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roosterforme · 26 days

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 4 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: As you and Bradley start to blur the line between professional and personal correspondence, you feel yourself falling for him even more. He has charmed your students as well as you, and you decide to continue taking a chance on him.

Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley sounding hot

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley spent an hour bundling up all of his letters to your students, getting them ready to be sent back to California. Sure, he wanted to impress you, but he also couldn't deny that he was attached to hearing from Oliver, Violet, Jayden and everyone else. And according to you, they were just as happy to hear from him.

Without giving it a second thought, Bradley went all in with your personal email address. An account where he assumed you could say and send anything you wanted to. One that nobody else was monitoring. His thoughts strayed constantly over the past few hours to what that might mean. What did you deem too personal for your school account?

You told him you were single, and you made it seem like you were into him. You said he gave you butterflies, and now he desperately wanted to see this thing through. When he closed his eyes, he could picture the photos of your smiling face, and he felt a little dizzy. He wanted you to tell him everything. He wanted you to wait for him so he could take you on a date. Or several. He wanted to know what your lips tasted like.

It sounded like your ex was a real tool if he didn't appreciate what you did and how hard you worked. You taught eighteen kids enough about aviation that they asked Bradley some pertinent questions and brought up information that was relevant to his job. He was impressed as hell, and he thought he could be better than what you had before. He already knew without a shadow of a doubt that you were better than Vanessa. It was obvious.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw."

He turned toward the voice calling his name as soon as he dropped the package with your name on it off at the mail center. "Hey," he called out to the mechanic who let him take those photos for your class a few weeks ago. He read his jumpsuit again just to be sure. "What's up, Marty?"

He jerked his thumb toward the main deck and said, "I just got around to unpacking some new engine components. You still writing to those kids?"

"Yeah."

"I'm about to do some repairs if you want to take some more pictures or a video for them."

Bradley had been planning on stalking his inbox for the rest of the day in the hopes that you'd write back and comment on his brief missive telling you he wanted the conversation to go further, but this seemed better than driving himself crazy. He could practically picture you and your kids flipping through some photos and watching a cool video he managed to snag for you. "Yeah, Marty. Let me grab my phone, and I'll meet you out in the shop."

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

After you read the email from Bradley where he called you Gorgeous, you were up most of the night. First, you screeched and almost spilled hot tea all over yourself as you rushed to set your mug down on the coffee table so you could giggle and kick your feet in the air. Then you read and reread the short email for about five minutes, curled up in a little ball with your phone right in front of your face. Then you sprawled along your couch and let yourself imagine what he might be like in person.

It was too early to get your hopes up about ever getting that far, but you couldn't seem to stop yourself from thinking about it. You hummed softly, because in your daydream, he lived in San Diego and asked you out on a date, and he was a perfect gentleman until you didn't want him to be any longer. You didn't even consider what reality might hold, because you were sure you wouldn't like it as much.

But for now, he was on board with going further. Your expectations of things included chatting about your likes and dislikes as well as learning more about him. "I'd like to take it further," you read softly, trying to imagine it in a masculine voice. But what did that sentence mean for him? You sat up on the couch. Surely he wasn't going to turn into a pig and start sending you anything too raunchy. Right?

You swiped out of your email inbox and looked at the photo of him standing in front of his jet and moaned. It was actually your mind heading for the gutter as you wondered what it would feel like to be wrapped up in his big arms. What it would be like to tug the zipper of his flight suit down slowly, enjoying the feel of the pull between your thumb and index finger.

It was like the fictional leading man in a romance novel came to life and told you that he thought you were pretty and that he liked your students. You flopped back down on the couch and screeched into the pillow so as not to alarm your neighbors. You needed to respond, but you didn't know what to say since you were probably past the point of playing it cool. You chewed on your lip while you typed and then deleted several versions before sending him something that you thought was okay.

Bradley,

I'd like to take it further, too. I don't usually do this kind of thing (oh, who am I kidding... I never do this kind of thing), but there's just something about you that made me feel like it was worth the risk. I hope I'm not being too bold if I say that I found the photos you sent me quite distracting. However, it's not just your looks that made me share my personal email address with you. I like the way you give me butterflies. There's something sweet that comes through in your writing, and I want to get to know you better. On that note, if you feel so inclined, please tell me three things I should know about you.

Yours Truly,

Your favorite pen pal

Once again, you had written back to him so quickly, it should have been embarrassing, but you had nothing to lose here. You tossed out the bait, and he took it in the most spectacular fashion. You didn't want to miss an opportunity like this, even if he did seem too good to be true.

But he still hadn't written back when you got to work the next morning. The ping of the email alert on your phone made you reach for it immediately, but it was just a reminder to pay your bills on time. As you unlocked your classroom door and flipped the lights on, you considered that maybe your message was a little bit boring. After all, you were the one to bring your personal account into play. Perhaps he was expecting you to reply with some sort of dirty picture. Your cheeks burned with mixed embarrassment. You wanted to take it further, but you didn't know how. You just knew that you wanted to keep him engaged without compromising yourself.

You tucked your bag and your phone away in your desk drawer and pulled out your lesson plans for the day. You'd start things off with language arts and then work your way through math and science before your kids had art class. There was no reason you had to think about Bradley at all right now; he could just wait until later with his big hands and his thick thighs and his mustache and cute smile.

Just before your students were due to arrive, you opened your laptop and logged in to see which parents had emailed you with questions or concerns about their child. You froze when you saw an email that was sent a few minutes ago from Bradley with the subject line A visit to the mechanic's shop. When you opened it up, you found that he had attached a video and a handful of photos.

You were a little bit annoyed that he didn't respond to the message you sent from your other account where you asked him to tell you about himself, but that melted away as soon as you clicked on the video. His face flashed up on your computer screen, and all of the features you'd shamelessly memorized were right there in front of you. Cute smile, tidy mustache, brown eyes, wavy hair. But then you heard his voice.

"Hey. I just thought I'd take all nineteen of my favorite pen pals on a little tour around the mechanic shop aboard the Theodore Roosevelt. Sound good?"

You slammed your computer shut and moaned, thighs pressed tight together as your heart hammered. He was too much. It was just a video. He wasn't even really here, but he was an absolute assault on your senses. He called you gorgeous, but meanwhile it was hard to look directly at him for fear that you'd burst out into a fit of giggles. You shook your tingling hands out and slowly opened your computer again.

"Bradley Bradshaw. How are you this hot?" you whispered at the video paused on your screen. His face was frozen mostly in profile as he looked to the side, and for the first time, you saw some long scars on his cheek and neck. "Oh." They weren't new, rather giving the appearance that they had faded over time. You wondered how pronounced they would feel beneath your fingers. Would he let you touch them? Let you drag your lips across them while your hands found their way to his tousled hair?

After taking a few deep breaths, you let the video play again. Another man joined Bradley on the screen, and he was holding up a long, metal rod.

"This is my friend Marty. He's been a mechanic in the Navy for twenty-six years, and he specializes in aircraft repairs. He knows more about my Super Hornet than I do, and I'm not ashamed to admit that. So I'm just going to stand here and hold my phone still while we watch Marty do his thing."

The rest of the video was fascinating. It was still interesting the second time when you watched it with your class instead of doing your language arts lesson. The kids sat at rapt attention, eating up that little introduction that Bradley gave just as you had. He didn't talk to them like a bunch of little kids who didn't understand anything, which you loved. He and Marty explained what they were doing without making it too juvenile. Then when the video ended, your kids started raising their hands with question after question.

"You know what to do," you told them, holding out a dry erase marker for Jackie to take. She wrote down the list of questions that everyone had for Bradley while you tapped through the photos, once again imagining how warm and rough his hands would feel wrapped around your own instead of an intake manifold.

The impromptu aviation lesson lasted for two hours until your kids left for art class, and now you were a little concerned about all of the additional, more personal questions you had for Bradley besides the ones your class came up with. You wanted to know how old he was and where his scars came from. You wanted to know where he lived now, but you were too afraid of the answer. According to one of the notes he wrote back to Violet, he went to the University of Virginia. He even sounded like he was from the east coast.

You sat at your desk alone, digging your snack out of your drawer along with your phone. There was a new email. You smiled as you realized he must have sent it to you just after he emailed the video he took for your whole class to watch. The opening greeting once again had you kicking your feet beneath your desk, snack forgotten.

Hey, Gorgeous,

I'm still having a hard time believing that you want to get to know me better. Full disclosure, I'm a little nervous you'll get bored talking to me. I don't have much family, and I know it's cliche, but flying really is my passion. I spend a lot of my time on aircraft carriers which makes it hard to maintain relationships and friendships with people on dry land.

Talking to my nineteen new pen pals has been the most exciting part of my deployment. But you're right... you're my favorite one. I could tell from the first letter that wasn't even specifically meant for me that you were funny and sweet. And then I saw what you look like, and I kept going back to the photo for another look. You're just as gorgeous as you are funny and sweet.

Three things you should know about me? One, I'm afraid of spiders. Like so afraid of them that I might have a crisis on my hands if you tell me you have a beloved pet tarantula or something. Two, I loved taking piano lessons so much when I was a kid, I actually still take them. (Now I'm sitting here wondering why I'm telling you embarrassing shit.) My next door neighbor is a retired music teacher, and when I'm home, I trade yard work for piano lessons. Everyone wins. Third, I like giving Gorgeous teachers butterflies. That's a new one, but I thought you should know about it.

I'm giving you some homework, hope you don't mind. I want you to send me a picture of one of those San Diego sunsets where the sky somehow looks both blue and orange at the same time. If you happen to be in the photo, I'm not going to complain. I would also love to hear three things I should know about you.

Please tell your kids they have mail on the way. I hope to hear back from them. And you.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

Oh. This crush was even worse than you thought.

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

After days of running drills, Bradley was finally grounded because of a bad storm that was closing in, and he was given a few hours off. He stood out on deck, letting the first drops of hard rain hit his face. He was hoping to get a nice sunset photo to send to you, but the past few days had been terribly cloudy. And now he felt like he was being torn in three directions as his flight suit got wet: he was sweaty, hungry and curious. As a result, he couldn't decide if he should hit the shower, the mess hall or the lounge first.

He reasoned that he'd best appreciate an email from you if he was cleaned up and well fed. If you'd had time to write back to him, it would top off his night in the sweetest way possible. So he took a shower and unfortunately had to eat cabbage rolls for dinner. He chuckled to himself as he walked toward the lounge, picturing a bunch of fourth graders eating dinner in the mess hall and ranking the foods. They would probably love that, actually.

As Bradley logged in and watched his email inbox appear on one of the lounge computers, he muttered, "Hell yes." There was a new message from you, and he couldn't click on it fast enough. Before he started reading, the attached photo caught his attention, and he grunted softly. Fuck.

There you were, on a stretch of beach in Coronado, not even a mile from his house with the sun setting behind you. Your features were in shadow, but your smile was a little shy and very pretty. You looked so soft, standing there on the windswept sand in denim shorts and an oversized sweatshirt with Mira Mesa Elementary printed on the front, and all he wanted to do was touch you. He could already imagine a picnic dinner on that beach, snuggling up with you as cooler temperatures moved in. Enjoying the blues and oranges until the sky got so dark, he'd lead you back to his house with your fingers laced with his.

Bradley,

I'm turning in my homework. I hope I get a passing grade. I'm not usually the student, so I'm a little out of practice. A Naval officer from Top Gun took this photo for me. Apparently aviators just like you are all over the beaches in Coronado.

I have some good news for you. While I'm not actually afraid of spiders, I promise I don't have a beloved pet tarantula. And I'm sorry, but the idea of you still taking piano lessons made me giggle for a solid minute. The mental image is just that adorable.

You always seem to know what to say to make my butterflies go crazy, and that's just through the written word. As an educator, I always stress the importance of honesty to my students. So let me just say that honestly, I'm not going to get bored talking to you. I also can't lie about the fact that I watched the video you sent several times just to hear your voice. (Now I'm the one embarrassing herself.) And I really can't see how you would have a hard time maintaining a relationship while you're away. Maybe your previous partners didn't appreciate how rare it is to find someone who is willing to put in some effort. Or maybe they didn't find your arachnophobia oddly endearing. But I kind of do.

Three things you should know about me: 1. I graduated from college with a 4.0 GPA. 2. Sometimes I fall asleep during movies, especially if I'm snuggled up on my own couch. 3. I have a crush on you.

Hitting send before I can change my mind.

Bradley couldn't help the smile teasing at his lips as he tucked his hands behind his head and read your last few sentences again. He always wanted to continue talking to you, so maybe it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that you wouldn't grow bored with this. Maybe you'd care more about him than going out on dates, unlike Vanessa. He wasn't going to wait before responding to your email. What was the point? You were into him, and he was definitely into you.

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

"We got mail!" you announced, holding up the package that was waiting for you in the school office when you refilled your travel coffee mug on your way to your classroom. Your students erupted into delighted conversation.

"Is it from Lieutenant Bradshaw?" asked Jayden.

"Of course it is," Violet told him. "It must be. He's our pen pal after all."

"Did he send us more notes?" Oliver asked, practically bouncing out of his seat in anticipation.

"He did!" you confirmed as you tore into the package and enlisted Harrison to help you hand the individual notes to their recipients. The room went silent as soon as they all started reading, and then one after the next, the kids started to get out their notebooks to start their responses.

You felt warm all over. Bradley was on your mind a lot, and you didn't really want him going anywhere. You watched the video he sent again last night before you went to sleep, and you dreamed about a strong man with a sexy voice curled up behind you in bed. You knew you had a new email from him, but you were waiting until you could sit quietly during your lunch break to read it.

At some point, you were going to have to taper off the aviation curriculum and focus on other things, but you just didn't want to have to do that yet. Not when your class was so engaged. Not when it made you feel connected to a man thousands of miles away who you had feelings for in spite of the fact that you never met him in person. In spite of the fact that you were too afraid to ask him where he lived.

After you eventually walked your kids down to the lunchroom, you were free to read your email from Bradley in peace. But the more you thought about opening it, you started to get nervous. You already admitted you were interested in him, so there was really no going back. If he hadn't sent you something similar, you were going to have to crawl under a rock, but you got your phone out as you took a deep breath and started reading.

Hey, Gorgeous,

Now wait right there. I have some concerns. I'm going to address them in order, so please bear with me. First of all, you didn't just pass your homework assignment, you got an A+. I've never seen such a beautiful sunset in my life, and yet it was barely noticeable next to you. But here's my main issue. I can't have another aviator taking sunset photos of you and sweeping you off your feet. How about you just stay off that beach in Coronado for the time being? Give a guy a chance here?

I couldn't agree more about the importance of being honest. Honestly, I'm letting out the breath I've been holding, worried that you were going to send me a photo of you with your pet tarantula. And honestly, smart women really do it for me, so any time you want to bring up that 4.0 GPA, I'm going to need a minute. And honestly, nothing sounds better than watching a movie with you on your couch right now. Can't stop thinking about it, actually.

Please, tell me in an overabundance of detail, what you would do if I promised I would take you out to dinner but then changed my mind and told you that I was tired from work and wanted to spend a quiet evening on my couch with some takeout instead.

You have a crush on me? Gorgeous girl, all I can think about is the couple days of leave I'm going to have once this aircraft carrier finally docks back in San Diego. Where you are. You and my eighteen other pen pals. I think I have a thing for fourth grade teachers. Or maybe it's just you. I can't wait to hear from you again.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

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

Okay. Some admissions have been made. Little bits of feelings have been established. She has seen him and heard his voice, and I think we're ready to keep taking things further. Maybe a phone call? Maybe another photo or two? We also can't leave the fourth graders hanging. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 5

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849 notes · View notes

k-hotchoisan · 5 months

Note

hi!! can i request a toxic “you were made for me” or “they’re trying to take you from me” smut with san? 🫦 head spinning knees bucking — also ur work is so amazing!! 🫶🏻

Oooooo okay this might be a little fun ✨

I usually don’t write toxic male leads but I’ve been a bit into the Saltburn rabbit hole, so Oliver has sort of activated a little obsession in me 🥳

Don’t worry, this work won’t contain too much weirdness I promise 😛

Enjoy. ❤️

angelholic

Synopsis: Well, if you haven’t realised it yet, then he’ll make you realise it soon enough.

Genres/warnings: smut, possessive/obsessed/calculating! San x clueless! Reader, jealousy, unprotected sex, it gets slightly rough, choking, pet name—“bunny”, dacryphilia, cream pies, corruption kink

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia

You watch as San fits on his black Angel wings over his half-assed costume, if you could even call it that. He’s just dressed in a white tank and black slacks, and in his own words “couldn’t be bothered”. You pout to yourself, thinking how lucky he is to have such a strong face card that he looked good in almost everything he puts on.

“Come here, bunny”, he gestures, once he fits the wings slightly better onto his back. You walk up to him, in your pretty little dress, ready for the mid summer party one of your friends has invited the both of you to. He pulls out a nice shade of pink lipstick in your collection, then his fingers graze your jaw gently before he tilts your chin upwards, unscrewing the cap with the tube in his mouth and swiping the wand onto your lips to transfer the pigment. Your heart races when he does that effortlessly, just like the way you met him for the first time at your campus library—trying to reach out for a book, and you felt his body heat radiating through the cold air conditioning, as he tilts the spine of the book and has it drop onto his big hands, before he hands it to you. He has that same look as he tells you to press your lips to transfer the pigment to your upper lips.

Now all you’re doing is staring at his lips, thinking to waste his efforts to smudge it his lips, his cock, whatever.

San has always been an attentive (and attractive) partner—it’s as if he’s always just a stone throw away from you, ensuring all your needs are met, showering you with endless affections. You couldn’t ask for anything better.

But throughout the relationship, you realise something—he’s clingy. Very clingy. Often times he would have his hands all over you if he could, as if it would be the very last time he would see you—his hands clasped around your waist, or arm, chest, wherever, before he suffocates you with kisses which inevitably most of the time ending up with his cock drilled in you. You find it nothing short of endearing though, even his best friends tell you that’s just the way San is.

When the both of you reach the huge mansion, you gawk at the size of the estate. San chuckles at the way your eyes widen, planting a soft kiss on your temple before he leads you by your hand to enter the mansion.

Upon entering, you scan the crowded hallway which contained a mix of both familiar and unfamiliar people, your grip tightening against San’s arm. Pricks of irritation bite San as he notices the amount of eyes on you, which he assumes that it could be due to the short summer dress you’re wearing.

He spots Mingi in the crowd and he approaches him. When Mingi notices the both of you, he whistles in approval.

“Damn, aren’t both of you stealing the show”, he teases after giving San a hug. San laughs in reply, entertaining Mingi.

“This reminds me of when the both of you got close after summer party Wooyoung threw”, Mingi reminisces as he takes a sip of his cup.

“Right. San was so out of it when I found him outside alone”, you giggled as San pouts at you.

“You definitely caught him at a funny time—pissed drunk and all”, Mingi teases as he takes a playful punch to the arm.

“Okay, listen, I like to pretend that I can take my alcohol alright? Not to mention, we already had met by then. We just got to know each other better”, San emphasises, pulling your waist closer to him as he nuzzles into your neck, making you squeal and Mingi roll his eyes.

You listen to their conversation, despite your wandering eyes. You eyes land on a classmate, and you tap San’s arm to get his attention. He immediately pauses and turns to you.

“Babe, I’ll catch up with you in a bit. I’m gonna say hi to my friends,” you say. San has a doubtful expression, but he nods and lets you slip away, turning back to Mingi and getting engrossed in conversation once again.

Ten minutes go by. Then twenty. The pricks San feels start to bother him, and he starts to wonder what’s taking you so long. His eyes drift across the room, in search of his partner.

His eyes land on you, giggling with a mixed gendered group of friends with a drink in your hand. Yunho has come by and has Mingi’s attention, so San excuses himself to walk over to you. His gaze pierces into you, as he watches the other male before you touch your shoulder as he laughs, and you entertain him, not bothering to swipe his hand away. San takes a sharp inhale, pushing past the people that crowded the area, drawing gazes by his sharp features.

You jump slightly when you feel a large arm curl around your waist. “Hey babe”, San whispers, planting a soft kiss on your temple before eyeing down the male individuals that stood before you.

“Are these your friends from your classes?”, San asks, giving them a nod with a bright smile plastered on his face. San has seen them before, around you, much to his dismay when he was sending you to your classes during your semesters, but he never bothered to get to know them.

“Yeah”, you reply, and you introduce them one by one to your boyfriend, with San extending his arm out with a smile, shaking each and every one of them, keeping their names in mind.

“So you’re the one dude who swept her off her feet by sharing an umbrella with her”, your male friend teases. You laugh in response, your hand covering your mouth as you do. San raises an eyebrow.

“Definitely sounds like fate—her umbrella breaking out of all days and suddenly San comes in to the rescue”, a female friend points out, chuckling as she sips on her drink. “That’s some k-drama type of bullshit. What’s your secret?”

“No clue. I think he probably fell from the sky or something”, you reply.

“You definitely caught some gazes when you were waltzing in with y/n, too”, another one chimes in, eyeing your partner. You roll your eyes playfully as you feel San squeeze your waist playfully.

“Then again, y/n had her fair share of stolen glances when she walked in too”, another male friend adds, admiring your dress, which has San clearing his throat in slight irritation. He stares daggers at your naive peer, who doesn’t seem to get the hint.

San is scrolling through his phone absentmindedly, while you’re seating on top of him being entertained by your friends. Your peers notice the way his arm never leaves your body, but obviously don’t realise how he’s subconsciously eavesdropping your messy conversations.

Between the playful banters and sneer remarks, his irritation continues to rise every time he hears you giggle at a male friend’s lame joke. San thinks to himself that said friend should shut up instead of running his mouth like that. San’s jokes would definitely make you laugh harder—no fuck that—he doesn’t even need to make an effort to make you giggle, and he scoffs at the thought, while hugging you tighter to his body.

A little later, he’s getting restless, and he shifts slightly, leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “Gonna take more drinks bunny. Wait for me here. Do you want anything?” You shake your head, standing up to let him go and he walks off.

“Fuck. He’s really such a catch”, your friend reiterates, giggling playfully behind her palm.

“He’s pretty clingy, don’t you think?” Another adds in, and you glance over at San’s tall and big frame, caught up with talking with Wooyoung.

You turn back to your friend. “Really? I know his friends told me before but I think that’s just part of his charm, it’s kind of cute.” Your friend only shrugs in response. You pause and think about it. San has never shown you any side of jealousy or anything. Most of the time he ends up kissing your shoulders with his hands around your waist—a habit you’re basically used to at this point.

What you don’t realise is the way San casting you side glances, his grip tightening against his cup as he watches your friends pull you closer to them, their hands feeling your bare arms up and one of your male friend even leaning in to whisper something in your ear, making your eyes widen as you hit them on the arm, how their knees are bumping a little too much onto yours.

“-San”, Wooyoung’s voice snaps his attention back. San glances at Wooyoung, who has a concerned look on his face. “You seem distracted. You okay?”

San only shrugs it off with a laugh. “Yeah. Just didn’t realise how close she is with those bunch of people”, he replies, his mind now wandering how to just remove you from the irritating friend group holding you hostage.

“That’s good, isn’t it? At least you don’t have to stay by her side for the most part. They seem nice.”

San cocks an eyebrow. “Oh do they? I feel like they’ve been kind of hogging her a little too much tonight”, he says, keeping his tone neutral, despite the obvious tint of venom that hides in his words.

Wooyoung seems to pick it up a little, but he doesn’t push nor question further, settled on observing San’s body language. He’s always known San to be a pretty generous person—giving more than taking, and that’s how he has been during the course of the relationship with you ever since.

At least, that’s what Wooyoung and the rest of his friend group had observed. He lets the thought go as he watches his best friend leave to claim you once more, before Hongjoong comes by to pull him out of his thoughts.

San is seeing red. He sees red the moment your male friend has his hand slapping on your leg as he leans forward, laughing along with you. His drink is dumped haphazardly into the sink as he storms over to you.

The only person that should make you laugh and swoon like that is him. The only person that should be touching you is him. The only person you should be giving attention to is him.

The group’s laughter fades as San’s frame looms over you. You glance up at him, and he looks like Angel with those wings and the chandelier lights casting down on him. You are almost enchanted.

San plasters a smile, with nothing sweet behind it as his fingers curl around your wrist, before he pulls you out of the chair. You cast your partner a confused glance before he drags you away with him. You turn back, mirroring the confused expressions your friends hold, only able to cast an apologetic look before you’re attention is back on San, who’s fingers are now interlocked with yours as he leads you up the stairs to the second floor.

He reaches to a random door, knocks before he simply pushes the door open without much thought, and has you splayed on the bed in seconds. You’re still in a state of confusion, your dress hiked up to your thighs.

“San, wha-“ he barely lets you finish your sentence before he cups your mouth, and the sinister glint in his eyes never falter. He looks at you with lust and something else that you cannot quite pinpoint. But in seconds, under his strong gaze, you feel yourself turning into putty in his hands, eyes darting desperately from his eyes to his mouth to his eyes again.

“Bunny”, his voice sounding like honey, although his next words are nothing but. “Don’t you think you forgot about me?”

You blink at his words, still trying to make sense of it. “N-no. Weren’t you behind me most of the time?” You start, squeezing your thighs at the way he’s staring down at you. You’ve never seen him look like this before.

“Feels like you did”, he feigns a pout, however the emotion devoid from his eyes. “Looked like you were having so much fun without me there-“

He crawls onto the bed, inching towards you, and you pull backwards, your heart pounding in your chest. Your words are trapped in your throat, your brain unable to formulate a response when San is staring you down like that.

“-giggling, letting your friends touch you up like that”, he spits. You cannot tell if he’s angry, because you see his erection pressing against the fabric of his slacks, which he pays no attention to.

“Don’t you feel back for neglecting me?” He asks, his glare now holding a tint of melancholy. He looks almost pleading. But you still shift backwards as he continues to trap you on the bed, crawling forward until he has you completely under him.

He suddenly stops. Then lowers himself to the flare of your sun dress, scrunching the fabric up past your thighs, revealing your soaked panties, the colour matching your dress. He glances back up at you to meet your gaze.

“I think you need a reminder who you belong to”, he mutters, loud enough for you to hear, tugging the waist band of your panties, and leaving it somewhere on the bed.

“Look at you. Haven’t done anything, yet you’ve soaked your pretty panties. Naughty.”

That does nothing but let a fresh coat of slick paint your pussy after spitting it out.

“San…” you pant, your fingers trembling as he pushes your dress up further, high enough for his lips to meet your pussy but low enough that you can’t see him right there.

You gasp when his tongue presses against your wet cunt. And the real hell starts when the begins flicking his tongue against your clit, stimulating the bundle of nerves over and over again, ignoring your cries to stop, if not, only going faster, holding your thighs open while he laps up all of your juices.

Your mind is completely blown as your cunt continues to build from the pleasure from San’s tongue. Your hands fly to tangle into San’s locks. There’s something so perverted about having your lover dressed up as an angel, lapping your pussy up like a starved individual, under your dress. It only drives you further to the edge.

Your orgasm is just dangling from you, building and building. Your breath heavy and shallow, whines and whimpers in begs for your partner to let you release.

Then a choked sob when he leaves you high and dry, your cunt so wet and pathetic now that the section beneath you is starting to stain with your arousal, your orgasm completely ripped from you.

“Baby. Please…”, you beg, your cunt wildly convulsing, begging for release that’s just trapped at the edge.

“Are you gonna behave for me, Bunny?” San simply asks, towering over you as he licks your arousal that coated his lips.

You nod, your thighs and arms twitching every few seconds, as you attempt to regulate your breathing.

Which all becomes completely useless when he plunges two fingers into your cunt so easily, and your thighs twitch from the overstimulation despite the lack of orgasm, a sobbed moan cracking from your lips as your eyes roll back. His fingers always stuffed you so full. Not enough, you think in your filthy head. Not enough.

“Answer me, bunny.” San hisses, intentionally missing the spongy spot he knows would break you in an instant.

You’re close to tears, forcing yourself to look up at the male with the angel wings before you.

“Yes. I’ll behave, Sannie”, you whimper.

San’s glaze softens slightly as he aims at your pretty little sensitive spot, his thumb rubbing your clit at the same time.

“That’s my good girl. Do you think you deserve to cum?” He asks, stroking your jaw, watching your expression completely fall apart as he teases you poor cunt with inconsistent rubs and fucks, and you’re back to the frustration.

“Please let me. I’ll let you do anything to me, please. I wanna cum. Wanna cum so bad”, you’re begging again, your fingers pressing against his arm, almost clawing at him. That seems to satisfy him for now, since he fucks your g-spot over and over with his fingers while making sure your clit doesn’t get neglected, and you’re crying as the knot in your stomach completely snaps, squirting and creaming all over your dress and the bedsheets beneath you as San ensures you ride your orgasm as long as you could. Your moans become sobs, you swear someone can hear you, but at that point, you were to blissed out in pleasure to care.

This has never happened in your relationship before.

You watch him with hooded lids as he slides his slacks off, leaving his cock to spring out proudly, angry and red.

San shifts and then has his cock right at your face. His fingers slide into your hair, grabbing a handful of it.

“Suck.”

There’s something sinful about getting your face fucked by San in Angel wings, which you cannot deny was turning you on so much that you’re growing dizzy, especially at the way he’s tugging your hair and stuffing your throat full of his cock. Your muffled moans as you try to accommodate his length only fails as you gag, the pool of precum and spit leaking past the corner of your lips and staining more of your dress.

San pulls out from your mouth. He’s not interested in cumming down your throat tonight. His cock is now even harder, covered in your spit and his precum.

He yanks your dress off, leaving you completely bare for him.

“Such a pretty view. My pretty bunny.” He admires your nudity before him, latching his tongue onto your collar bone, trailing down to your tits, as he gives both a nice suck and lets hickeys bloom all over chest and neck, leaving you shaking and whimpering in his wake.

He swiftly shifts positions, and you’re straddling his lap, as his fingers on your jaw pull you towards him, and he feels you melt into the passionate kiss. He drags his cock against your bare ass and back, and you whimper, wanting him to just fill you up right now.

“Need you to fuck me now. Can’t take it anymore”, you whimper, trying to slide his cock into your hole, but San holds your thighs still.

“You said you’d behave for me, right bunny?” San reminds you again, and you nod frantically.

He pulls you into a hug, letting your body weight press onto him as he angles his cock to your hole, pushing his girthy length in, letting your cries play in his ear as he stretches you out.

“Oh, bunny. Can’t you see that I’m made for you? Made to fuck this pretty little tight hole of yours”, San hums in your ear as he lifts you, watching your eyes completely roll back as his cock completely sinks in you. His fingers run along your thighs as he feels them twitch, before he looks back up at you.

He doesn’t need to say anything—you’re moving on your own, grinding, then bouncing on his cock, San’s pretty face contorting as you fuck his cock, and your mind completely blank as you let him fuck your insides. More cream starts forming on his cock as you lift your hips, only to slam down once more to engulf your pretty boy’s cock.

“You’re mine, bunny. No one can make you feel this good. No one can fuck you this good”, his voice barely processing in your head, not when he has his cock completely buried inside you, obliterating any ounce of rational thought left in you. You feel yourself clench around him, and a low groan emits from the male beneath you. He knows you’re close.

Yes. He’s right. You’re his, and only his. It fucks you up that no one is gonna make you feel this good. No one is gonna fuck your hole as perfectly as San. No one’s cock is as good as his.

San knows he’s ruined you for anyone else, and he hides that satisfaction with another thrust into your abused cunt, drawing out more broken moans from you.

“Gonna cum again…” you sob, your pussy fluttering once more as you let yourself go all over San’s cock. He only encourages you to keep going—to keep sucking him in as you continue to fall apart. It’s only seconds more before his high pitched moans follow, then warm cum filling you up all the way. You’re crying his name over and over, and San has his hands cupping your cheek, wiping your tears.

But he’s not done with you yet.

He gingerly carries you off him, watching your eyes widen as his cock pulls out of you, with San’s cum dribbling out of your pathetic hole. Your head hits the pillow and you relax a little, barely a few seconds before San slides his cock back into you from behind, displacing more of his cum with dirty wet squelches.

“You’re still so fucking tight even after letting me cum so much inside of you”, you feel him smirk at your ear. “Do you want another load, bunny?”

“More, please. I’ve been so good. I can take another”, you beg, so fucking out of it by then, so fucking cockdrunk. He has both his arms around you—one holding your hands back, the other curling around your neck, pretty much choking you out while he drives his cock in and out of you, watching you completely go dumb as the words that leave your mouth are complete incoherent moans. But he knows you feel so good.

“Such a good bunny. That’s my pretty girl”, San’s voice buzzes in your ear. Your third orgasm comes without much of a warning—like fireworks that burst beneath your eyelids, your vision blurring from the mind blowing pleasure. You’re pathetic—jerking helplessly as your orgasm overwhelms you on top of the overstimulation, creaming uncontrollably around San’s pulsing cock.

“Here’s your load, bunny. All for you”, San hums, his hips drilling into you mercilessly before he stills into you, his second load filling you up once more, his moans at your ear making your thighs tremble. It’s so much, but you hear yourself begging for him to just unload it all in you.

You don’t fucking understand how he’s able to release another full load into your tight pussy for the second time, but fuck, there’s no point thinking right now, not when your body is just buzzing from your high, and when he just bred you two fucking loads full.

Your strength dissipates, but you still find it in you to turn to face him, after he pulls out, letting the thick stream of cum dirty your inner thighs, to nuzzle against his chest as he draws gentle circles on your back with his warm fingertips.

His lips press gently onto the side of your head as he soothes your thighs, making sure you’re leaning into him as you attempt to fight the sleep.

The moment Choi San laid his eyes on you, it made something tick in him. He’s never felt this way before, and the more he finds himself thinking about you, the more he craves your presence, especially when you run over to his friend group—apparently you met Wooyoung first, and when you greet him with a bright smile, he feels his mind shut off.

And that was why he orchestrated his coincidental meet ups with you.

All of it.

He asked the librarian about you, and despite the fact she vaguely tells him that she doesn’t remember how you look like, the offhanded comment about who she thinks is you coming by from 2pm onwards on most Tuesdays was enough information to conjure an encounter with you.

He finds out the book you’re looking for, and shifts it at a higher section of the shelf, then swooping in to retrieve it for you when you’re evidently struggling to get it yourself. That already helps to plant something in your head, especially as a first meeting.

The party Wooyoung organised was a blast, even though you didn’t know everyone else there. You had left your group of acquaintances for some fresh air, and spotted a particular male hiccuping against the swing, away from the main party. Upon closer examination, it was indeed the male who had helped you with retrieving the book you wanted. His face is completely flushed, his fingers barely holding onto the beer can.

He seemed to notice your presence, his gaze locking onto yours.

“San, right?” You ask. San tilts his head.

“Who’s asking?”

You stifle a giggle.

“Me. I was just making sure.”

He returns a pretty tipsy smile. “Right. You’re y/n, aren’t you?” You nod in reply.

“No one’s sitting here. Don’t be shy”, he gestures. “The fresh air feels nice.”

“Are you drunk, San?” You ask, soaking in the redness of his face, how eyes are shutting slightly. Despite all that, he still looks dashing.

“Maybe? I don’t know. I can take at least three more shots, I swear”, he proclaims to no one in particular. It makes you laugh. San stares at you with a pout. You let your smile linger a little more, and decide to entertain his drunken shenanigans deep into the night as you take sips of your own drink, your knees bumping onto his from time to time. At one point, his head leans onto your shoulder, his face almost nuzzling into your neck in his drunken stupor, talking about the conspiracy theories he was adamant in believing, making you laugh and refute him despite the way he’s turning you more redder than he is.

As he inhales your intoxicating scent, his eyes are wide open, sober since the beginning you found him.

On another day, when he reads through the weather forecast stating that it’d shower through the day, he watches you leave your seat at the library to the washroom, before he walks over and rummages through your bag, snagging your umbrella, and breaking it before he drops it back into your bag, zipping it before he continues to lurk around the bookshelves.

Sure enough, it pours. He watches you hastily pull out your umbrella, only for it to snap and fall apart, and the sheer panic that floods your expression.

He would walk up beside you, pulling his umbrella open, before your eyes meet his.

“Hey, it’s you again”, he’d gleefully say. “You alright?” His eyes are inquisitive, as he stares at you struggle with your broken umbrella.

“Ah, San!” You greet quickly. “Yeah, I think my umbrella’s broken.…and it’s pouring so much too.”

“You wanna share? This umbrella’s big enough for the both of us”, he suggests, watching in amusement as you blink.

“I can’t possibly do that… I’m going back to the dorms”, you reply with furrowed eyebrows in guilt for troubling him.

“Great, I need to make a short trip to the convenience store nearby. It’s not a hassle, I promise”, he assures with a smile. “And this for that night. For accompanying me.”

Your cheeks flush, and you nod, walking under his umbrella with him. Through the walk, he asks about you, his arm around you to prevent you from getting drenched. You insist to repay him back, and he playfully asks for your number so you can treat him to a cup of coffee on another day

One thing led to another—it started with the random texts and plans to meet outside, which gradually turned more affectionate.

Soon, he had his lips pressed onto yours one night when the tension between the both of you snapped as he sheepishly tells you that he likes you on a windy autumn evening.

But of course, his obsession only grows. Now, he just needs to make sure he gets rid of people who get in between the both of you.

Well, he doesn’t need you to know all that, not when he already has you all for himself.

San looks down at you, heaving softly against his bare chest, curled up against him. His hand absentmindedly stroking your hair, his eyes trailing the trail of bites he had littered all over your neck, shoulder, and tits.

You’re his, his, his.

#ateez fanfic #ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez smut #smut #ateez fic #kpop smut #choi san smut #Choi san #ateez san #San ateez #ateez choi san #choi san x reader #san x y/n #san imagines #san smut

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solarmorrigan · 4 months

Text

Hands Where I Can See Them, Part 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Here’s the thing: Jeff isn’t actually a meddler by nature.

He’s perfectly content to let people be. He keeps himself to himself and is happy when others do the same. It’s not that he’s never curious, it’s just that he asks personal questions sparingly. And he’s probably going to ask them even more sparingly in the future, because the last time he’d asked one, he’d accidentally broken up one of his best friend’s relationships.

In fairness to Jeff, that relationship was going to blow up sooner rather than later (that is, in fact, exactly what Eddie had said to him when they’d talked a few days after the incident in question; Eddie had even said that he thinks he’d needed the wakeup call, though he’d have preferred it hadn’t happened the way it did – the way that hurt Steve so much. All the same, he seems determined to make things right, so– maybe not the worst thing in the world?), but still, Jeff feels a little… guilty isn’t quite the word, but he doesn’t have a better name for the squirm of emotion in his gut when he catches sight of Steve at Melvald’s one evening.

He hasn’t seen Steve in over a week, now – not since he’d abruptly left Eddie’s place after being unceremoniously informed that his boyfriend (Jeff’s pretty sure that’s the train Steve had been on) is apparently not actually his boyfriend.

And it isn’t as though he or Gareth or Oliver had really hung out with Steve sans Eddie before, but that doesn’t mean they wouldn’t be willing; Jeff’s experience with Steve Harrington in high school had been peripheral at best, and though he hadn’t had the best impression of him at first, he’d actually come to enjoy his company since he started hanging around Eddie after that disaster of a spring break. He doesn’t know much about D&D (though Jeff suspects he knows a lot more than he lets on), and he’s not particularly into fantasy or sci-fi, but he does have a bizarrely encyclopedic knowledge of sports, and had been excited to learn that Jeff is into baseball and hockey.

He's just as bitchy as Jeff had always thought he was, but he’s also unexpectedly kind, and funny in a way that had caught all of them off guard, and largely seems like a solid sort of guy.

And Jeff just feels kind of shitty that the last time they hung out had ended the way it had, that’s all.

That is his main excuse for why he approaches Steve in the cereal aisle at Melvald’s at 8 p.m. on a Friday.

He clears his throat. “Hey.”

Steve turns, brows furrowed as he looks to see who’s trying to get his attention, clearly not expecting any kind of social encounter, but his expression clears a bit when he sees Jeff. “Oh. Uh– Hey,” he says. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I don’t seem like the type to eat breakfast cereal?” Jeff teases, and a little bit of the tension in Steve’s shoulders seems to ease away.

“More like I thought I was the only person lame enough to be grocery shopping on a Friday night,” he counters with a smirk.

“You might be,” Jeff says, though he keeps his voice warm. “I just stopped in to pick up some snacks for the weekend after– uh,” Jeff stops short; shit, why did he bring that up?

Steve stares at him for a moment, calculating, and Jeff sees the moment he makes the connection.

“Hellfire tonight, right?” Steve asks, his tone almost unnervingly neutral as he looks back towards the shelves.

“Yeah,” Jeff says, still watching Steve carefully. “Just ended about half an hour ago.”

Steve gives a slow nod. “How was it?”

And – well, there are two options from here. Jeff could take Steve’s polite interest at face value, tell him it was a good session, and let them both awkwardly get on with their nights, or… He could be truthful, and maybe see how Steve’s really doing (which would also be awkward, so it’s not like Jeff really has much to lose).

“To be honest? Not great.” Jeff shrugs. “Eddie hasn’t been in good form lately.”

He can see the curve of a sad sort of smile cross Steve’s face, just briefly.

“That sucks, man. Hope he, uh… gets his head back in the game soon, I guess?” Steve offers.

Whether he does or not will probably be entirely dependent on how his plans to fix things with Steve play out; Eddie hadn’t told Jeff much (apparently, he’s done accidentally flying his dirty laundry for the time being), but he had said that Steve had asked for a little time, and that they would be talking again soon.

“I think he’s working on it,” Jeff says, rather than digging into that particular can of worms. “And, uh… How are you doing?”

“Fine,” Steve says a little too quickly. “I’m fine.”

Jeff pauses for a minute, pursing his lips and staring up at the ceiling. Is he really doing this? On a Friday night at fucking Melvald’s?

“It just sucks,” he finally says, “that…”

“That you all had to see that I’m actually an oversensitive loser when you realized I’d basically made up an entire relationship and then ran out over it like an idiot?” Steve suggests, his tone so false and light that it sets Jeff on edge.

“That Eddie couldn’t see that he had something really good in front of him. That he completely fumbled it,” Jeff corrects him.

It’s only after he’s spoken that he remembers they’re in a public place, and that talking to one guy about his relationship with another guy isn’t particularly safe. He glances around, hoping it’s not too little, too late, and is relieved to find that the store is just as empty as it had been when he’d first stepped in. When he looks back to Steve, he finds him staring, brows furrowed like he’s trying to puzzle something out.

“Isn’t Eddie one of your best friends?” Steve asks at last.

Jeff shrugs. “Makes me qualified to point out when he’s been an idiot.”

Steve says nothing, just pins Jeff with that confused stare for a moment longer before turning back to the shelf, as if he might finally decide on what cereal he wants.

“If it helps at all,” Jeff says, more quietly this time, “the reason we were even talking about it is because I asked Eddie how it was going – the two of you dating. We all thought you were. We were– well, probably not just as surprised as you, but pretty damn surprised when Eddie said you weren’t.”

“That… actually does. A little,” Steve answers softly, cutting a quick glance at Jeff. “Thanks.”

Jeff shrugs. “It’s just– Eddie’s not– he’s not a bad guy. He gets caught up in things, and he forgets to pay attention, but he wouldn’t do something like that on purpose.”

“I know,” Steve says, not quite sharp, but not quite gentle, either.

“Sorry, I’m not… trying to talk him up. I swear I’m not here advocating for him, or whatever.” Jeff sighs. “You’re totally within your rights to tell him to fuck off—hell, you can tell me to fuck off—I just wanted to say that if he tells you he’s sorry, if he says he wants to fix it, he really does mean it.”

“Yeah. I know,” Steve says again, and this time he sounds gentle – a little soft and distant.

Jeff reaches up and clasps one hand over Steve’s shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze before releasing him. “Anyway, if we’re not going to be seeing you at any of the regular places, you should come over and catch a game sometime.”

It seems like a given that Steve won’t be sitting in on anymore Hellfire sessions for a while, or coming to see their gigs at The Hideout like he had been (he’s already missed one, and they had all pretended not to notice the way Eddie had completely ignored the side of the room with the table where Steve would usually sit and watch), but Jeff finds himself unwilling to let go of his friendship entirely.

“Yeah?” Steve asks, glancing over again.

“Sure.” Jeff shrugs. “Offer stands. Gareth and Oliver’d be happy to see you, too.”

“They’re not into sports,” Steve says.

“But they can be bribed with snacks,” Jeff answers, and Steve gives a huff of a laugh.

“Cool,” he says, the first real smile Jeff’s seen from him all night beginning to cross his face. “I’ll give you a call sometime.”

Jeff smirks at him. “Will you have your people call my people?” he teases, and Steve reaches out to give his shoulder a light shove.

“Fuck off, man,” he snickers.

“Only because I have other things to do,” Jeff says, heading back down the aisle the way he’d come. “Night, Harrington.”

“Night,” Steve calls back after him, sounding a bit lighter than when Jeff had found him.

Feeling a little lighter himself, Jeff snags an extra package of Ho Ho’s on the way to the register. He figures he’s earned it.

Part 6

Tag List (Now full, I'm sorry! Drop me a line if you want off the ride): @bushbees @y0urnewstepp4r3nt @gleek4twd @hellfireone @westifer-dead @anne-bennett-cosplayer @starman-jpg @mugloversonly @swimmingbirdrunningrock @alycatavatar @y4r3luv @rhapsodyinalto @vinteraltus @lilpomelito @tillystealeaves @noctxrn-e @pearynice @giverobinagfbrigade @novacorpsrecruit @hotluncheddie @strangersteddierthings @alongcomesaspider @theheadlessphilosopher @jettestar @rajumat @garden-of-gay @jamieweasley13 @dam28lh @oldwitcheshat @lololol-1234 @perfectlysensiblenonsense @salty-h0e @r0binscript @mavernanche @back2beesness @a-lovely-craziness @paintsplatteredandimperfect @redbullgivescaswings @emmabubbles @heartstarstar-blog @thesuninyaface @thatonebisexualman @fruitandbubbles @erinharvelle @m-owo-n @theystoodandplayedwithsilence @surroundedbyconfusion @luthienstormblessed @3ldr1tchang3l @pansexuality-activated

#steddie #steve harrington #jeff stranger things #steve & jeff #steve & corroded coffin #stranger things #sorry this bit's short but it's going to pick up soon!#solar wrote

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osamusriceballs · 7 months

Text

Kinktober Day 27 <3

Ushijima x dirtytalk

Warnings: NSFW, fem reader

Words: ~ 2,3 k

Kinktober Masterlist II -> Next day

"Here, Wakatoshi-kun! Look at this!"

A phone gets shoved into his face, the brightness level way too high for comfort, but he squints to take a look at the screen. A small grunt leaves his lips at the lack of greeting from his red-haired friend, but he chooses to focus on the screen instead.

It's an Instagram post with a picture of him, one taken during the Olympics. He looks at the picture, confused, but then Tendou starts scrolling through the comments

"I'd combust if he called me 'baby' with that deep voice."

"Do you think he's vocal in bed?" Reply: "He doesn't talk much in interviews, so I doubt it." Reply: "What a waste. His voice is so hot."

"LOOK AT HIS ABS *drools*"

"The world is going crazy ever since you said 'baby' in that one interview!" Tendou wildly gestures with his phone still in his hand, his grin almost smug when he elbows Ushijima. A frown appears on the spiker's face as he tries to recall the interview. It was one that he wasn't too fond of, due to the number of personal questions that had been asked. Way too personal questions for his liking.

"Ushijima-san, do you have any plans to start a family soon? When can we expect a baby, a little Ushijima junior?" "Baby?" he had echoed, clearly taken aback by this question, something that the interviewer probably failed to notice, but to the people close to him, it was fairly obvious. The silence after this question lead to speculation on the internet about his relationship status, something that he has kept private so far.

"It wasn't in a sexual way." Ushijima states after skimming through more comments, raising his eyebrows when the messages get more explicit and vulgar. "I was surprised when he asked the question."

"Doesn't matter! The world is going feral now, everybody wants to be Wakatoshi's baby! And even I have to admit that I got butterflies when I heard you say that. Y/n is really lucky~" Tendou hums, mischief clear in his eyes, but Ushijima fails to follow his train of thoughts with this.

"Why is she lucky?"

"Because she gets you to say sweet and dirty things to her all day long. You can't fool me, Wakatoshi-kun; I'm not only your best but also your oldest friend." Tendou winks and strolls ahead, oblivious to the way Wakatoshi is left standing there with a frown on his face, still.

xxxxx

"Y/n?"

You rub your arms dry with a fluffy towel when his voice comes from the other side of the door.

"Hmm?" you hum, smiling excitedly because he is finally back home. "I'll be out in a second."

"Yes, please. We need to talk." You hear him lean against the door frame, clearly waiting for you to come out.

You freeze at his words, eyes growing wide when realization settles in and you fully comprehend his words. "Talk? Talk about what?" you know that you sound shrill and loud, but you can't help yourself but to feel nervous at his serious tone- even more serious than normally.

"About us." Your jaw drops, and you quickly reach for your bathrobe, hastily unfolding the fabric to its full length.

"What do you mean about us? Is there a problem with us?" You finally manage to pull your arms through the fabric, quickly wrapping the fabric along your body before you open the door. You're met with Ushijima's broad chest as he quickly straightens to his full posture. His olive eyes roam over your body, lingering for a short moment on your exposed cleavage before they return back to your face. He looks nervous, there is no other way to put it. "I'm not sure. I think there could might be a problem."

"And what would that be?" You cross your arms in front of your chest, your eyes boring into his face as if you could find answers for his unusual behavior there. You've never seen him like this before. His usual warm eyes are clouded with worry, his hands fidgeting with his phone in his hands. "Toshi? What is it? Please, talk to me." You're tempted to take the phone out of his hands, but you refrain from touching him, not when you don't know what's going on.

"Are you happy with our sex life?" His eyes don't leave your face, not for even the slightest second to see your reaction, and your jaw drops at the sudden question- you expected a lot, but definitely not this.

"I'm- I mean, yes I am? Shouldn't I be? Are you unhappy?" You take a slight step back, creating distance between the two of you, baffled by the sudden implication that he thinks that you're not satisfied. Or that he might not be. Sex with Wakatoshi is great- hard, rough, and passionate. He knows how to fuck you, that is for sure, but he also knows how to be gentle and sweet, how to take care of you and spoil you, especially during aftercare. You lack nothing in your sex life with him- and you hope that he feels the same.

"I am happy. Very. I enjoy sex with you very much much," he states firmly, but that only confuses you more.

"Why are you asking me then? What made you think that I could be unhappy?" You move closer to him, worry etched in your features when you finally take his phone and put it aside to grab his hands.

"Do you want me to talk more? To be more vocal? I saw a video and people kept on commenting how they want me to call them 'baby' and some more things. Would you like that too?" The way he asks nonchalantly like he was just talking about dinner made this even more embarrassing somehow.

"For you to call me 'baby' during sex?"

"Hmm." He nods and looks expectantly at you, his hands squeezing yours while his gaze seems somewhat calmer now that he is convinced that you're satisfied.

"You... you can call me whatever you want. I'm fine with it." You try to sound unbothered and calm, but the slightly shaking note shows how the thought of him calling you "baby" or "his pretty girl" while he thrusts into you does something to you. He nods, hesitating for a second, but then his hands suddenly drop yours to pull you in by the waist, his other hand coming to your chin while he leans down until his lips are close to your ear.

"My baby. Or would you rather be my babygirl?" His honey-like voice almost puts a spell on you, and you find yourself shivering in his arms, thighs involuntarily clenching together. "S-sounds good, Toshi." You bring your hands up to his chest, feeling the hard muscles under his shirt and his slow and steady heartbeat.

"And what would my babygirl like me to do? Does my babygirl want to be touched?" He lowly mumbles against the shell of your ear, your heart now beating faster when his hands start to roam over your body. "Yes," you breathlessly answer, hands slightly clenching into the fabric of his shirt. Definitely not what you had expected as the outcome of the conversation, but vocal Wakatoshi makes your pussy throb with every single word.

"My babygirl needs me to touch her, huh? I will take care of that pretty little princess cunt." He kisses your cheek, and your legs feel like jelly at this point. You cling to him, hanging on every single one of his words. You feel your arousal growing, feel how you start to get wet the more his hands keep touching you.

"More," you whisper, feeling hot and bothered while he keeps on touching you and pressing kisses to your neck. "More? Is my babygirl needy? That pretty princess cunny needs me to touch her?" He lifts the bathrobe just enough to place one hand on your thigh, and you feel like your body is on fire when he touches you there.

"Yes," you gasp, your hands now finding purchase on his shoulders while you cling onto him like your life depends on it. "What does that little princess cunny want? My fingers?" He grazes his fingertips along your thigh, moving dangerously close to your pussy under the bathrobe- bare, and basically creaming for him the longer he keeps playing with your body.

"Or my tongue?" he licks along the column of your neck, and you gasp at his words, the sensation hot and forbidden god. "I want to taste you, baby. You always taste so sweet. Do you want my tongue between your legs? Licking at your pretty pussy?" His fingers reach your throbbing pussy, slightly parting your folds and dipping in your wetness.

"Do it, do it, Toshi, please," you press your legs together around his hand, effectively caging him right where you need it. "Hmm, but you have to cum on my fingers first." He pecks your cheek and pulls his hand away from your legs, just to place it on your hips to guide you towards the bed. "Lay down for me, baby. Open that bathrobe for me."

His baritone echoes through the room, and you feel yourself doing everything like you're in a haze, full of need for him. "Hmm, that's my good girl." He hums apporvingly when you discard the bathrobe on the floor. Your body is trembling in the cool air of the room, but Ushijima is quick to join you on the bed and to hover above you, radiating so much heat that you instantly feel warm.

"Baby, spread your legs for me. Show me everything." You take a deep breath and slowly part your legs, revealing your glistening folds to him. A shiver runs down his body, and he clears his throat before he speaks again, his voice now lower when he is obviously bothered and turned on by the situation. "Look at how wet you are for me. All for me."

You frantically nod, anticipation rushing through your body while you wait for him to touch you. His fingers finally roam over your thighs, and your head falls back into the pillow at the way he touches you, the way he knows exactly where and how to touch you.

"So impatient. I can't wait to be inside of you, to feel you around me." Your gaze falls to the tent in his pants, the thought of him fucking you making your head spin and your pussy throb with need. His fingers move between your legs, moving along your folds and pressing against your clit. You moan at the sensation, your hands fisting the sheets when his thumb prods on your entrance.

"You look so pretty like this. Just waiting for me to touch you, to fuck you. And you feel so good around my fingers." He pushes his thumb inside of you, and you almost close your legs around him. "I will make you feel so good. I will make you cum on my fingers, on my tongue, on my cock." You clench around the digit at his words, your eyes focused on his handsome face while he keeps on rubbing your clit. "More, please more," you whine your body shaking underneath his. "Shhh, I'll give you more. I'll give you what you need, baby." His eyes roam down your body and you almost protest when he pulls his thumb out, just to quickly replace it with three of his fingers. "Oh, Toshi," you whine, your hips arching into him, and you start to fuck yourself on his fingers. He keeps the fast rhythm, pulling his fingers out, and pushing them back inside, curling them pulling them out again. "You feel so good. You're is creaming for me, look at that." His words only add fuel to your desire, and you grab his shoulders to push him down to you to connect your lips in a needy kiss. He groans into your mouth, his movements slowing down for a few moments before he sets his rhythm again, a fast and punishing pace now.

Your nails rake along his bare shoulders, leaving red marks, and he groans at the sensation. "Come on, baby girl. Let me feel you clench around me. Cream on my fingers, make a mess for me," his voice sends you over the edge, and you moan his name when you cum, your walls pulsing and clenching softly around his fingers. He groans your name, sweet praises of how you're his good girl, how pretty you look under him, how much he loves you, leave his lips and your body arches from the bed into his while your face contorts in pure bliss.

He prolongs your high, making sure to keep his pace and to curl his fingers just the right way, and your body goes limp when he finally slows down. His lips meet yours, pressing chaste and loving kisses to your face. "Was that okay?" The slight frown on his face is back, a clear sign of him being deep in thoughts when he pulls back after a few more kisses.

"More than okay. I think I could cum from your voice alone." You smile up at him and cup his cheek, the afterglow making you feel so good while you lay under him.

He raises an eyebrow, curiosity now sparkling in his eyes at your words, and you are quick to explain further. "I- I didn't mean that literally. Like- I just wanted to say that your voice is hot. And you are hot." Your cheeks heat up when he simply nods and hums, a mild smile on his lips.

"I want to test that out. Let's see if I can make you cum with my voice alone, baby."

#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #ushijima #ushijima smut #ushijima x reader #this got longer than I thought it would #I thought the small bit of backstory would be a nice touch #I hope you enjoy this!#just two more days #T.T #I'll probably post Suna's part on friday #and the finale on Sunday #just to let you know! <3 #I just realized how much I'm missing Tendou T.T #I'll probably write something for him soon! <3 #BTW! I am pretty convinced that Ushijima looked up some phrases online beforehand #and he will use baby for an eternity now #But he'll eventually come along and start to use a variety of names and dirty things to say

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ereardon · 3 days

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Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter Ten

A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic

Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child?

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, angst

Chapter summary: Ducky and Jake deal with jealousy; the team meets Bob's new girlfriend

WC: 2.5K

Masterlist here; previous chapter here

The first time it happened, you were at the library desk, sitting down and pouring over a handful of new returns, typing in their serial numbers to check where they were meant to be shelved.

“Excuse me?” You looked up. A guy, probably in his mid twenties, with blindingly white teeth and perfect olive skin, smiled down at you. “Could I ask you a question?”

“Of course.” You pushed away the book and leaned forward on the desk, hands smoothed down over the cold surface. “How can I help you?”

“I’m looking for a book about motorcycle repairs.”

“Sure, I think that would be over in that back left corner.” You pointed one finger.

He grinned. “Care to show me?” There was something flirty about the way he said it and you felt your blood pressure rise.

“Sure.” You stood up and walked around the edge of the desk.

His eyes widened as he looked you up and down. He cleared his throat. “Actually, uh, I’m sure I can find it myself. Thanks.” He was gone before you could even comprehend what had happened.

And then you looked down and realized you could no longer hide it.

***

“Y/N?” Jake’s voice rang out in the apartment. “Honey?”

You emerged around the corner wearing a sweatshirt and a pair of bike shorts with a frown. “What did we talk about?”

He smirked. “Sorry, habit.”

“What do you want?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Just wanted to tell you I’m going out,” he said quietly.

“The bar?”

He hesitated. Then, “Um, No. a date.”

Your heart squeezed. And even though you had said he should date, you hadn’t really meant it. You hadn’t thought he would go through with it. “Oh,” you whispered. “OK. See you later I guess.”

Jake frowned. “Do you, uh, want to come with?”

You cackled. “You’re joking, right?”

“I don’t know what to do here, Y/N,” he sighed. “You seem upset but you told me to date. You practically shoved me out the door. And now I feel guilty leaving you alone.”

“I’ll call Phoenix,” you said, picking up the phone. “I don’t want to go along on whatever slut date you have planned.”

Jake’s face hardened. “Well OK. I guess I’ll see you later.” The sound of the door closing, hard, made you jump.

You collapsed on the couch and pulled out your phone. “Phoenix, it’s Y/N. Listen, do you want to come over?” You paused. “Jake is out on a date.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

***

“He’s a jerk.”

“I told him to go!”

Phoenix yanked her hand out of the popcorn bowl. “Still. Jerk.”

“Was he like this when the two of you were together?”

She closed her eyes for a moment then shook her head. “Yeah, uh, he’s always been like this.”

“Why do you sound so hesitant?”

“Honestly?”

“Hit me.” You pulled your legs up beneath you on the couch and slapped your knees.

“I thought he would be different,” she said quietly. “With you. With the baby. That maybe this was the wakeup call he needed to get his life together.”

“I guess not,” you replied.

“Don’t count him out yet,” Phoenix added, sipping her wine. “He might surprise you.”

Less than an hour later, you and Phoenix both turned as the key in the lock swiveled and the door opened. She looked over at you, wide eyed, as Jake stepped inside alone.

“Trace,” he called out as he stepped into the living room. “Y/N.”

“Hangman,” she said, folding her arms over her chest. “You’re home early. Quickie by the side of the road, no dinner?”

He blushed, a grimace over his handsome and chiseled jawline. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Yup,” she said, tossing one arm over your shoulder. “Right here, watching Desperate Housewives.”

“Natasha,” he said and there was something in his voice. Both of you registered it. A pleading.

She turned to you. “Guess that’s my cue. Call me.” Phoenix stood up, her tanned legs unfolding gracefully. As she crossed the room, her eyes lingered in Jake but his eyes were glued on you. He stood in the middle of the room until the sound of the door shutting rattled the wall.

“How was your date?” you asked.

“I told her about you and she walked out.”

“You’re so dumb.” You shook your head. “Why on earth would you tell her that on a first date?”

Jake rubbed his eyes furiously. “What the hell else am I supposed to say, Y/N? If I want to take a girl back to my place, you’re in the next room. In six months, there will be a baby in a crib in the apartment.”

You stood up. “You’re the one who asked me to move in. Who begged me. And now you’re blaming your shitty sex life on me?”

“I, fuck!” Jake tossed his hands up into the air. His face, normally so composed, was angry. He stepped forward and instinctively your hands fell to your stomach. He stopped, his eyes wide. “Do you think I’m going to hurt you?” he whispered, voice shaking.

“I don’t know,” you replied softly. Was he going to hurt you? Was dating someone else hurting you, even if you said it was fine? Was staying out late, flirting with other women, hurting you?

You’d be lying if you said no.

His green eyes bore into yours. “I’m going to bed.”

“Jake!” You called out after him but he was already halfway down the hallway.

You were frozen in the living room as the sound of his bedroom door shutting filled the apartment. Without thinking, you padded down the hallway and flung open the door to his room. Jake whirled around, his chest bare, wearing just a pair of khakis. “Y/N,” he breathed out. “What are you–?”

“Are you going to hurt me?” you whispered, stepping closer.

“Never.”

“Why did you tell her?” you whispered.

“What?”

“The girl. The date. Why did you tell her about me?”

Jake hesitated. “I told you. If I wanted to bring her home –”

You shook your head, interrupting him. “That’s not the real reason, is it?” You stepped closer, so only a whisper of space was between the two of you.

“Y/N.” Jake’s voice was low and dark, it practically rumbled through your body. “What are you doing?”

“Are you going to hurt me?” you repeated.

“No.”

“Do you want me to see other people?”

“No.” It came out automatically.

“Why not?”

“Because.” His breath was warm and smelled like beer but you knew without a shadow of a doubt he was stone cold sober. “Because you’re carrying my child.”

“That’s it?” you asked. “That’s the only reason.” The room was dark and heady. You could feel your pulse racing.

“You think I want other men touching you?” he whispered. “Putting their hands on your stomach, feeling our baby when I've never even felt our baby move?”

You reached out, taking one of his hands in his, your other hand easing up the edge of your sweatshirt. Jake sucked in a breath at the curve of your lower stomach as you pressed his fingertips below your belly button. In the slim sliver of moonlight, you watched his tanned, large hand hold on. “It’s too early,” you whispered. “To feel anything.” You looked up.

Jake was silent, his eyes glued to your stomach, his fingertips warm against your stretched skin.

“I’m asking you,” you said quietly, “not to hurt me.”

Jake pulled his hand away, but you could still feel the heat of his skin on yours. “That’s the last thing I’m going to do.”

You stepped back. Any closer and you would throw yourself into Jake’s arms. You wanted nothing more than to feel his strong arms wrap around your body, pull you in tightly. Feel the whisper of his lips against yours.

But for your sanity, you stepped back, into the door frame. Let the moonlight slip from Jake’s face until he was plunged into darkness.

“Goodnight,” you whispered.

Even in the darkness, you could picture his frown. “Goodnight.”

***

“Tell me everything.”

Bob blushed and you nudged his arm with your elbow. Across the table, Phoenix grinned. “Tell her, Floyd.”

“Her name is Sena,” he replied quietly. “We met on Hinge.”

You squealed. Across the table, Bradley covered his ears while Phoenix cackled.

Bob patted your hand. “Ducky, please.”

“Tell me more,” you begged.

He dipped his head. “She’s pretty.”

“She’s fucking hot,” Phoenix corrected.

“She’s beautiful,” Bob countered and you watched the way his eyes lit up. “She’s a pharmacist. Her family is from Mexico and she likes to surf.”

“So she’s hot,” you said, leaning back and giggling. “Bobby, I’m happy. Are you happy?”

“I’m happy.”

“Why are we so happy?” Jake slid into the spot next to you on the bench, his thigh grazing yours for a second and you felt a flutter in your stomach. Jitters.

“Bobby here has a girlfriend,” you said proudly.

Jake’s jaw dropped. “Shut up.”

“OK Regina George,” Phoenix countered and the group laughed.

“Bring her around sometime, Floyd,” Jake said. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

You swatted at him playfully. “Don’t tease him.”

Jake caught your hand for a moment mid-air and the two of you paused, your eyes locked. And then Rooster coughed and your hand fell. You turned back to Bob whose blue eyes were watching you carefully.

“Bring her around, though,” you said. “Please, Bobby? I want to meet her.”

He took your hand and squeezed. “OK, Duck. You can meet her.”

***

“A bar, really?” You frowned at the text on your phone. Bob and his new girlfriend were already at The Hard Deck with Phoenix and Coyote. You grunted and tugged at your dress, too tight around the middle. “I look fat,” you muttered to yourself.

“You’re pregnant.” Jake hovered in the doorway and you turned.

“I just look like I ate twelve donuts.”

“You look beautiful.”

“Shut up.”

He shook his head. “No.”

“I should change.”

Jake grinned. “Should I sit down or is it not that kind of show?”

You rolled your eyes. “Wait in the living room, I’ll be five minutes.”

“I grew up with sisters, it’s never five minutes.” His voice trailed off as he meandered down the hallway. Twenty minutes later, you hated that he was right, you emerged in the living room wearing a flowing dress and your hair swept up, a pair of earrings dangling toward your collarbone. Jake stood up and patted down the legs of his jeans. “You look perfect.”

“Are you sure?” you asked nervously. “I can go change, and–”

“Woman.” He stepped forward and grabbed your arm lightly. “No more changing. We’re late as it is.”

“Did you just call me woman?”

Jake opened the door to his truck, shaking his head. “Hop in. Please.”

The ride to the bar was largely silent, punctuated by Jake asking you what radio station you wanted and how you were feeling. By the time you pulled up to the bar, you could sense something was off. “Are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess?”

“What?” He cut the engine.

“You’re acting weird.”

“I’m literally not saying anything.”

“That’s what’s weird!”

“There’s no winning with you, sweetheart.”

“Ugh there you go again with the nicknames.”

“Jesus.” He flung open his door and stomped out. You struggled to chase after him, practically wobbling to catch up with him in the gravel parking lot.

“Jake!” He whipped around as your fingertips closed around his bicep. “What’s the matter with you?”

“You think it’s easy?” he asked. “Seeing you looking like that walking into a place like this?”

You frowned. “I’m pregnant. No one is looking at me.”

“Everyone is looking at you,” he whispered hotly. “You don’t look pregnant at all in that outfit. You look fucking gorgeous and I guarantee that every single guy in there is going to try to buy you a drink.”

“Well I can’t drink,” you spat back. “So unless they want to buy me a ginger ale they can fuck off.”

“I better not see anyone touching you.”

“Well then you better keep your eyes peeled.” You shook your head. “I’m going to find Bobby.”

The bar was crowded and you had to weave your way through sweaty bodies to get to the back. Just as one elbow was about to shoot out and smash you in the face, a hand pulled you back and you felt your back press against a hard chest, Jake’s fingertips smoothing over your side. “Watch out,” he hissed at the guy with the curveball elbow. “You almost hit her in the face.”

“Sorry dude.” The guy barely shifted and Jake shoved him out of the way, using his forearm as a shield to protect you from the masses until the two of you were birthed out of the crowd into the back of the room.

Bob stood up immediately and you stepped closer to him, Jake’s hand falling from your side. “Ducky,” he said and you tossed your arms around his neck, inhaling his familiar scent. “This is Sena. Sena, this is my little sister Y/N.”

She held out one hand. “Hi, so nice to meet you! Bobby has told me so much about you.”

Sena was way cuter than Bob had described. Tall and lithe, with beautiful tanned skin and shiny dark hair that fell past her shoulders with a slight wave. She had a stack of gold bracelets on one arm, and was wearing a pair of shorts and a crop top, a taunt section of skin showing a tattoo curved around her side that you couldn’t quite make out. You grinned. “Nice to meet you, too.”

“Here, sit.” Bob pulled out a chair and you settled in. You turned, expecting Jake to be right behind you, but he disappeared into the crowd. Instead, you shook your head and turned to Sena.

“So tell me everything,” you said and Bob shook his head with a sigh. “Let’s start with your biggest icks about my brother.”

She laughed and you sat and listened as she waxed poetic about Bobby. There was an air about them, you noticed it instantly. The way her hand floated to his thigh, how he would smile at her when she spoke. A spark. Something deep inside of you panged with jealousy, and happiness.

After a while, once the conversation had flipped to Bradley, you swiveled around and squinted. Jake still hadn’t come back to the table. It had been at least forty minutes since the two of you had arrived.

You stood up and Bob looked up, eyes wide. “Have to pee,” you said and he nodded. You weaved through the crowd, now thinning on the edges, toward the long hallway in the back.

But as you rounded the corner, your breath caught.

Jake, with one hand pressed against the wood wall, leaning over a short redhead, her doe eyes trained on him, his free hand tipping her chin up toward him. You watched, mouth agape, as he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.

You turned and fled, before he could see you. Even if it meant peeing your pants. You would pee in the sand, for all you cared. Anything to get away from Jake Seresin in that moment.

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azulock · 7 months

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Oliver + lactation kink + cheating on your husband with this trash fire of a man? mark me in. I wrote this fast so if anything is weird that's why. this is just plotless porn essentially, but while was writing I couldn't help but think of dad!Oliver. maybe I'm gonna write more for this some day

summary. Oliver sometimes has more lust than inteligence, and fucking the pregnant wife of a member of the team's board of directors sure is a stupid move, but he can't leave you hanging when you look this pretty and needy, and if your husband isn't going to step up and give you some relief, he sure as hell will

pairing. Oliver Aiku x F!Reader

wordcount. 1.8k

warnings. nsfw (minors back off) cw: cheating (reader cheating on her husband), lactation kink, pregnancy kink (kinda), piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie

pregnancy needs.

Oliver knew he shouldn't be looking at you the way he did - hungry eyes, blown out with desire - but god, he had poor self control. it was wrong, he knew. you were a married woman. a pregnant one. The pregnant wife of one of his team's officers - some directors board member he only ever spoke to a handful of times. this was stupid, by all means. but it was even more stupid how your husband left you unattended to wait for him during those long ass board meetings.

So who could blame Oliver for staring? you were looking so good, softer features and a plump body, topped with breasts even bigger than they were before. how far along were you again? he'd say five, maybe six months, he wasn't all that sure. but you were already big enough to be clearly noticeable, and fuck, did you make it look good.

You were gorgeous, body filling your dress in the most delicious way. your ass and thighs had gotten fuller too, and Oliver wanted nothing more than to sink his fingers into your soft flesh. ok, maybe he wanted to sink something else in you too. but the desire to just touch you all over only got worse after your pregnancy started showing. you were glowing, and just one look made him want to dig his hands on you and never let go.

Which he sometimes did when he found you alone - sans the never letting go part, sadly, he had his limitations. whenever you were around Oliver stayed training for longer, left after his fellow teammates, always coincidentally finding his way to around where you were. empty locker rooms, far away bathrooms and forgotten storage closets were his best friends. though, when your husband had to travel for business, he always found himself on a different route back home.

Who could deny you after all? he couldn't. everyone knew pregnant women were needy - and they had every right to be, it ain't easy to grow and entire new life inside you. Oliver just couldn't bear the thought of you being left alone and unattended at such a delicate moment. such a cute thing, all plump and glowing, left to fend for herself when she needs support the most, such a cruel thing.

So of course, Oliver had to rectify that. feed your needs and desires, hungry fingers digging deep into your soft ass and thighs, pliable flesh welcoming his touch with a tender warmth. his thirsty lips drank from your mouth, tongue taking whatever you'd give, like he was given a taste of ambrosia and was desperately lapping for more. he held you sat on his lap and enjoyed giving you the treatment you so much needed.

His large hands traveled the expanse of your body, briefly caressing your swollen belly before they reached his favorite part. god, your tits had grown so big, he loved it, loved how soft they felt, so nice to his touch, he couldn't help his need to squeeze them roughly. though, when Oliver sunk his fingers in the plush flesh you whined - a noise that he admits, took a little while for his brain to recognize as pain.

"Oli," you protested, whimpering against his lips before he parted from the kiss to look at you, eyebrows furrowed together.

"What's the matter, pretty thing?" he asks, no longer squeezing your breasts but not letting go of them either. "they hurting?"

"Yeah, be careful," you whine and he just coos in response, gently caressing your heavy breasts. "they are so sore, 's too full of milk."

"Oh, no, no, no," he groans, laying kisses to your clothed breasts between each word. "we can't have that," Oliver adds, voice hoarse with desire and he can't resist giving your tits a soft squeeze, laughing when you whine in response.

God, he feels bad that you are sore, he really does, but you are so sensitive, it's so cute. and your comment about how your breasts are too full of milk only made him harder - something he didn't even think possible at this point. the thought of your beautiful tits spilling milk had his cock throbbing. he had to resist the need to just grope them hard until they left wet spots on your dress. yeah, they did look swollen full, and Oliver couldn't stop his desire to be the one to help you empty them. so he didn't stop it.

"but you know, maybe I could help with that," he says, digging his fingers into the neckline of your dress, pulling one plump breast out and giving it a wet kiss, dual colored eyes looking up at you from under heavy lashes.

You don't protest and Oliver takes that as a green light, kissing his way over your skin, to your enlarged areola, until his lips circled your sensitive nipple. a moan escaped your lips but he could tell it was pleasure so he waited no time to start sucking, one hand massaging your breast gently to coax the milk out. you whimper but don't try to stop him, fingers clutching to his broad shoulders. his opposite hand softly caresses your other breast over the fabric of your tight dress.

He can hear you panting, cock throbbing in his pants as his tongue laps at your nipple. Oliver can faintly taste something, but it's only a trace of what he wants. he tries massaging harder, slowly but surely putting more force on his movements - though, still being careful with your beautiful body. a part of him feels like he is milking you almost like a cow, your swollen breast so large it didn't even fit in his hand. but he was still doing his all to massage it.

When he finally feels your milk spilling into his mouth you both moan at the same time - you in relief and him in pleasure. your sink one hand in his soft hair, fingers treading between the locks as he drinks greedily, savoring the taste. and it's a good thing Oliver is so greedy with anything related to you, because the moment the milk starts spilling, it doesn't slow down - you really were backed up, poor thing. it's like a dam broke down and the more he massages your breast, the more milk flows, some spilling down his lips and trailing the curve of his stubbled chin.

You moan, pant and gasp, voice strained as you just let him drink his fill. meanwhile, Oliver can't stay silent himself, humming and grunting as he sucks and laps at your abused nipple. his cock is bursting, ready to break free from his pants, but he only stops drinking when the milk flow slows down, your soft breast now looking far less swollen. when he looks up, he finds your eyes, bringing you down for a rough kiss, his fingers soon digging inside your panties to find you already soaking wet.

It doesn't take long from there for Oliver to have his cock buried balls deep into your needy pussy, gummy walls sucking him in hungrily. you are so wet, so warm, stretching around his thick length to take the entire thing in down to the base. your soft pussy wraps around him tight, much like how his lips wrap around your other nipple, hand massaging your breast just the way he did to it's twin. while one hand is occupied with that task the other gropes your ass, helping you move up and down his cock.

You are so loud, so needy, almost desperate with the way your pussy clenches around his massive dick. if every pregnant woman is like you, then you are all sex crazed - kinda makes it weird how people view motherhood as this pure thing when it's making you this horny. it doesn't take much for milk to start spilling from your nipple into Oliver's mouth, the sound of your relieved moans mixing with those of your wet pussy. by this point, it's kinda hard to tell who is really milking who in this situation.

He fucks you hard and deep, just the way he knows you like it, all the while drinking up your milk as if he was dying from thirst. the taste of your milk mixed with the feeling of your wet pussy has his cock throbbing and twitching at a desperate rate. it felt too good, too much pleasure overwhelming his senses, between your moans, the way you tugged at his hair and the taste of your milk, Oliver could feel his brain melting. if things kept like this, he wouldn't last very long - no problem, he could always go again, make it a double feature.

Once again, Oliver only stopped sucking the milk from your tit when the flow slowed down. by the end of it his chin and mouth were wet, milk leaked down his neck, it stained his shirt and your dress, but he didn't care. with both hands free now he could move you with more ease, picking up the pace as he moved you up and down in time with his thrusts. soon enough, he was hitting your sweet spot repeatedly until he had you crying his name, gummy walls clenching around his cock as you came.

His name sounded obscene in your lips, and your needy cries sounded so vulnerable, they had his cock twitching, balls feeling tight and full as he grew more desperate. Oliver could feel the heat pooling in his core, his body chasing that pleasure high it wanted so much. you are whimpering from the overstimulation, clinging to him so tight, pulling your body as close to his as your swollen belly would allow.

It doesn't take much for him to snap, the combination of your fingers tugging on his hair, the smell of your body, and your warm walls quivering around him becoming just too much. white takes over Oliver's sight as he pulls you down, hips flush against his, burying his cock balls deep. his orgasm rocks his body, all his muscles clenching as he shot multiple thick ropes of cum inside your pussy, painting your walls white until the thick and sticky liquid started dripping out.

Oh, shit, if he kept going like this he'd be really risking his position in the team. but fuck, you just felt too good. holding your body so close to his, cock still buried inside your pussy, it's like he was in heaven. yeah, he was being stupid, but how could he give this up? if your idiot husband hadn't found out yet, he could keep at it for a little longer. someone gotta keep the pregnant lady satisfied, right? your loser husband clearly wasn't doing that - he never did, and thinking about it now, with how long this had been going, Oliver couldn't even be sure if the baby was his anyway.

#oliver aiku x reader #oliver aiku #oliver aiku smut #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader

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popponn · 8 months

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weekend news, at night. [itoshi sae x reader]

note: while im cooking i will take a break from writing by writing. no warning, use of japanese honorifics, written with post canon in mind but not explicitly said. a fluff, as usual. and am i truly in love with this guy now. writing something with him in mind is a stress reliever. somehow. un beated, not proofreaded.

“Ah! Sae-san!” you swooned, your hands clapping dramatically as you smiled towards the flat, cold expression Itoshi Sae displayed within the TV.

Across you, another Itoshi Sae—the real one, the living one—watched you with an expression that was somehow even flatter. While you did realize the judgmental stare he was giving to you, who sat across him on the dining table, you chose to promptly ignore him. Sae, who had been watching this display for an hour, decided that it was time to question your brain, “What are you doing?”

“Hmm. Fangirling, I think?” you answered whilst propping your chin on your palms. Never once your eyes left the TV on the living room. “Sae-san’s expression there is really good. I like cool guy who is pretty dry.”

At that very moment, Sae truly wondered if you finally snapped. He had heard about the negative effects of overworking and you did sleep for two hours per day for a week. The fact you pretty much went on a full day hibernation yesterday was a testament to that. But then he remembered how you sometimes gets when teasing him and maybe the slight signs of insanity had always been there.

“I’m here,” Sae eventually decided to say.

“I know, Sae. You are,” you replied. You did not spare a glance towards him as you cheered the moment Oliver Aiku entered the screen, “Ah, Aiku-chan, as handsome as always! Oh, isn’t that Isagi-kun in the background? I miss him!”

Sae really wanted to go to bed all of sudden. He didn’t want to deal with you like this on a rare, empty weekend night.

Therefore, with that in mind, Sae closed his tab and stood up. “I’m going to sleep,” he told you before promptly walking to your shared bedroom.

He could only took a few steps before he was suddenly stopped by, hugging him with a cheeky smile staring directly into him. Sae frowned and your grin grew wider. A thin veil of apology laced your words as you wrapped your hands around his back even tighter, “Sorry. Was it to much for you, Sae-san?”

His eyebrows furrowed at the nickname, “Drop it.”

You laughed, then somehow pulled him towards the bedroom whilst walking backwards like a penguin. The sour expression Sae wore didn’t fade, however he followed you nonetheless without making you letting go of him. “Sorry, sorry. Really, this time. But seeing you being that rude while being so cute really refreshed me!”

Hearing your reasoning, Sae didn’t hold back, “Is your brain really okay?”

“Has anyone who overworked for a whole week ever have an okay brain?” you asked back lightly and somehow bitterly. As the two of you approached the door, Sae pushed the tablet he had been holding in one hand towards you.

“Hold it,” he said. Thankfully, you didn’t try anything funny this time, accepting it with one hand whilst draping the other on his shoulder. Sae rested a palm behind your head and opened the bedroom door.

You let out a coo, almost identical to the one you gave to the screen just a few moments ago, “Aw. Sae wants to cuddle with me?”

Sae didn’t even bother to gave you a reply as he closed the bedroom door, the two of still embracing each other while walking to the bed like a pair of actual goddamn penguins kissing each other.

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flowerscentedartist · 1 year

Note

can i be olives valentine??

They say yes

Previous Next

#undertale #undertale au #sans the skeleton #sans #incorrect quotes #send asks #ask #ask olive sans #ask treetale sans #olive #olive sans #Treetale #treetale sans #beware they are a hopeless romantic #prepare to be showered in homemade foods and flowers

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johnwickb1tsch · 3 months

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bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 12 all chapters

- Lunch is a lovely affair in a quaint little trattoria that has been making world class dishes since the turn of the previous century. It seems like every inch of this city is steeped in history. The prices on the menu would blow your whole daily budget on one meal. But the scampi alla Veneziana is out of this world, and you force yourself to eat slowly, and not just inhale the perfectly prepared shrimp and noodles with a delicate lemon olive oil dressing.

John's friend, Julius, is a kind and utterly elegant older man who accepts your presence at the table with kingly grace. They speak in a mixture of Italian and English, the latter you think is for your benefit. John very generously includes you in the conversation, telling Signor Castellari that you are an artist, talking you up to what you feel is an exaggerated degree. Julius asks to see your work, and you let him flip through your new sketch book. Your drawings are a mixture of studies and whimsical travelogue, and it feels like you’re baring a piece of your soul, but he’s so gracious you feel you can’t say no.

There is more than one sketch of Mr. Wick in those pages you did from memory with an aching heart, but the old man is kind enough not to call you out on it, or even draw John’s attention to it. You think if he did, you would simply crawl under the table and die of embarrassment.

He exclaims over an ink and watercolor pencil plein air you did in Rome of a sunset over St. Peters with the Sant’Angelo bridge in the foreground, saying it reminds him of a special day when he was a much younger man. You offer to let him keep it, and he seems truly delighted.

You watch with some surprise as John produces what looks like a razor-sharp knife from seemingly nowhere to carefully cut the page from your book. Julius accepts it like a precious treasure, and you are flattered to your toes.

Then John and Julius chat about older books, and Julius produces a very old looking volume, handing it over for the younger man’s perusal. As he runs his hands over the leather cover John’s eyes shine with an almost childish delight—its utterly adorable.

While they are gushing over the antique tome two intimidating men in dark suits approach the table, fixing John with a hard look. One of them has a gnarly scar bisecting his brow. They say something that sounds none too friendly. You catch the name d’Antonio—but John waves them off with a glare, insisting, “Sono ritrirato.”

You’re pretty sure that means I’m retired.

Julius watches the exchange with a sadness in his eyes you don’t understand.

Finally after some grumbling the tough men go away. John watches them with eyes sharp as a hawk’s, and something in the back of your brain titters a little warning. But you’re having too lovely of a time with Signor Castellari, so you ignore it.

When you part ways Julius kisses your cheeks and takes your hands in his. “Be good to him, bella,” he says with a glance to John. “No one I know deserves happiness more than him.”

You don't want to contradict him about your actual relationship with John, so you just nod.

Later you ask, “Did you tell him we're...”

“No, but even if I told him we weren't, he wouldn't have believed me. Sorry. I hope that didn't make you uncomfortable...”

“It's fine,” you say, not offended in the least.

It’s more than fine.

It's incredibly flattering, really, that he thought the two of you could be a match. You're fairly sure you look like an unsophisticated street urchin next to Mr. John Wick.

“Where would you like to go now?” John asks with a little smile, as though he knows you've been hopelessly turned around for the past two days. You’ve managed to find the big landmarks, like the Piazza San Marco and the Doge’s Palace. It’s the smaller sights that have escaped you.

“Let’s go for a walk,” you suggest, wanting to see the city, and knowing you will finally get to do it unmolested with the forbidding figure of John towering at your side.

You are standing on a bridge, watching gondolas go by, when he asks you, “If I told you I have a reservation at Casa Nova, would you have dinner with me?”

You press your lips nervously. Lunch is one thing, you know, and dinner something else entirely. Two people alone together in an intimate setting, sharing a meal over candlelight with good wine...the thought sends a thrill to the tips of your fingers that’s so intense it’s almost painful.

“I don't have anything to wear to a place like that,” you admit. You read about it in a Condé Nast magazine on the plane, and you’re pretty sure it has at least one Michelin star. “I'm backpacking. My dresses are literally all rolled up in a bundle.”

He chuckles at that, a low sound that tugs at your abdomen. He leans a little closer on the railing, and not for the first time this day you just wish he would kiss you.

“What if...I took you shopping?”

You raise an eyebrow to that. “Are you trying to be my sugar daddy, Mr. Wick?” You mean it as a joke, but suddenly there is something electric in the air between you. John's initial embarrassment sharpens to something almost…predatory.

It catches your breath in your throat.

“Do you want a sugar daddy, y/n?”

You laugh it off nervously, your heart skittering about in your chest.

“Very funny.”

You have a feeling he wasn’t joking at all.

However, like a gentleman he lets you have the out, but doesn't drop the shopping offer.

“Let's go to the Calle Larga,” he says, and out of pure curiosity you agree.

John's idea of shopping is taking you to Gucci.

The impeccable store is filled with beautifully crafted but honestly kind of boring goods, arbitrarily priced at a thousand dollars or more a piece. John fits in perfectly with the smartly dressed clientele, but you? You feel so incredibly out of place amidst the filthy rich people in the shop, and when you look at the price tag on the only dress you vaguely like you think you might break out in hives.

“John...”

You don't recognize it just yet, but you call him John when you're agitated, and Mr. Wick when you're feeling playful.

He senses the desperation in that one word, and he takes you by the hand, leading you outside.

“I'm sorry...” you say, because you feel stupid, and not posh enough by half to pull off any of the clothes in that high-end boutique. You are a bonafide gremlin, compared to the unearthly creatures in there. You do not belong, and maybe you’re a coward, but a part of you wishes John would just let you go back to your own plans for the evening. A long solo walk, a cheap slice of pizza, inevitably get lost in the maze of streets and canals, draw a little or read some of your book, before returning to your hard, lumpy hostel bed alone, where you can’t make a fool of yourself.

“Don't be,” he says with an amused little smile that makes your tide of panic recede a little. “I like it that you know this stuff is bullshit,” he soothes you.

“I just...it’s so out of my wheel house.” You could have paid nearly four months rent for what that dress had cost.

He nods. “It takes some getting used to,” he admits. “I certainly wasn't born into this.”

You wonder if he’ll ever tell you about his earlier life, but sense this isn’t the time or place to press him.

“I just don't want you to spend your hard-earned money on stupid things for me.”

“I’m not saying I didn’t work hard for my money…” he offers with a wan little smile. “But it would make me happy to spend it on you. If it would make you happy.”

You look at him for a long time. He meets your gaze, not flinching. There’s something different about him here. He’s more…open with you, perhaps? It takes some getting used to. He’d never outright admitted his interest in you before, always circling around it, and you wonder what’s changed.

Maybe not even John Wick is immune to the romantic atmosphere of il bel paese.

“Why are you being so good to me?”

“I like you, y/n. If you haven't noticed.” The corner of his mouth quirks at that.

It makes you sigh.

“I like you too, Mr. Wick.”

He makes a small sound in the back of his throat.

“You can call me John.”

“But do you want me to call you John?” you tease.

He moves a fraction closer, looming over you, and for a heart stopping moment you think maybe now he might finally kiss you?

“Depends,” he admits, his voice gone a little rough, but he doesn't elaborate further.

You feel as though you have a live electric wire sparking under your skin.

He steps back a little, and again you feel the loss of him like an ache over your heart. You continue to stroll down the street. You are not entirely sure how your hand ends up in his, only that it is there, and you are content.

None of the high fashion shops really interest you, until you pass by the window of Dolce and Gabbana, and your feet involuntarily slow as you take in the maximalist riot of glitz and color on the mannequin. You've always admired their wildly bedazzled designs, flaming hearts and candy colored jewels with copious gold embroidered trim. Maybe you’re just a crow-brained peasant who’s impressed by shiny things, but they look so fun.

John smiles a little, as though he’s finally answered some question to himself about you. “Aha,” he says teasingly, and you sigh, restraining yourself from pressing your nose to the window like a child outside a candy store.

“Can we just…look?”

You are trying to be reasonable.

“We can.”

As it turns out, you want one of everything in the store.

It's all so over the top, the designs are so artistic and ridiculous and unabashedly joyful, from bejeweled purses to crown-adorned headphones, loud floral dresses and majolica printed silk scarves, and you fight not to betray which pieces catch your eye because you're afraid John might buy them all.

He is drinking in your enjoyment, looking utterly pleased.

Even just the store itself is utterly breathtaking inside, crystal chandeliers, inlaid marble floors and stone pillars. Gilded crown moulding and inlaid wood trim. You could just sit and look at this place like it’s a museum, you reckon.

John is not looking at the building though. He watches you browse with eyes that miss nothing, and it makes you squirm a little. You feel so seen. You’re not sure you like it, like you’ve been caught in the act of enjoying something that you know is absurd.

You feel absolutely silly.

“Try something on,” he urges you. To be practical, you decide to try on a black lace dress. Just in case you might like it. And a pair of black platform wedges printed with crimson red roses…because you can actually walk in them, so it makes sense, you know...

When you exit the dressing room John's gaze darkens, his pupils blown wide with desire, and once again you sense that predatory edge in him. If you had any sense you might have been scared, or at least cautious—but all it does is give you the most exquisite chills, an aching sense of anticipation, and an excess of moisture pooled between your thighs.

“That one,” he confirms, and for the way he looks at you, like you are a bunny in the woods he'd like to eat up whole, the outrageous price of the ensemble seems like a bargain.

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x y/n #john wick x you #keanu reeves x reader #john wick fic #keanu reeves #bittersweet john wick imagine #john wick imagine #i couldn't find julius's last name?#anyone kno?#yandere john wick

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milaisreading · 1 year

Note

Hello, i was just wondering if you could make a fanfic about manger reader who gets cold easily and the players gets into a small fight into who gets to give her their jackets but to only find out, another player from a different team gives her their jacket (for example it could be Sae,Aiku,Kaiser, ect)

Author: here ya go~ hope you like this and thank you for the request! Have a great day🩷

Warnings ⚠️: reader uses she/her. Requests are open

⚽️Blue lock belongs to:Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

"Acho!" (Y/n) sneezed as quietly as possible while packing up everything. The Blue Lock had a practice match with Japan's U-20 team. After the defeat, they all oddly enough became a lot closer, minus Sendo and Oliver, (Y/n) would say she had a pretty decent relationship with everyone. Sendo was just too full of himself for her liking and Oliver... well he was nicer, but obnoxious at times.

"Acho!" Another sneeze caught the attention of Rin and Bachira, who immediately walked up to her, concerned with her health.

"Are you alright, (Y/n)?" Bachira asked as the girl sneezed on more time before nodding her head.

"Yeah, it's just so cold today."

"Cold? I don't know, it's a lot warmer than yesterday." Rin raised an eyebrow.

"Is everything alright?" Isagi asked as he approached the trio. Baro raised his eyebrow when he saw the girl rub her arms.

"Everything is alright... it's just that I get cold easily. Let's just finish packing up before Ego-san gets mad." (Y/n) said, not really seeing a big deal in the statement. The four looked at her as she walked away and then at each other.

"Soo..." Isagi started.

"Yeah..." Bachira added as Rin sent them both a glare.

"Don't even think about it, you two."

"But she will freeze!" Bachira protested.

"How cruel of you. I will just give her my jacket." Baro sighed as he started taking off the said clothing item, but Rin stopped him.

"No, I will do it as the captain, it's my job to make sure my-"

"Our!"

"-manager is warm and healthy." Run finished, ignoring Isagi's previous comment.

"First of all, she is our manager. 2nd of all my jacket is a better option, it smells nicer." Isagi said as Baro sent him a side glare.

"Yours?! Mine smells better and is way softer."

As the two started bickering, Bachira tried to sneak away to where (Y/n) was, but Rin grabbed him by his arm.

"Is there an issue, captain?" Bachira asked in a condescending tone, pissing Rin even more off.

"Don't even think about it."

"Or what?"

"I will squish you, midget."

Now all four were arguing, catching Hiori and Karasu's attention.

"I feel like Ego-san will give us all a huge punishment once we get back." Karasu groaned.

"What are they arguing over now? And why did you take your jacket off, Yukimiya?" Hiori asked, both turning their attention to the boy.

"Didn't you hear? Our dear manager is cold, I think I should do the noble thing and give her my jacket."

Karasu and Hiori stopped for a moment and blinked at Yukimiya, then tackled the boy to the ground before he could get away.

"Hey! Hands off!"

"No way! My jacket is the perfect size for (Y/n)!" Hiori protested as Karasu laughed.

"Move it you both, the only jacket (Y/n) will be wearing is mine."

Meanwhile Reo, Nagi and Chigiri were right by (Y/n)'s said, having found out she was cold and were trying to get her to pick their jackets.

"Take mine (Y/n)! I am not even cold at all. I can always run and heat up my body." Chigiri argued, trying to put his jacket around (Y/n).

"No way, mine is bigger and will give you more heat, just take mine (Y/n)." Nagi said softly.

"Please you two, I can handle the cold-"

"No no, just take mine (Y/n). We Can't have you cold. Mine is very soft." Reo added with a blush.

"No thank you, you guys are the players. Having you out with a fever is worse-" (Y/n) tried to argue but Chigiri interrupted her.

"Move it, rich boy. I offered first."

"Shut it, princess."

"You all are annoying, just take mine."

Moving away as the three started arguing, (Y/n) looked at the other guys, who either were glaring or arguing.

'Where is Teieri-san?!' She thought and went to look for the woman.

"I think my jacket would look cuter on (Y/n), just imagine an oversized jacket on her." Otoya sighed as him, Aryu, Kurona, Gagamaru and Niko were sitting in a circle.

"True... but so will my jacket fit. She always says she finds my clothes nice." Kurona added with a small blush.

"I think mine would look cuter on her, since we already had her use it as a blanket. It was so adorable~" Aryu chimed in, playing with his hair. The statement earned him a nudge from Gagamaru.

"We all have the same jackets, mine would fit too... I wonder where (Y/n) went." Gagamaru added in, holding onto the hem of his Blue Lock jacket.

"I don't think yours would be the best, she would look much better in a smaller version." Niko said as he crossed his arms. The four were about to argue as well, if it wasn't for Ego and Anri appearing and silencing the guys.

'Shit!' They thought, noticing their glares.

"Here. I heard you are cold." Sae said as he put his jacket around (Y/n).

"I really don't think-"

"It's nothing, you can wear it and Rin can return it to me." Sae said as (Y/n) simply nodded her head and thanked the pro-player.

"Your is really soft."

She commented as the boy blushed, nodding his head.

"Sae, you little piece of shit! Stealing my girl like that!"

"Shut it, Aiku!" The two yelled at the captain, embarrassed and annoyed.

"Rin, I will beat your brother up." Baro commented as Rin rolled his eyes, both witnessing what the redhead did.

"Not before I do."

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lostloveletters · 5 months

Text

One of Those Nights (Sonny Corleone x Reader)

Summary: You’re Sonny and Sandra’s go-to babysitter, and when Sandra’s out of town for the weekend, Sonny needs all the help he can get.

Note: College-aged female reader, but no other descriptors are used. I listened to Donna Summer while writing this lol. Anyway, my first Godfather reader-insert fic! Do not interact if you're under 18, a terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Implied age gap, power imbalance, cheating. Sexually explicit content involving unprotected sex and Sonny's canonically huge cock. A little bit of praise kink. Do not interact if you're under 18.

Your eyes fluttered open from your half-asleep stupor at the sound of the front door’s locks clicking. Sitting up on the couch, you quickly smoothed out your blouse and skirt. You just barely made it into the kitchen when Sonny got in.

“Sorry I’m back so late. I wanted to be home to put the kids to bed—“

You shook your head, smiling. “It’s fine, Mr. Corleone. Frank and the twins are already asleep. There’s some sausage with peppers and onions in the icebox if you haven’t eaten. I can heat it up quick on the stove for you.”

“Jesus, you’re already doin’ us a favor staying the weekend while Sandra’s outta town,” he said, shedding his tie and undoing the first few buttons of his shirt. “And how many times do I gotta tell you, you can call me Sonny.” He playfully pinched your cheek. “I’m not that old yet, am I?”

“No,” you giggled. “Sorry, Sonny.”

The kitchen's layout was almost second-nature to you at that point, having done plenty of cooking for Sonny and Sandra's sweet kids when you babysat them. You grabbed a frying pan, setting it on the stovetop and pouring in a few drops of olive oil before turning on the flame. By the time you got the plate you saved for Sonny out of the refrigerator, the oil was sizzling, and the scent of sweet peppers and onions filled the kitchen again when you’d scraped the contents of the plate into the pan.

Sonny was quiet behind you, save for him tapping his freshly lit cigarette against the porcelain ashtray on the kitchen table. You knew the sound well. His gaze burned through your back to your rapidly beating heart as you became increasingly aware that you were alone with him, the man who you lusted after in quiet guilt, because he was married and you were his children’s babysitter, for Christsake.

After a few minutes, the sausage with peppers and onions appeared thoroughly reheated, and you transferred the meal back onto the plate. You grabbed a nearby loaf of crusty bread, cutting a piece for him and placing it with the rest of the food.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Sonny said, grabbing the plate from the counter.

“Anytime.”

You returned to the living room, tuning the radio to the station that was broadcasting Lights Out, a late night horror show that always sucked you in no matter how hard you tried to remind yourself it was only a radio story. At least it’d get your mind off of Sonny, out of the gutter–or into a different one at least. You sat on the couch, fidgeting with your hands as you let yourself get lost in the host’s voice as he told the latest tale of terror.

You nearly screamed when Sonny appeared in the living room with his plate of food and asked, “You listen to this garbage?”

“It usually scares me into staying awake.”

He snickered to himself, taking the spot on the couch next to you. “For what?”

“My roommates and I play it in the dorm during finals to keep us up when coffee doesn’t cut it.”

“How’s college goin’ anyway? Straight As, right?”

“I made the dean’s list last semester.”

He shook his head. “Smart and beautiful, whatever lucky guy ends up with you is gonna have his hands full.” He glanced at your chest, his eyes lingering on your breasts for a moment before going back to his food. “Your cooking might be a little better than San’s. Don’t tell her I said that.”

You smiled, keening at his compliment. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“You didn’t have to stay up for me, you know.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

“Why’s that?”

You faltered. “I just wanted to see you.”

He smiled, amused by your answer. “You’re sweet. Gonna give me a toothache if you keep that up.”

“Is that so bad?”

Sonny shook his head as he set his plate down on the coffee table. “‘Course not.” He got up to turn the radio off, the sound of his voice engulfing you in a warm haze, “Don’t get a chance to be alone with you enough.” He placed his hand on your knee when he sat back down, rubbing his thumb against your stocking-clad leg, the feeling frustratingly electric as the thin fabric was all that lay between the skin-on-skin contact you craved from him.

Your lips parted, trying to conjure up a response, but only managing a shaky breath and a weak nod of agreement.

“We don’t gotta do anything you don’t wanna do, doll,” he whispered, his voice low.

“I want you, Sonny,” you assured him.

He kissed you with a passion you swore only existed in movies, not the hesitant or sloppy handling you’d experienced from past boyfriends, but the certainty of a man who knew exactly what he wanted. Heat rushed over your skin at the confirmation that he wanted you, his hands on your body, sliding up your skirt as he grabbed your ass, pulling you closer to him so that you were practically straddling his lap. You steadied yourself on his biceps, giving them a squeeze, letting yourself feel him, acknowledge your desire for him that had been latent until then.

You moaned into his mouth, his tongue capturing the sound, claiming your expression of desire as his. And who else would it be for? You’d always found him handsome and charismatic, always were a bit too curious about what was behind each vaguely flirtatious comment or sly wink he’d send your way when no one else was looking.

“Sonny, where–where should we–”

“We can do it out here, but you gotta be quiet. You can do that for me, right?”

You nodded eagerly.

Hunger glistened in his dark eyes as he smiled wolfishly. “Attagirl.”

A whimper escaped your lips at his praise, the way he made you feel naked with just his gaze. You unbuttoned your blouse, letting it slip from your arms and tossing it aside onto the floor. Sonny pulled you onto his lap, burying his face in the crook of your neck while he kneaded your breasts through your bra. Soon, that wasn’t enough, and he pulled them from the cups, his hands on your soft skin as he squeezed. His thumbs brushed over your nipples. You gasped. You wanted his hands on you like that all the time, had imagined–secretly hoped, even–that he’d do it one day while you were in the kitchen or in the narrow hallway to the bedrooms, that he’d grope you, kiss you, do something to make you stop feeling so crazy about him. In that moment you realized getting what you wished for only made you want him more.

His lips burned deliciously against your skin, and you groaned at the gentle bites he left on your neck and shoulders. You rocked your hips against his, feeling his hard cock straining through his pants, desperate for more friction against your pussy.

“You feel that? You feel what you do to me?” he murmured against your tender skin.

“I need you,” you whined. “Please, Sonny.”

“Alright, doll. Lay back for me, alright?”

You did as he asked, shifting off of his lap to lie back on the couch. You watched intently, hungrily, as he unbuckled his belt, pulling his cock free from his pants, slowly pumping his length in his hand. You nearly choked. Sandra had made jokes about Sonny’s size before, ones that made your face heat up in embarrassment at her talking so crudely about him, but you’d always thought she was exaggerating.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, silently wondering if he could even fit inside you, an almost morbid curiosity only further fueling your desire.

A tender concern spread across his face as he searched yours for any sign of hesitation. “You sure you’re alright with this?”

You nodded. “I’ve wanted you in a bad way for so long.”

“How bad?” he asked, his voice husky and low.

Your lips nearly touched his as you whispered your answer. “Shameful.”

He kissed you again, this time with an intensity that nearly knocked the wind out of you. His fingers dug into the waistband of your panties and stockings, pulling them down so you could kick them off, ending up with one leg hanging off of the couch, exposing your wet pussy for him. You buried your fingers into his hair, the kiss desperate and wanton, your mouth open for him in a soft gasp as his pushed his tip inside you.

It wasn’t enough, the primal part of your brain screamed. You needed more. Digging your nails into his scalp, you lifted your hips, taking more of him in you.

“Don’t hold back, Sonny. I can take it,” you said.

He licked his lips, staring at you for a split second before determining you meant what you said. He filled you, your pussy clenching around his cock as he thrust into you, finding a rhythm that would’ve been painful if you weren’t already wet for him.

“Y’know, I used to get off thinkin’ about this,” he grunted, “bending you over the kitchen counter or up against the bathroom door.”

“Sonny–I–”

“You know how long I’ve wanted you? Now I’ve got my pretty college girl coming apart for me.”

“Oh my god–fuck–Sonny–” Your heart was pounding in your ears, eyes struggling to stay open as his thrusts became deeper, more erratic. He was close, his cock twitching inside you, hitting that spot you’d only ever reached with your fingers before. No faking it, no having to do the heavy lifting yourself.

He had to put his hand over your mouth when it hit you, white hot pleasure bursting in your brain, pulsing through your pussy as you grabbed at him, digging your fingers into his arms to ground yourself, feeling as though you’d lose control of your body otherwise. Your moans were muffled, incoherent nonsense as he fucked you through your climax to reach his. With another hard thrust, he came inside you. Overwhelmed by the sensation, your hips bucked and your pussy clenched hard around him, milking his cock as he came.

“Look at you, takin’ it all–fuck–” Sonny hissed out through gritted teeth, trying to maintain what little self-control he had as to not make too much noise. “So fuckin’ good for me–”

You whined at that, your overstimulated, fucked-out brain going into overdrive. You wanted to be good for him. You were good for him.

You weren’t sure when it got so still, so quiet, but the only sound in the room was your and Sonny’s heavy breathing. He pulled out of you, your pussy feeling achingly empty. You looked at the ceiling, mildly aware of Sonny staring at you.

“How're you feeling? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked.

“I’ll be lucky if I can walk tomorrow,” you said breathlessly. “But that was great. Really I–I don’t know what else to say.”

He caressed your cheek, bringing your attention back to him. “I’m gonna get you a towel, alright, sweetheart?”

You nodded, smiling a bit when he kissed your forehead before disappearing down the hall to the bathroom. And there were still two whole days left before Sandra got back. You smiled wider.

#sonny corleone x reader #sonny corleone #the godfather #the godfather x reader #the godfather imagine #the godfather fanfic #sonny corleone imagine #sonny corleone fanfic

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50calmadeuce · 2 months

Text

Ch. 16: To San Diego

Warning: Mention of miscarriage. Some chapters have sex.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know. :)

Gradually awakening, you found yourself in an unfamiliar queen-size bed, the sound of a shower running nearby gently rousing you. You wore an olive green tank top and light weight olive green and black sleeping pants. As you slowly sat up, you took in the surroundings. The room had white walls adorned with a few pictures resting on a well-worn dresser. The only items that seemed new in the space were the bedding and pillows on the bed.

You let out a sigh, realizing this simple setting was reflective of how your husband had been living for years as a pilot. In stark contrast, your own living conditions could be considered luxurious. With a sense of newfound appreciation and a bit of guilt, you tossed the duvet aside, swung your legs over the side of the bed, and placed your feet on the floor, just as the sound of the shower ceased.

Moments later, the bathroom door swung open, and Jake stepped out, a towel wrapped around his waist, his dog tags dangling over his muscular chest. Steam billowed out behind him, enveloping him like a cloud, creating an almost ethereal sight. You found yourself looking at him with fresh eyes, seeing him in a new light that melded the familiarity of your husband with the stark realities of his profession and lifestyle.

"Morning," Jake greeted, his voice warm. "I didn't wake you, did I?" he asked, concern tinting his words as he made his way toward the closet.

You shook your head in response. "No, it was the unfamiliarity that did," you answered, your gaze following him as he reached for his flight suit hanging among the other items in the closet.

He turned to face you, his green eyes sparkling with a lively intensity. Even in his disheveled state, he had an undeniable allure that could send shivers down your spine.

"Good. We did get in pretty late, and you looked so peaceful sleeping that I didn't want to disturb you," he explained, moving towards his dresser to fetch his underwear, T-shirt, and socks. As he spoke, he let the towel around his waist drop to the floor.

Feeling an unexpected wave of embarrassment, you turned away to afford him some privacy. The reason behind this sudden modesty with your own husband puzzled you, yet you could hear him getting dressed behind you.

"I'm going to go make some coffee," you announced, seeking an escape to compose yourself. With that, you headed out the door towards the kitchen.

The kitchen and living area were compact, resembling a modest kitchenette. There was a small couch, a TV, and a petite dining table accompanied by two chairs, all arranged to fit within the limited space efficiently.

You started opening up cabinets to look for some coffee, but there wasn't much.

A few minutes later, Jake emerged from the bedroom, his hair neatly combed and dressed in his flight suit, perfectly embodying the image of a pilot.

"Don't worry. I'll grab some at the base," he said initially, then paused, reconsidering his words. Realizing the coffee was meant for both of you, he added, "I'm sorry. I don't have much here."

You turned to face him, offering a reassuring smile. "It's no problem. I'll get a rental car and tour the city today."

He closed the distance between you, concern evident in his eyes. "You sure?"

You nodded affirmatively. "Yeah, I'll be fine." Your gaze swept across the confines of the small apartment.

"I know it's not like the lodge," he began, acknowledging the stark difference in your accommodations.

You reached up, gently cupping his face with your hand, a tender gesture that sought to bridge any distance between you. "Has it always been like this? Why didn't you say something?" Your voice carried a mix of concern and curiosity, wanting to understand his experiences and the choices he made to live this way.

He leaned slightly into your touch, his expression softening with a hint of resignation. "I'm a Naval Aviator. I'm not here much. And when I get deployed, it's less for me to worry about," he explained, his words revealing a pragmatic acceptance of his lifestyle, dictated by the demands of his profession.

Just then, a knock sounded at the door. He gave you a quick kiss on the lips before he turned to answer it, moving with a sense of purpose towards the door to see who was on the other side.

He opened the door, revealing a tall African American gentleman on the other side. "It's about time you came back," the man greeted, his voice carrying a warm, familiar tone. They exchanged a brief, hearty "man" hug, a gesture that spoke volumes of their close relationship. After the greeting, the man's gaze shifted towards you, his eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and friendliness.

The man approached you with his hand extended, a friendly smile on his face. "So, you're the famous Doctor Seresin that I knew nothing about. I'm your husband's best friend, Javy 'Coyote' Machado. You can just call me Coyote." His introduction was warm and inviting, clearly indicating the close bond he shared with your husband.

You took Coyote's hand, his grip firm and reassuring, the kind that spoke volumes of his character without the need for many words. "If it makes you feel any better, Jake has never mentioned you either," you said, returning his smile with one of your own, your curiosity about the man before you piqued by the familiarity in his demeanor.

Coyote's laughter was hearty and genuine, the sound filling the space between you with an ease that spoke of his good nature. "Well, I suppose that makes us even then," he said, his smile broadening. "Jake's always been more of the strong, silent type, but don't let that fool you. There's a lot more to him beneath the surface, as I'm sure you're well aware."

His observation struck a chord with you, acknowledging the depth you had come to know and love in Jake. "Absolutely. Every day with him brings something new," you agreed, your thoughts momentarily drifting to the complex layers of your husband's character.

Coyote nodded, his expression turning thoughtful, as if reminiscing about past experiences shared with Jake. "He's one of the best men I've had the honor to serve with, and trust me, I don't say that lightly. Jake's saved my hide more times than I care to admit, and I'd do the same for him in a heartbeat."

The sincerity in Coyote's voice added weight to his words, offering you a glimpse into the unbreakable bond formed in the crucible of their shared service. It was a world apart from your own experiences, yet in that moment, you felt a profound connection to it through Jake and now, Coyote.

"Sounds like you two have been through a lot together," you commented, appreciating the depth of their friendship even more.

Coyote looked at his watch and then at Jake. "We've got to get going."

Jake nodded in agreement with Coyote's reminder of their schedule. He then made his way to the coffee table, where a notebook lay open. After jotting down a note, he carefully tore out the page and handed it to you. "If you need anything or get bored, just go here," he said, ensuring you had a point of reference or a suggestion for how to spend your day while he was away.

"The Hard Deck?" you questioned, looking at the note with curiosity.

"Yes, the owner's name is Penny Benjamin. I texted her and let her know you were here. She's my Captain's girlfriend," Jake explained, providing you with a bit of context and ensuring you'd have a friendly contact in the area. It seemed like a thoughtful gesture, connecting you with someone who could offer both company and assistance during your stay.

With a casual shrug, you accepted the plan. Jake then leaned in for a kiss, a tender moment shared between the two of you. "I love you, and I'll let you know what's going on," he assured you, his words wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

"Love you too," you responded, the affection in your voice clear and unwavering. Watching Jake and Coyote leave, you turned your attention back to the piece of paper he'd given you. After a brief moment of contemplation, you placed it on the small table, a symbol of potential adventures or solace for the day ahead. With a deep breath, you then headed to the bathroom to prepare for whatever the day might bring.

You managed to arrange for a rental car to be delivered to Jake's apartment. Once it was there, you took it to do some grocery shopping, ensuring his apartment had food during your stay. After stocking up, you glanced at your watch and noticed it was only noon. With a sigh, you slumped onto his couch, feeling a bit lost in a city unfamiliar to you, wondering what to do with your time while Jake was busy at work.

You turned your gaze to the piece of paper resting on the small table behind you. Recalling the name written on it, you swiftly entered it into your phone, eager to find out what it was and where it could be found.

After reading the details, you pressed the directions button and discovered it was just a ten-minute drive away—and even better, it was located on the beach. Shrugging to yourself with a "why not?" attitude, you picked up the rental car keys and made your way out the door.

You pushed open the door to the Hard Deck and cautiously stepped inside. Behind the bar, an older man looked up.

"We're actually closed right now," he informed you kindly, his voice carrying a hint of an Irish accent. "We don't open until three."

"I understand, I'm sorry for the intrusion. My husband mentioned that if I ever needed anything, I should come here," you replied.

He looked at you with piercing blue eyes. "You must be Jake's wife."

With a slight nod, you tucked your hands into the back pockets of your shorts. "Yes, I am."

"Alright then, I'll fetch Penny for you. She's currently in the cooler taking stock of our inventory." With that, he turned and made his way toward a set of double doors.

Left by yourself, you wandered closer to the bar, taking the opportunity to admire the establishment's decor. Near the bar, a piano was positioned, its presence suggesting nights filled with music. Not too far from it, a jukebox stood, ready to fill the room with selected tunes. Hanging above the bar, model planes dangled, adding a unique touch of character to the ambiance.

The sound of the double doors opening caught your attention, and a slender brunette emerged, clad in an olive green button-up shirt and black jeans.

"Hi there! You must be Y/N?" she inquired with a welcoming tone.

"I am," you confirmed.

Pausing, she scrutinized you for a moment. "Well, I guess it all makes sense now," she remarked.

Puzzled, you inquired, "What does?"

"Why Hangman never seemed attracted to any other woman."

A smile crossed your face.

"Have a seat, please," she motioned towards a barstool. "My name's Penny," she introduced herself, extending her hand across the bar.

You took the offered hand, noting the warmth and firmness of Penny's grip—a welcoming gesture that made you feel instantly at ease. "Nice to meet you, Penny."

"Finding out Hangman was married really took me by surprise. He was always so reserved about his personal life."

"That seems to be the consensus."

"You're a doctor, aren't you?"

"Yes, I'm a Doctor of Veterinary Medicine. I specialize as a veterinarian for large animals."

"That's really impressive! How did you decide to pursue that field?"

You shrugged. "I've always been drawn to larger animals. Don't get me wrong, I am still trained for dogs and cats."

Penny glanced in your direction. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Just water for me, thanks."

Acknowledging your request, Penny reached behind the bar, selected a glass, then filled it with ice and water before setting it down in front of you, ensuring a coaster was beneath it.

"If you don't mind sharing, how did you come across Hangman?"

You took a sip of your water. "We actually met in a bar while I was attending a class in Austin, Texas. He had just completed his time at the Naval Academy and was back home for a few weeks. We connected instantly and ended up getting married after just a week and a half."

"I'd say I never saw Hangman as a quick decision maker, but that would be incorrect. He saved my boyfriend."

"Your boyfriend is the plane he saved. He told me about that."

"So, why didn't he tell us about you?"

You met her gaze and inhaled deeply. "Not long after we married, I discovered I was pregnant. But three months in, a horse kicked me in the stomach, and I miscarried. He urged me to give up my veterinary practice, leading to a major argument between us. We drifted apart after that, each of us burying ourselves in our work. Just last week, he suddenly decided he wanted to return to Wisconsin. I'm not sure what prompted the change."

Penny expressed her condolences with a sorrowful tone. "I'm sorry to hear about your loss."

"Thank you. It's something we've been working through together over the past week."

"The idea of divorce or separation never crossed your mind?"

"I can't say the thought of divorce never entered my mind, but whenever it did, I would glance at our wedding photo and remember the joyful moments. I had seen Jake at his happiest, yet I had never witnessed him in pain. I suppose the loss of our baby was that moment of pain for him. I couldn't blame him for feeling that way. I was dealing with it too."

Penny nodded, showing a sign of understanding. "He's quite fortunate, indeed. And here I was, thinking he was untamable by anyone."

You couldn't help but chuckle at Penny's comment, recognizing the mix of admiration and jest in her voice. "Well, I guess we all meet our match at some point, right?" you said, taking another sip of your water, the crispness of the drink a perfect match for the warmth of the conversation.

Penny laughed in agreement, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "That's very true. It's always the ones you least expect that end up surprising you the most," she added, her gaze briefly drifting as if reflecting on personal experiences.

The conversation flowed easily from there, with Penny sharing tidbits about the local area and you offering snippets of your own life and career. Despite the differences in your backgrounds, you found common ground in shared values and the occasional challenges of dealing with strong personalities, whether in a professional setting or personal relationships.

Penny glanced at her watch. "Wow, time really does fly when you're enjoying yourself. I need to go pick up my daughter from school. Feel free to stay as long as you like. Jake gave me your number, so I'll text you mine just in case you decide to head out." She swiftly pulled out her phone and sent a text, with your phone chiming shortly after. "If you need anything at all, just let me know."

You checked your phone, saving her contact details. "Thanks, Penny."

"I'll see you later," she said, rushing out the door.

After Penny left, your phone rang. You glanced at the caller ID and saw it was Jake. "Hey," you answered, a hint of surprise in your voice.

"Hey, darlin'. Where are you?" Jake's voice came through, sounding eager.

"I'm perched on a stool at The Hard Deck," you informed him, the background noise of the bar faintly audible.

"Great. I'll be there in a few minutes, so stay put," he replied, a tone of anticipation in his voice.

"I might head down to the beach," you mentioned, gazing out towards the sea visible from your vantage point.

"Alright. I'll find you there in a few," he assured.

The line went dead as you processed the swift exchange, pondering the imminent reunion.

Tags: @buckysteveloki-me @bellyliveslife @tgmreader @callsign-barbell @86laura11 @dizzybee03 @kmc1989 @guacam011y @nerdgirljen @hookslove1592 @dempy @djs8891

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x you #glen powell #hangman top gun #hangman #top gun maverick hangman #hangman fanfic #top gun fanfic #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin fic #jake seresin #jake seresin fic #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake hangman fic #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman x you

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ilylovelyz · 9 months

Note

Happy birthday ushi 🎉🎂🥳😘🎈🎁!!!

⍣ ೋ dreams come true

˚ · . ushijima x afab!reader

: ̗̀➛ fluff, unknown mutual pining, plot twist at the end (?), just cuteness for my boy wakatoshi's bday ʚ❤︎ɞ , this was kinda shit haha

even tiny love i've cherished (you make me feel so good)

you walked slowly throughout the hallways, almost hesitantly, your hand behind your back, cheeks tingling slightly with excitement and nervousness.

you inhaled deeply, lightly pouting at the way you were such a nervous wreck, even though what you were about to do was normal for friends. hah, friends.

finding the courage, you sped up your steps when you saw the classroom that your friend was in, taking a moment to take a deep breath before you opened the sliding door.

you smiled lightly, finding comfort in seeing your dear friend. "happy birthday wakatoshi-san.." you meekly muttered, walking over to his desk, to where he was sitting at. he looked up at you with his stoic face, olive eyes watching as you approached.

you looked around quickly, noticing that it was just you and him and a few other random classmates. "w-where is satori-san?" you asked, a little nervous at the idea of it just being you and ushijima.

"he left to go get a drink. he'll be back soon," he said, his attention on you as he waited for you to say something. you always guided him in the conversations, not that he didn't want to talk to you, he just didn't know what to say sometimes. he's rather a listener than a speaker.

"say, are you doing anything for your birthday?" you asked. "i don't know yet, might not do anything." he replied, his hands coming up to his notebook, closing it. oh, what a bummer. "oh, that must suck, haha. did anyone buy you gifts? or are you going to get gifts?"

"i think my team is planning something, they are acting a bit suspicious." he raised a slight eyebrow, surprising you with his words, he caught on? "m-maybe you're just being paranoid, haha, don't think too much about it!" you stammered, lightly chuckling at his straightforwardness. his team, are in fact, planning something for his birthday.

"maybe." he said, a rare light smile coming up to his face. you couldn't help but grin at him, you love it when he smiles. you've known him since freshman year, and yet you can count on your hand how many times you've seen him smile.

"ah, y'know 'toshi, i have a lil' something for you." you said, biting on your lower lip excitedly. "what is it?" he asked, lightly cocking his head to the side. you were quick to whip out his birthday gift, wrapped neatly, with a cute purple bow on the side, "ta-da!" you cheekily grinned, giggling a little at your awkwardness.

you could almost hear his thoughts as you placed the gift into his hands, a gift? "please, it's your birthday! don't be so lame, 'toshi." you spewed, one of your hands coming up to playfully slap at his broad shoulder.

"do you want me to open it?" he asked, emitting a playful scoff from you, "why are you asking me? it's your gift! open it whenever you want."

jeez, this guy can be so dense, you pouted. though, your pouting quickly turned into a shy grin, so adorable. for some reason, your stomach dropped when his hands fumbled with the string of the present, working to untie and open it, in front of you.

you trembled nervously, your eyebrows furrowed greatly as you chewed on your lip, hands clenching at the material of your skirt. "i wanted to get you something, b-but i didn't know what, but i saw it so.." you said, trailing off when he brought his revealed gift closer to his face to observe it.

a keychain, a little volleyball with two black dots as eyes, and two arms and legs. he looked back into the gift-bag, which had other items such as cookies and little things. it surprised you when he was still observing the keychain, fiddling it in-between his thick fingers.

you jolted up when he sat up once more, keychain still in his hand. from the way he was staring at you blankly, you thought he was going to like, throw it at you or something.

"thank you, i appreciate your gift." he said, sitting the keychain upright on his desk, eyebrow raising slightly when it stood up on it's own. "you like it?" you smiled, leaning a little towards his desk.

he smiled at you softly once more. "yes, i like it. thank you." you softly blushed at his words, the praise and acceptance feeling the best to you, but the moment was short lived when the 5-minute bell rang, interrupting the sweet moment.

"aw.." you groaned out, slumping over in your seat. you then stood up, stretching a little before turning to face the doorway. "i'll see you later." he said, low eyes looking you straight in the eyes.

you grinned once more at him, his words sounding more like a demand, rather than a request. "see you later, 'toshi."

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

"that was fun, we should do it again," satori said, cheeks flushed intensely from all of the alcohol he consumed that night, leaning weakly against the wall of the outside doorway.

keys crinkled, metal on metal scraping against each other as ushijima worked the lock, twisting and turning the key until he heard a click. "ushiwaka, you still have that keychain?" satori purred, leaning in closer to ushijima, eyeing the familiar keychain.

opening the door, ushijima pulled his keys up closer to his chest, once more looking down at the keychain with familiarity and softness. it was the same keychain you gifted him in his senior year, and despite being nearly a decade later, the keychain dusted and dirtied, he still has it dangling alongside his set of keys.

"yeah," he grunted, opening the second door, stuffing the keys into his pocket carefully, staring straight-ahead into the house's walkway.

"welcome home 'toshi, oh, hello satori!"

please like and repost with tags

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu headcanons #haikyu x reader #hq ushijima #ushijima smut #ushijima x tendou #ushijima imagine #ushijima x reader smut #ushijima x you #ushijima fluff #tendou satori #ushijima wakatoshi

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bl4cktourmaline · 4 months

Text

🍙﹒星 — day 3 featuring shinonome akito

knock knock!

heres some mail!

ଘ(੭´꒳`)°* ੈ‧₊ 💌

⌨️ᶻᶻᶻ...anon is typing... ♡

↻ᴹᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉ ˡᵒᵃᵈᵉᵈ !

❝WAHHH I TAKE DIBS ON #3 FOR THE EVENT WITH AKITO MY POOKIE 👹👹👹 Love y'all's writing btw❞

━━❝How do I love you...? Let me count...❞

Shinonome Akito is the kind of person who isn't a big fan of being very open with his emotions, not like he hates those who are more vulnerable with their emotions... it's more like he just doesn't understand it.

When he met you for the first time, he started to understand how such emotions can make one becomes so vulnerable.

... though he does it in a subtle way because it's embarrassing for him.

"Where is it...?" You let out a groan, annoyed as you put the book back on the shelves before sitting down on the bed.

You were waiting for your boyfriend who have plans with his band so his mom let you wait in his room and now here you were...stuck.

"Haa... maybe he hides it somewhere else this time" You sighed, slightly disappointed.

Now you must be wondering...why exactly are you were so keen on finding this book of his?

Well time to rewind for a little bit...

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈a few days ago...

It was around the time when the school bell rings, signaling the students that it was the end of the day.

You were practically just giggling to yourself while humming a song as you started to pack your stuffs into your school bag.

"(name)-san, you seem really happy about something...did something good happened today?" Your seatmate asked, putting the bag over their shoulder.

"Mmm! It's almost our 1st year anniversary, ahh~ I'm so excited that I don't know what to do!?" You squeaked, hands holding your blushing cheeks.

"Woah, hold it right there. Don't go running around while you're daydreaming about your boyfriend, what am I going to say if you knocked yourself out?"

"Whaaa?? How could you be so mean to me, you have no faith on me at all! I can't be that dumb-"

"You bumped into the bathroom wall after having your first kiss with him" Your friend looked at you with an unamused expression.

"I-....okay fair point" You sighed, defeated.

They laughed, making their way out of the classroom "Well, don't be late~"

"Ah!" You gasped, hurriedly packing your bag and make a run for it.

Akito was already waiting for you, leaning against the shoe lockers as other students walked passed him. He looks bored out of his mind.

Gosh...he looks so dreamy...Ah, wait snap out of it (name)!!

At that moment...

Olive green eyes met your (colour) ones.

"What took you so long?" Akito asked, walking up to where you were and you could have swore he was smiling...

But something else caught your attention before you could comment on it; an orange coloured journal drop down from his halfway opened bag.

You bent down to grab it, the book have its pages open and you can see his handwriting on them.

"Hmm? Aki, what is this-" Before you could finish your sentence, the journal was immediately taken away from your hands to which you blinked and turn to look at him.

"Don't look at it" He let out a grunt, looking flustered.

"A-Aki??" You called out, confused by his expression.

"Let's go home" Akito grabbed your hand before practically dragging you out.

"H-Hold up, it's no fair that you have longer legs!!!" You whined and you could see his smug face from the corner of your eyes.

You couldn't help but think back to what you just saw in that book...

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈back to the present...

After that day, he keeps hiding that book away in different places every time you come over to his house.

And today was no luck as usual until now...

"Is that...?"

a few cm away from your right foot was a familiar book with its bright orange color peeking out of its hiding spot.

You found it, you actually found it...

You flipped through the pages and many of those were filled with Akito's handwriting and a complete different handwriting was circle around some sentence with corrections.

By that, you mean very very dramatic corrections...

"...is this Tsukasa-san's handwriting?? Huh..." You were confused but that didn't stop you from reading some of them because you can't help but being more curious on finding out what he was hiding in this journal now...

Tsukasa-san said writing a love letter might be a good idea...why do people like this kind of stuffs? This is so embarrassing...

How do I love you...?

Let me count...

There are many reasons what make (name) as a person.

What I love about you is simple.

You're patient and understanding that it's hard for me to be honest, I like that you're always trying your best in everything you do and sometimes, I want to poke fun at your weird facial expressions when you're concentrating. I like that you are always supportive of our dreams to surpass a legend and you always think of others even when we were on a date... though I do find that kind annoying at first.

The door slammed open.

"Hey, (name) I'm back-" Akito's eyes widen when he saw you sitting on his bed with his journal wide open.

"You weren't supposed to read those!" He grunts, the tips of his ears turn red when he realized you saw what he wrote to which he couldn't help but cringe.

"...Aki"

"What?"

"I love you too!!!"

"Huh-"

He was cut off by you pounced on him, making the two of you fall down onto the wooden floorboards.

... let's just say he wasn't happy with you teasing him about it afterwards.

(っ'-')╮=͟͟͞͞💌 You receive a letter from Yue!

↻ᴹᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉ ˡᵒᵃᵈᵉᵈ !

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . .

pyon-yahoo~ I almost want to yeeted myself off a cliff or something sjgejgd this prompt + the akito combo was the hardest challenge that I have ever face in my whole lifetime as a writer omg but anyways, please reblog and likes, I would really appreciate it 🥺💅

🍙 ⁿᵒʷ ᶜᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ... : @msith , @akitofixated , @akitosheart

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