmin and Soonyoung then,” he glanced up, “they might have a not obvious sign--”

Mingyu reached out and pulled the small bowl of sauce away from where Seungcheol was about to dunk it. “Other bowl,” he gently warned, the colors close enough that he knew Seungcheol could mix them up if he wasn’t paying attention. He turned his attention back to Vernon, “My sister’s sign was lost items and she thought the same thing.”

Wonwoo was already typing something into his phone--subtle soulmate signs. He’d probably send the list to Soonyoung and Seokmin again, just so they knew. Maybe he’d send it to Chan, too. Despite the kid insisting he had a soulmate, that he knew his sign but hadn’t met them yet, he refused to tell anyone what it was. If it was words or shared markings, the others could at least keep an eye out for his soulmate. Chan wanted to meet them, after all, just... on his own terms, apparently.

Maybe Mingyu could understand it. But still... If he wanted to meet them, why wait?

“We already went through the list,” Vernon said. “Like. Obviously we can’t do shit like a time loop until we’re in it, but I think most people without soulmates who want one like... try to figure it out. If I had realized that their shit kept appearing when they weren’t around to lose it, maybe I would have figured it out sooner.” He frowned. “I found them. That’s all that matters.”

“It is,” Seungcheol cut in before Mingyu could tease any further. “We’re happy for you.”

Mingyu was, genuinely. It warmed his heart a lot to see his friends find their soulmates. Some of them were admittedly softer than others (Seungkwan, for once, who gushed about his partner whenever he felt like he could), but Mingyu was pretty positive some of them were falling for their soulmates more and more with each day.

Their server had approached, visibly panicked, with someone else in tow that looked far too tired for their own good. Mingyu frowned a little for a moment, just noticing the forced smile they put on the moment the others straightened up.

“My coworker will be taking over for me for the rest of the evening,” he said, gently laying a hand on your shoulder, and rattled off some line about a family emergency until you firmly removed his hand.

“She needs you,” you said in a low voice, “go help your sister, alright? I’ve got this.”

He grew flustered, giving you a curt nod and a thank you for adding some of his tables on top of your own work, immediately speeding off to likely leave his apron in the back before heading out. You had turned back, properly introducing yourself before you started to clear away tables.

And then Mingyu felt it. Both looking at you felt right in a way he couldn’t describe, and the words on his bicep were burning hot. The tiny way you hid pain with a forced smile despite the urge to wince. Then he saw them, inked in bold lettering up your arm: Are they okay? I hope they’re not overworked...

“Wait--” Mingyu had said, and you met his gaze. “You feel it too... Right?”

You said nothing, just staring at him. He pulled up his sleeve, and he watched the way you read out the words before immediately dropping the empty plate back onto the table with a gasp.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry--” You grew flustered. “You were laughing when Seungmin asked me to take over his table, and I looked over and--I’m so fucking sorry--Ah, shit--”

He laughed, quieter this time. How cute. “It’s okay,” he said. “My friends all know I’m loud.”

The others looked sheepish, completely unsure of how to handle this. It felt like it should be a private affair, surely, and yet this was how the universe let Mingyu meet you.

“No, it’s not fine,” you insisted. “Your first thoughts were concern and mine were judgmental--You deserved better than that--”

“Then make it up to me,” he said, eyes twinkling. “When do you get off? I’ll wait for you.”

You picked up the plate you’d dropped, stepping back. “You’ll be waiting a while.”

“I can wait a little longer for you,” he said. “Can’t you?”

When you smiled at him, he felt his heart skip a beat. Oh, he liked your smile. “Then I guess I’ll see you at ten.”

general taglist: @wonuziex @twancingyunhao

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #mingyu x reader #mingyu x you #mingyu x y/n #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x you

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