#<- If any students want to meet up on campus let me know! But I warn you I will be hightailing it for Shabbos... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mydearzero · 9 months

Text

Prey | Professor!Spencer Reid x Reader

MASTERLIST

PART 2

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: You were determined to stay collected and have your professor make the first move. To make him believe he's the one desperate for you. He's onto you though. He knows what you want, what you need. And he's going to give it to you.

Warnings: Professor!Spencer, fem!Reader, Teacher/student relationship, age gap, smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), NO Y/N, fingering, praise kink, degradation, dacryphilia, humiliation, semi-public sex, rough sex, creampie, choking, aftercare. If I missed any warnings please tell me!

3.9K words

Criminology wasn't the first class you'd voluntarily take. It was interesting enough, really. But not at all necessary for your degree.

You loved true crime as much as the next college-aged girl. That's what your excuse would be, at least, when people would inevitably ask why the hell you signed up for the class. But the real reason?

You'd seen him on campus a couple times, only a semester ago. His jagged yet put-together exterior intrigued you. His eyes met yours, if only for a split second. He was perceptive. Very perceptive.

The third time you saw him meeting with the dean, you knew you were hooked. You felt yourself mouth the syllables of his name. Heard the sound falling off your lips in a whispered tone as you overheard him introduce himself to the Criminal Law professor.

Doctor Spencer Reid.

You'd done your research, as any self-respecting student would. He was an FBI agent working for the Behavioral Analysis Unit. He was a proper genius with several degrees under his belt, even when he was your age.

He wasn't anymore, your age.

A notice got posted on the college's website a few days after your last sighting. Doctor Spencer Reid of the FBI would teach several seminars this semester, with voluntary attendance and limited availability.

You signed up in a heartbeat. You told yourself it was because he was an enigma, a puzzle for you to solve. His posture, eyes and even how he spoke screamed 'Solve me!' You, someone notorious for your ability to read people, couldn't figure him out. It frustrated you. Everything about him invited you to try and peel back the layers to let you see inside.

Were you maybe a tad too obsessed with the man without ever having spoken to him? Obviously, but you couldn't help yourself. You loved a good mystery. And this was one gorgeous mystery.

You tried to be deliberate about everything when you entered the first seminar. Don't spare the professor a second glance, but be genuinely interested. Don't hang off every word falling from his lips but raise your hand often enough to appear engaged. You wanted him to be the one to notice you first, even if it was anything but the truth.

But Professor Reid was a professor in his field for a good reason. He caught your calculated gaze a few times. Watched as you schooled your expression to perfection. Spencer had to admit, you were good. But he was better. He noticed how your stare dropped to his hands as he moved them while speaking. Noticed how the pattern of your breathing was unnatural. If his hearing was superhuman, he would've heard your heart beat irregularly.

You could seek control of the situation as much as you wanted, but your body would betray you time and time again. Spencer thrived in this little cat-and-mouse game you'd tried to set him up for. He knew you'd convinced yourself you were the cat, calculated, ready to pounce. He smiled to himself at the comparison. If only you knew you were the mouse in this situation, insignificant and small under his watchful eye. Something for him to feast on.

He'd seen you that day; the first time he was on campus. Captured your observant eye with amusement simmering in his mind. He knew who you were, and why you were here, the second you walked into the classroom. You'd tried to appear confident, sure of yourself, by walking to a spot near the front without sparing anybody around you a second glance. But Spencer saw it for what it was. A nervous but powerful stride of a girl begging for a grain of validation.

It had been brought to his attention that several girls in the class were only auditing, but not you. You were here for the real deal. You were committed to figuring him out. He could see it in the way your eyes raked over his body, reading his body language with every syllable spoken. You were genuinely interested in the subject matter, even if it was only to listen to him explain it.

He was flattered, really. Although your interest in the professor might've started as superficial as the other girls', he could see himself in the way you lost yourself in the infatuation. It wasn't just his looks that pulled you into his orbit. You were intrinsically aware of the grief, trauma and heartache he'd built up over the years. You were dying to be a part of the gravity that shaped him.

He could see how you had the power to mould people when you had your claws in them. Though, he wasn't sure it was a conscious ability you possessed. Maybe it was just who you were. You had a need for control in every sense of the word. And God, did he want to take it away from you.

If he didn't know any better, he'd be afraid you'd commit a string of murders if only it meant he would have to read into it. Consider every detail of the crime scene so he'd have to figure you out. It was admirable; your passion for complete dominance. But you couldn't fool Spencer.

He saw the way you crossed your arms, bit the skin on your lips until they bled, and picked at the skin around your nails, not quite bringing them up to your mouth to bite them, knowing it would convey insecurity. You were an insecure little girl, convincing yourself of the opposite.

Your need to understand him and domineer every situation was likely a defence mechanism, but he couldn't judge. Not when your little game got him right where you wanted him. Spencer had to applaud your dedication. The anticipation kept him on his toes every time he set foot on campus. He knew you wanted him to break, to make the first move, and he just might have to if he wanted to rid himself of the everlasting tension that seemed to have taken over his body.

Fine. Spencer would play your little game if that's what you wanted.

He saw you getting more confident, convinced he was falling into your trap the second he gave in. How the corners of your lips curled up ever so slightly when his gaze lingered on them. You were so caught up in your success that you failed to notice every action was premeditated on his part. It was only inevitable your eyes would light up with glee and triumph when he requested you to meet him in his office after class.

You knocked on his door tentatively, trying to slow your racing heart.

"Come in." Spencer's voice carried through the door. You turned the handle and stepped inside the dimly lit office.

"You wanted to see me, Professor Reid?" You spoke as your hand lingered on the door, a calculated move to come across as unsure. It was a complete 180 of your usual behaviour in class, but it was a surefire way to let him let you in. You were no threat.

If only you knew how true that was.

"Yes, close the door and have a seat, please." Spencer motioned to the chair across from him. You nodded and closed the door quietly before pulling the chair out and sitting down.

"I would like to discuss your paper with you if you don't mind." Spencer held up the printed copy he insisted everybody hand in. You scoffed when you read the specifications of the assignment. Figures he'd be old school.

"That's fine. Is there something wrong, Professor?" You batted your eyelashes the way you knew no man could resist. The act of the meek, helpless deer.

"There's nothing wrong with it, necessarily. I would simply like to discuss the subject matter with you. You sure picked an interesting topic." Spencer leaned against the back of his chair and interlocked his fingers as he saw you smile.

"What can I say? Your job intrigued me. Though, as I'm sure you could tell from my essay, I can't say I completely agree with the logic behind it." You gave him a small smile to let him know you weren't antagonising but stood behind your choices.

"Some critiques definitely can be taken into account. But it's been proven time and time again, with every case we solve through behavioural analysis, that the science and logic behind it work. Sure, we can be wrong, even way off. But it's a rare occasion." His eyebrows raised in challenge as he spoke. A small smile threatened to appear on his face as he awaited your answer.

You squinted at his apparent amusement. He wasn't taking you seriously. He knew he'd cracked you when your facade dropped. You looked genuinely offended at his lack of interest in your opinion. He almost wanted to laugh at how easy it turned out to be, to get you to drop the act.

"Don't look so smug, Professor. It's not a good look on you." You jabbed. You cursed at yourself. That wasn't an argument. You crossed your arms as you leaned back in the chair, never breaking eye contact.

"I must say, I'm kind of disappointed in you. You seemed to have a great grasp on the subject matter while in class, yet you failed one of the biggest requirements of the assignment."

You frowned at his words, genuinely confused. You egged him to continue talking.

"You see, the main requirement was to stay objective. This essay was anything but. I guess I misjudged you. I assumed you were above letting your personal opinions and vendettas get in the way of your academics. Apparently not." Spencer tsked. He was taunting you.

"How was my essay subjective?" You asked. The more you thought back to it, the more you realized how tainted the words on the pages in his hands were by your disdain for your attraction to him.

You hated him for making you feel the way you did, and you hadn't even realized it until now.

"I expected factual work. The only fact I can get from this essay is that you're driving yourself crazy with how much you want me to fuck you."

You gaped at his vulgar words.

Hook.

"Don't look so scandalized. You knew what you were getting into when you signed up for my class. You made your bed. Now lie in it." Spencer leaned forward and placed his elbows on his desk, crossing his fingers once again.

"I think you're full of shit, Spencer Reid." You sneered.

Line.

"I'm sure you do, sweetheart. And it's Doctor or Professor. I'm not picky." He had the gall to laugh.

"Profile me then, professor. If you're so damn sure of yourself." You rolled your eyes but looked at him expectantly.

Sinker.

"Stand up, lock the door." He instructed. You did as he asked with no rebuttal. He raised from his chair and walked around the desk. You followed him closely with your eyes, unable to predict his next steps.

He placed a singular finger under your chin and lifted it to make you look up at him. "Good girl." He whispered with intent. You tried to give no outward reaction to the words, but as Spencer had come to predict, your body betrayed you. Goosebumps raced down your crossed arms, and your breathing hitched, even if only slightly.

You didn't break eye contact, to Spencer's amusement. You really should've known better.

"You want me to profile you? Sure. In your essay, you kept mentioning speculation. But, you see, it's not speculation. It's deduction. You would've known and been able to differentiate the two if you weren't so busy rubbing your thighs and biting your lips in my class." His words were accompanied by his thumb coming up to your mouth, running it over the chewed-up skin of your bottom lip.

"You want to know what else I deduced just now?" He didn't wait for your reply as he brought his face closer to yours, leaning in to whisper in your ear.

"I think you like being called a good girl. But not because of the validation... No... It's the implication that turns you on." His breath scalded the delicate skin of your neck as he spoke.

You urged him to continue with your silence, breath stuck in your throat.

"You see, most girls like you like being called a good girl because they lack external male validation. They're desperate to hear those words from anyone. Not you, though... No..." Spencer laughed before continuing.

"You like it because it implies a level of authority. You love hearing it, especially from me, because it implies that I have the authority to decide for you what you are. And you wanna know what I think?" He leaned back a little to be able to look you in your wide eyes. He traced his finger over your jaw.

"I think you're a little whore. You don't want someone to validate you. You need someone to completely dominate you." He grabbed your chin forcefully. A soft whimper left your lips before you could stop it.

"Your pupils are dilated, your skin is flushed, and you're barely breathing. That's how I know I'm right. And I'm not speculating, darling." The alarmed look you gave him did nothing to deter him.

"Get on your knees." He demanded as he let go of your chin. You did so without question. You looked up at him expectantly, heart beating in your throat.

"Looks like I finally found a way to shut you up. Though, I can think of other ways. You're going to address me as 'Sir' from now on. You won't speak unless spoken to. Am I clear?"

You nodded quickly, spreading your legs to alleviate the pressure quickly building. Spencer raised an eyebrow before putting his shoe between your thighs, putting even more pressure than before.

"I asked. Am. I. Clear?"

"Yes!" You yelped. A smile that could only be described as devilish made itself apparent on your professor's face.

"Yes, what?" He asked as he pushed the point of his shoe further between your thighs.

"Yes, Sir." You all but moaned as you tried to hold yourself up, keeping your back as straight as it would allow you.

"Good girl." He said the riveting words.

You expected him to pull his pants down and force your mouth on him, but he did no such thing.

"You're gonna make yourself cum on my shoe. You better not make any noise." He instructed.

"Yes, Sir." You mumbled as you slowly started grinding against him. You felt your cheeks get redder and redder in embarrassment. You were mortified at the realization that the humiliated feeling only added to the ease of your grinding, getting wetter and wetter. Your underwear was no longer doing much to keep his shoe clean.

You looked up at Spencer, who looked unaffected. He put his hands in his pockets and sighed as if the current situation was nothing but an inconvenience to him. You slowly put your arms around his leg as you moved closer to him.

Soft whines left your mouth as you felt yourself getting closer. You'd never felt as conflicted before. So incredibly turned on, yet so embarrassed to be basically humping his leg.

Suddenly, Spencer ripped his leg away. You lost your support and fell flat on the floor in front of his feet. "That's enough."

"I thought you said I had to make myself cum, Sir?" You could hear you sounded as desperate as you probably looked.

"And I decided I'm not going to let you. Now, who said you could speak?" You quickly closed your mouth. "That's what I thought."

He gripped your upper arm harshly and hoisted you off the floor. You dared to peek at the shoe that had just now been your seat and were embarrassed to find it reflecting the light, unlike its matte counterpart.

Your legs wobbled as Spencer guided you to his desk. It was only now you realized the shutters weren't completely shut, light from the hallway shining down on your face as he pushed it down against the mahogany when he bent you over at the waist. Spencer followed your gaze.

"I guess you'll really have to be quiet, baby. My office hours start in less than an hour." You met his eyes with your own panicked ones. Anybody who did as much as try and look inside past the shutters would see you bent over his desk. He brushed your hair out of your face before flipping your skirt up and examining the sight before him.

"You soaked right through those panties of yours. Better take 'em off." He said as he hooked his fingers under them and pulled them down. You stepped out of them to the best of your ability.

Spencer picked them up, and gave them a short whiff, before walking around his desk. You didn't dare move but followed him with your eyes, confused. He looked at you as he unlocked a drawer, put them inside, and locked it again. You weren't getting those back.

He walked back around and admired the sight for a little before he unexpectantly gave your ass a harsh smack. You closed your eyes tightly as you felt yourself get wetter at the stinging sensation it left behind.

You jumped as he pushed two fingers inside without preparation. He placed his other hand on your back to push you back down against the desk. His eyes were warning you to stay still as he moved his finger expertly inside you. He brought his thumb to your clit, and you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from making any noise. The circumstances from before had ensured you were nearing the edge concerningly fast.

When Spencer sped up, you brought a hand to your mouth to muffle any noise. You felt your eyes tear up at the intensity of the sensation, so you squeezed them closed. Just as you were about to fall over the edge, Spencer stepped away. His weight against you was what was keeping you up. You felt your knees buckle as a desperate cry left your lips.

"Please, Spencer. Please."

He looked furious as he grabbed your shoulders, turning you around and pushing you back on the desk. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. He pushed your shirt up, exposing more skin to him. He tugged your bra down, not bothering to unclasp it. He tugged roughly at your nipples, making you keen, and the tears finally spill from your eyes.

"Not so tough now, huh?" He mumbled as he undid his belt with one hand. The other was still pawing at your crudely exposed breasts. He didn't bother properly pulling his pants down, only taking his cock out of its confines. You imagined you looked downright filthy compared to how composed the man in front of you still managed to appear. There was a stain on his pants from where your crotch had met his, but other than that, he was pristine.

He gave his cock a few tugs before lining himself up, grabbing your thighs and pushing inside. You couldn't contain the guttural groan that escaped you as the strength of his thrust forced your head off the desk, hanging over the edge. He didn't care as he started pounding away, using his grip on your thighs as leverage.

You could barely breathe, the angle of your neck not allowing much air to flow. Your ears started to ring as blood pooled in your head, making you dizzy as Spencer kept his brutal pace. You tried gripping his arms to pull yourself back up before you passed out, but hardly to any avail. Spencer noticed your struggle and pulled your head back on the desk. The blood rushing back down, along with a particularly harsh thrust, had you moaning his name.

You heard his haggard breath as he continued filling you again and again. The sensation of him inside you drove you crazy, the tears from earlier still fresh on your cheeks. Low groans fell from Spencer's lips when one of his hands moved to your clit, rubbing rough circles.

Just as you'd recovered from your little upside-down stint, Spencer brought the hand still resting on your thigh up to your throat, reclaiming your ability to breathe freely. He squeezed in the exact right spot. Your hands moved to his wrist, not to get him to stop, but as leverage.

"You look so good like this, like a slut for your Professor. Crying on my cock while I decide if you get to breathe." You moaned as your nails dug harshly into his wrist. You were slowly getting lightheaded again.

"You're gonna cum on my cock when I tell you to." He spoke through the sound of skin hitting skin. His voice was strained, low moans reaching your ears.

"Yes, Sir." You struggled to get the words out.

"Good girl," Spencer said once more, giving a few more intentional thrusts deep inside you. A noise that could only be classified as a scream bubbles straight out of your chest when he hit the right spot over and over and over again. He finally released the hold on your neck.

"Cum." The demand had barely reached your ears as your vision went white. You felt his hips stutter against your own, shooting his load in tandem with your own orgasm.

He slowly pulled out and admired the sight of you still trying to recover, legs wide open, dripping with his cum on his desk.

You were on the edge of hyperventilating, all the sensations overwhelming you. Spencer slowly helped you sit up, careful to not let your privates touch the harsh wood of the desk. You let yourself fall against his chest as he held you up.

"Hey, hey. You're okay. Come on, look at me." He spoke softly, in complete contrast to just mere minutes ago. You met his eyes, which had softened tremendously.

"I'm sorry if I was too harsh on you." He quietly apologized, wiping the stray tears from your cheeks.

You shook your head. "No, no... You were right. That was exactly what I needed, I suppose. Good profiler." You chuckled emptily.

Spencer stifled a laugh as he wrapped his arms around you. "Next time, you can just ask for what you want, okay? No more of this little game."

"It was fun, though. Guess I underestimated you, Sir."

Spencer groaned at the title.

"Too soon, baby girl. Maybe clean yourself up before going there again."

You winced as you felt a trickle of his cum down your leg.

"Yeah, maybe." You grimaced. You were going to be sore for the next week.

He lifted your face to his, the action feeling a lot less domineering. His eyes were gentle as he slowly leaned in, placing a delicate kiss on your lips.

"You'll still need to rewrite that essay." He muttered as he pulled away.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, hitting his shoulder lightly before giving him a peck. "Sure thing, Professor."

PART 2

3K notes · View notes

wanders-in-wonderland · 8 months

Text

Please Professor

It’s my first upper division English literature class and only a month into the semester but I’m already struggling and getting marked D’s and F’s on assignments. I can’t fail this class, I need it to keep my university scholarship to stay in school. I reach out to my professor, asking to meet with him for some extra guidance and he agrees, but only has availabilities late in the evenings. I’m happy to comply, making the trek from my dorm to the English building at 9pm for our first meeting.

The English department is on the edge of campus and when I walk into the building, the whole place looks deserted this late at night. His office is the only one with lights on and I knock softly on his open door before stepping in.

“Hi Professor, thank you so much for finding the time to meet with me for extra help!” He looks up from the papers he’s grading and smiles at me. “Not a problem, I know my class can be overwhelming for a lot of students who aren’t used to the rigor that I expect. Come in and take a seat, we’ll have you whipped up into shape in no time.” He steps out from behind his desk and closes the door behind me as I walk in. I’m too preoccupied with getting my notes out to notice that he turns the lock on the door, locking us in.

“Let’s talk about some of your recent work, and we’ll work on a few things I have my mind on to help with your technique.” He circles around to the bookcase against his wall, grabbing a textbook. “Oh go ahead and reach over my desk to grab that workbook on my desk. There are some exercises there that I think will help you.”

I stand and reach across his large, dark-stained wood desk to grab the book. Suddenly, he’s on me. Before I can straighten up, he grabs the back of my neck and slams me against his desk. I scream briefly as the workbook tumbles out of my hand and I find myself pressed against the desk, the front of my body flush on it while I’m bent over. Before I have time to react fully, he bends down over me, and whispers darkly, “Now don’t struggle, because I’d hate to have to fail you for being a bad student. And I know how badly you need my class to stay in your program so right now, you listen to me and be a good girl and maybe I’ll consider letting you pass my class.”

I cry out, “Stop please professor, I don’t understand, what are you doing?”

“Of course you don’t understand, you stupid little slut. Too dumb to even comprehend what’s going on around you huh?” He chuckles darkly and I feel his hand cup my ass briefly before it cracks down on me, spanking me harshly over my skirt.

“Ah, wait no! Please, you can’t do this!” I try and push up off the table but he’s too strong. “Oh no pretty slut, you are going to take whatever I give you or else I will fail you right now and you’ll be kicked out of the school by the end of the week. Do you want that instead?” His hand rests on my ass, kneading my flesh roughly and the other one increases the pressure on the back of my neck.

“Please, no,” I whimper brokenly. I feel him breathe deep against my hair and he groans softly. “You’re mine for the semester, slut. And you are going to do whatever I want, just to keep your pretty little self on your scholarship.”

I start to cry, shaking slightly as my tears are dripping down my face and onto his desk. His hand comes off my neck and I hold still, knowing I can’t fight back in any way. His hand flips my skirt up and he sees the white panties I’m wearing with pink little bows printed all over them. “So pretty, slut,” he says as he runs a finger down between the globes of my ass, towards my pussy. I whimper softly and my hands come to grip the side of his desk.

“I don’t want you making any noise,” he says and without warning, I feel his hand crack down on my ass again, this time with more force. The spank makes my body lurch forward on the desk, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from crying out. He doesn’t hesitate as he begins to rain down harsh spanks all over my ass and upper thighs. I cry harder, muffling my sobs as best I can as I feel each hit adding to the soreness.

He’s methodical as he continues, not stopping or slowing for what feels like hours. My ass and thighs are burning but slowly, I can feel my pussy reacting as well, swelling and starting to drip more and more with each hit. I squirm slightly, trying to discreetly rub my legs together to relieve some of the tension. He notices.

“You’re getting turned on by this aren’t you, slut?” He laughs softly and I whimper in protest, “Please no, I’m not, please stop.”

He grabs my neck again, “Don’t lie, that’s not the behavior of a good student. I can see your pretty pussy dripping through your panties from here, you dirty little slut.” I whimper, feeling my face burn as hot as my ass. He reaches down and slides a hand against my pussy, through my panties and I gasp. His fingers dance along my lips, my wetness making my panties cling to the outline of my cunt. Without warning, he grips my panties and tears them away from my body, leaving my pussy fully exposed and my skirt still bunched around my waist. I whimper and feel myself gush a little at his actions, the clench of my cunt making me feel even worse.

His fingers come to meet my bare body now, and he slides them against my slit, laughing when he feels how much I’m dripping. “Oh we’re gonna have fun this semester,” he says. His fingers pluck my swollen clit, and I arch my back and moan, the sound erupting out of me unbidden. He’s relentless as he works my clit quickly, my wetness letting his fingers slide deliciously over me, the friction making me eyes roll slightly. My legs are trembling as I feel my orgasm fast approaching and he knows it too. “Little slut, are you going to cum like this? All splayed out for your professor, so desperate for that passing grade that you’ll do anything, even degrade yourself like a common whore?” I whine softly, my head spinning from the pleasure as my pussy clenches.

I vaguely hear his belt jingling and the rustle of clothing but I’m too preoccupied with my approaching orgasm to understand what that means. He doesn’t let up on my clit and I can feel myself seconds from erupting, moans and whimpers coming out of my mouth desperately.

My body seizes and I feel my orgasm rush through me, making me let out a strangled moan as feeling hits. Suddenly, I feel his long, hard cock slam into my cunt and I wail. He fucks me hard and fast through my orgasm, not stopping to let me adjust to his length or his speed. I’m scrambling to stay on the desk as he rails into me, his harsh grunts in my ear and his bruising grip on my hips. “That’s it, squeeze my cock just like that, slut. Fuck, your cunt feels so good.”

My eyes roll back into my head as his cock pound into me, my previous orgasm hasn’t even faded before I feel a second one building. He doesn’t seem to care about slowing down to let me recover as he keeps his unforgiving pace, drilling into me and pulling groans and whimpers out of me. His hand goes back to play with my clit and I scream, the throbbing of my cunt mixed with his attention pushes my second orgasm over the edge. I feel my walls flutter around his cock and he groans in my ear as I cum, sobbing from the overstimulation. He doesn’t stop, he fucks me through my second orgasm, the rubbing of his cock against my g-spot making me see stars.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum in your tight little pussy slut.” I feel his thrusts becoming erratic as he nears his orgasm. “I hope you’re on birth control, slut, because I’m gonna fill your cunt,” he says, his words punctuated by his thrusts. His groan is deep and guttural when he cums, the feeling of his cock erupting inside of me making my cunt clench harder around him, pulling him in. He stops for a second, letting his body cover mine, pressing even harder into the desk. His harsh breathing in my ear sends shivers down my spine.

“Flip over, get on the table, and hold yourself open,” his voice is gravelly as he pulls away from me, his cum dripping out of my cunt onto my legs. I whimper as I force my body to comply, pushing my sore and fucked out body onto his desk and spreading my legs, leaving my dripping cunt exposed to him. He smirks, “Stay there, slut.” He circles around his desk and I hear him opening a drawer and grabbing something before he comes back. It’s a vibrator. My eyes widen and I whimper, “Wait, no please. I can’t, it’s too much.” He leans into my face and growls darkly, “I don’t care, you’ll take what I give if you want to pass my class, got it slut?” I nod as tears start to fall again.

He clicks the vibrator on and I watch as the head blurs with its intensity. He brings it to my cunt, smirking slightly as he places his free hand on my hip, preemptively holding me down. His hand travels down and parts my folds to reveal my swollen clit, red and puffy from his previous attention. Without any preparation, he pushes the head of the vibrator directly on my clit and I scream. The intensity is so high and my body is already reeling from the overstimulation from his cock. The vibrator makes it all so much worse, but so good. I arch my back and buck my hips, desperately trying to dislodge him. “It’s time to earn your next grade, slut,” he says smirking.

“For every orgasm, you get 10%. Cum 10 times, and you’ll get 100% on the next essay.” My eyes widen and I sob, “No please, I can’t, please it’s too much!”

He smirks, “Or I could fail you now.”

“Ah please, no no no!” I’m crying, from the feeling of my poor clit being so thoroughly overstimulated and from the idea of him failing me. Despite my previous orgasms, I feel myself barreling towards another. The feeling builds as he grounds the vibrator harder against my clit, and I scream it out, feeling my pussy gush as I squirm and shake. He smirks, “10%.”

My next orgasm seems to blend with the first and I’m hardly coherent enough to process his words as he forces me to cum again and again.

Thirty minutes later, I’ve cum seven more times and my body is at its limit. “Please no more, please professor.” I’m almost unconscious, my voice cracking from my constant screaming and my cunt bright red from the vibrator. He’s uncaring as he stands over me, forcing my body to endure orgasm after orgasm.

“Just one more and you get a 100%, you’re so close, slut. Don’t stop now.” His smile is feral as he keeps the vibrator directly in my clit. My legs shake and I feel myself teetering at the edge of one more orgasm. The feeling overwhelms me, pain and pleasure blending into a euphoric feeling and my eyes roll and my back arches for one final time.

As the orgasm fades, my body lies limp, my legs dangling off his desk and head lolling. He finally clicks off the vibrator. “Good job slut, your first A in my class. Keep it up and maybe you’ll be passing in a month or so. I’ll see you next week same time.”

—

The semester ended last week and my grade for the class is already finalized on my transcript, an A+. But here I am, spread wide on his desk again, my cunt clenching and dripping around his cock as I cum like a perfect little whore for him.

“Such a good slut.”

#dark fantasy #nsft concept #overstim kink #cl1t torture #rap3 fantasy #mind break

2K notes · View notes

hairyjocktf · 19 days

Text

Filling the Roster

Aidan was just starting his second year at university. The summer home with family had been exhausting and he was pumped to be back on campus with everyone and to get back to his routine. Ever since going off to college he’d been trying to work on himself, including going to the gym for the first time in his life. He’d gotten into a good routine his freshman year but hadn’t managed to gain much muscle yet, to his dismay. He was hoping to change that this year. The first day of classes had been a snoozefest, just reading syllabi and some uncomfortable ice breakers, so he was ready to get out of the classroom and into the gym again.

He walked into the campus gym and glanced around to see what was open. He noticed what looked like the wrestling team in the back, hogging all the squat racks and making their presence known with obnoxious grunting. Making a mental note to avoid that area today, Aidan went over to the treadmill to warm up. He’d always been on the nerdier side growing up, and while he did have a year of exercise under his belt now, he still didn’t fit in with that kind of crowd. Aidan put in his earbuds and got to it, the next hour flying by as he did a mild total body workout to ease himself back in.

Satisfied with himself for the day, he grabbed his water bottle and headed to the locker room. Normally he hated changing here and would just walk home first, but he had a club meeting that evening and he didn’t have time to go all the way back. He walked in and was immediately assaulted by the stench, the room absolutely stunk of BO and sweat. Yeah it was a locker room but this was a bit much, he thought as he breathed through his mouth. The wrestling guys had evidently finished their workouts too, as the room was noisy from all their chatter and yelling. They’d left their gear scattered all over the benches and floor, leaving hardly any room for anyone else. Aidan rolled his eyes and squeezed his way through the chaos to an empty corner. Despite working out for an hour he hadn’t sweat much, he never did, so he skipped the shower. Midway through changing he realized the room had gone silent. He turned around to check if the wrestlers had all left but instead was greeted with a sight that made him freeze.

The entire team had gathered behind him and now stared at him. The biggest guy, who Aidan recognized as their captain, Beau, broke the silence.

“Hey pipsqueak,” he said with a shockingly deep voice for a college student, “We found out today we’re down a man this season. We gotta solve that ASAP, y’know?”

Aidan was confused and intimidated. “Uh… Sorry to hear that man,” he said with a crack in his voice. He took a step back only to hit the wall of lockers behind him.

“Yea it’s a real shame ain’t it,” the wrestler took a step towards Aidan. “It’s a good thing I’m a great recruiter,” he laughed to himself. There was an almost sinister grin plastered on his face.

Aidan felt cornered, realizing that he was standing there in just his boxers. “What do you want with me dude?” He asked frantically as the wrestlers slowly closed in on him. The putrid stench in the room was only getting worse as the jocks came nearer.

“Like I said, we need a replacement wrestler,” Beau replied, pulling a yellowed jockstrap out of his bag that was on the bench. “I think you’ll enjoy getting to know the team.”

Aidan’s heart was pounding through his chest, he didn’t know what they wanted with him but he knew he needed to get out NOW. His fight or flight (mostly flight) instincts were kicking in. He looked past the wall of jocks to the door of the locker room, about 20 feet away. Before he had a chance to act, two of the wrestlers pounced. They grabbed Aidan’s arms and held him in place as Beau walked up to him.

“What the fuck, let me go!” Aidan cried in distress, struggling against his captors. They were bigger and evidently much stronger than him, not letting him budge at all.

“Hush now, I think you have some real potential here, I’m just going to let that all out,” Beau told Aidan before grabbing his boxers and ripping them off. Aidan’s flaccid cock was on full display, as were the paltry few hairs he called his bush.

“Well, I’ve seen worse,” Beau chuckled to himself. He took the dirty jockstrap in his hand and pulled it up Aidan’s legs letting it snap into place around his small member.

“Let me go!” Aidan yelled, continuing to try and break free from the jock’s hold.

“Just give it a moment,” Beau said, kneeling down to look closer at Aidan’s groin. Aidan’s struggling lessened as he noticed a strange sensation coming from his crotch that was seemingly getting more intense every second. It felt… good almost. No, it did feel good, it was almost like he was jerking off without even touching himself. He felt his dick start to harden as the sensation of pleasure grew.

Beau laughed, “There you go man! I knew you’d come around.” Those words barely registered in Aidan’s ears as he stared at his dick, watching it grow erect and push against the jockstrap as his body was flooded with pleasure hormones. It felt incredible, like his dick was growing harder than ever before. It in fact was, growing steadily past his previous five inches, reaching seven, eight, as it really started to tent the jockstrap. A tingling feeling arose within Aidan’s crotch at the same time as Beau leaned in to take a closer look.

“Aww yea, look at those pubes start to come in. Fuck that’s hot.” He watched as dark hairs sprouted out of Aidan’s mostly bare crotch, like thick weeds shooting out of his skin. Aidan groaned as the sensation of hair growing added to his already euphoric state. Hairs continued popping up across his groin, filling in denser and denser as they spread out. “Looks like our man’s goin’ through puberty right in front of us,” Beau said as he rubbed his hand through the sprouting bush. Aidan’s body shivered in pleasure, Beau’s touch seemingly encouraging more hairs to push out of him. The pubic hairs grew longer and curled together, climbing up the shaft of his now massive cock. Beau grinned as he noticed Aidan’s balls swelling, growing to the size of eggs, then tangerines as they stretched his sack and hung lower. That was just the beginning, as the same thick dark pubes wormed their way out giving him a thick coating. At this point the jockstrap was barely covering anything. Aidan’s now nine inch cock stood completely erect, tenting the fabric and letting his new bush explode outward. Those thick pubes were starting to produce their own musk, not too dissimilar from the general stench of the locker room. The hairs spread out even farther, beginning to climb up above his waistband and onto his stomach, as well as spreading to his inner thighs with a thick rug. Aidan hung in the jocks’ arms nearly limp, his cock dribbling precum like a faucet.

“Well I think this has served its purpose,” Beau said to himself as he pulled the jockstrap off Aidan, letting his thick cock snap up against his stomach. The flow of precum soaked the area around his navel, and where the precum had wetted his skin, more thick hairs began to crop up. Beau went back to his bag and exchanged the dripping jockstrap for a wrestling singlet. It was damp from sweat and being stuffed in Beau’s dank gym bag, and stank to high heaven. With the help of the other wrestlers, Beau got the tight singlet onto Aidan’s lanky body. It didn’t really fit, but there was an enormous bulge from Aidan’s recent developments. He pulled the shoulder straps and let them snap down onto Aidan’s bony clavicle. That immediately pulled Aidan out of his subdued hormone-fueled slumber.

“Oh, god, oh, oh what the fuck,” he said, processing the past few minutes. Part of his brain was still in adrenaline mode, telling him he needed to BOLT, while another part was content with this situation, elated even. The longer he breathed in the musky air of the locker room the louder that voice became, and the more he wanted Beau’s hands back on him. He looked up away from his own body and made eye contact with Beau, a grin crossing his stubbled face.

“You already look good in that singlet man, it won’t take much now,” Beau told him. Aidan’s mind was running at light speed but his mouth was not on the same wavelength.

“What are you-, why are-, how the-,” Aidan was trying to get his thoughts out when the pulsing, pleasurable sensation began to return. His words trailed off as he looked down at his own flat chest, watching with wide eyes as two muscular pecs began to push out. He felt his whole body begin to tighten as muscle started popping out all over. Pronounced bone disappeared under layers of thick muscle that began to fill out his form, and the singlet. What had previously been impressively slack for a spandex suit was now taught against his body, expanding as he did. His pecs grew sore as they continued to grow, blocking Aidan’s view of his lower half as they packed on size. On the new horizon of his chest he noticed something, tiny hairs were poking out of his mountainous pecs. They started small and slow but quickly began shooting up all across the vast expanse of his chest. The hairs itched as they grew in, Aidan wasn’t bothered, he was in awe at the forest that was engulfing his new muscles. He ran his hands through the growing hairs, pulling gently on the hairs as they continued their advance across his chest, working up towards his neck and down across his stomach. As the hairs matured they grew darker and curlier, tangling into a thick rug across his pecs. Beau watched Aidan become enraptured by his own jockification. He noticed a growing wet spot in his groin where the precum continued to leak out constantly.

Beau stepped back up to Aidan and planted his hand on his chest, feeling the growing fields of hair. That alone was enough to get a soft moan out of Aidan, putting a devilish grin on Beau’s face. He pinned Aidan’s growing frame against the locker before raising one of his arms up. What he found was underwhelming; a handful of light wispy hairs scattered across the armpit. That would have to change. He stuck his hand into his own sweaty, hairy pit and rubbed it around, coating his fingers in thick jock sweat and musk. He sniffed them just to make sure it was potent enough, and his body was never slacking in the sweat department. Taking his moistened hand he went back to Aidan’s nearly hairless pit and massaged the sweat in. Within moments he felt little prickles of stubble against his fingers. Beau saw dark pinpricks appearing across Aidan’s pit, spots that quickly erupted into thick, wiry hairs. The original wispy hairs grew dark and curly as the sweat did its work, and soon Aidan had a respectable amount of hair under his arm. But that wasn’t enough for Beau, he dug out some more musky sweat from his own pits to finish the job. Soon enough Aidan’s pit hairs completely coated the area, even reaching out to connect with the pelt on his chest. Beau’s fingers were combing through the thick hairs, gently tugging on them and pulling out more growth. Aidan moaned again; the feeling of Beau’s hands stroking his growing pit hairs was euphoric. He was slipping more and more from his old self as his body grew to love this new reality, the jock voice in his own head growing louder.

Beau was satisfied with the pit situation after he was able to smell Aidan’s newly produced stench from a distance. He stepped back and watched as Aidan’s body continued to adjust to the singlet. In the same way his pecs had ballooned, his arms began exploding with size. His delts, triceps, biceps, and forearms grew intensely sore as they put on years worth of bulk in moments. Aidan was finally starting to look like a wrestler who could hold his own on the mat. The definition on his new muscles was quickly hidden as hair began to sprout across his boulder shoulders and down his arms. What started as a few hairs popping up across his shoulders grew into a flood of dark hair that surged down his arms, and the singlet left it all visible for the crowd. The hairs continued growing denser, curling around each other as the hair began to resemble fur on his bulky arms; he would look like a total beast of a man in action. Aidan’s hands got the same treatment, his palms grew bulkier as his hands stretched out in size. He could hear the popping sounds of his growth but was too flush with hormones to care, barely registering the thick hairs growing on the backs of his hands. Beau could already tell Aidan was going to become one of their best wrestlers, with his immense size and build. All he needed was to let the inner jock blooming inside of him take control.

After the growth in Aidan’s arms slowed down, his legs picked up the slack. His quads beefed up, thighs nearly shredding the singlet with their girth. Beau watched as Aidan’s bulge twitched and leaked as his legs grew longer and thicker than they’d ever been. His feet began to stretch and grow, expanding to a size 15 before becoming covered by hairs. Those hairs raced up his calves and onto his thighs, leaving him with a thick fur coating for his tree trunks. Aidan had grown to the point where he could take most of the jocks on the team, almost rivaling Beau’s height and mass. Beau knew he’d made a good call with Aidan, he’d been so similar before he joined the team. He couldn’t help but rub his hands over Aidan’s furry legs, feeling the coarse hairs run through his fingers. He could feel Aidan’s heart rate increase. He almost felt envious of him, experiencing immense growth like this was a once in a lifetime event, and he knew Aidan was almost complete.

Aidan groaned as his body fully filled out the singlet, stretching it to its limit with his massive muscles. The fur that had coated his body felt incredible rubbing against the fabric, keeping his cock at full mast, pressed against the singlet so everyone knew. Beau looked him up and down; Aidan had the body of a tank, a heavyweight champion, but a severe case of babyface. Beau had an idea, he went back to his grab and grabbed his mouthguard. It was grimy and had a couple hairs stuck to it, but it’d do the trick. He grabbed Aidan’s pudgy face and opened his mouth, shoving the guard in. Aidan sputtered as he gagged on old spit and wiry hairs.

“Aw, the hell bro what was that,” he complained weakly. Beau smiled, he was already speaking more like a jock, and that voice was getting deeper. He watched as an Adam's apple pushed out of Aidan’s neck, cementing his new rugged voice. Aidan’s face started to darken a shade as the shadow of thick stubble spread across his jaw. It quickly pushed out, brown hairs coating his face. They grew longer and thicker, with more popping up between old ones, giving him an incredibly dense short beard. Aidan moaned as the hairs spread across his jaw and up his sideburns to his hair, which gained some lighter highlights and shortened into a more athletic style. His upper lip erupted with the same thick hairs, giving him a full short beard. His jaw squared up and his eyebrows grew bushier, before his ears grew and stuck out from his head more. He finally looked fully like a champion wrestler. Aidan stroked his hands through the dense growth, finally pushing him over the edge. His breaths quickened and grew louder as he climaxed, grunting as cum erupted out of his thick cock. It pushed through the fabric of the singlet, pouring down the front of it. The euphoric trance he’d been in began to fade, but the old Aidan was gone. He was Aidan the wrestler, a jock ready to conquer his path on the mat. Instinctually he flexed, showing off his beefy arms and hairy pits. The scent emanating from his pits matched the rest of the locker room now, and he took a big whiff of it out of habit, that manly odor really turned him on. Beau laughed and grabbed Aidan’s hand, pulling him upright. His cum was still dripping down his singlet onto the floor, adding to the pungent scent of the locker room.

“Welcome to the team bro,” Beau said, looking forward to their best season yet.

#male tf #hairy tf #jock tf #hair growth #hairy #hairy chest #hairy pits #beard #my writing

464 notes · View notes

slayfics · 3 months

Text

Valentine’s Day with Katsuki.

1,500 words~

You trailed behind Katsuki after classes as you both returned to the dorms.

"Hey," he mumbled. "What do you have planned for tomorrow?" he asked as he walked ahead of you with his hands jammed into his pockets.

"Nothing other than classes," You responded.

Katsuki grunted, "Well what do you want then?"

Tomorrow was Valentine's Day, and the rest of your classmates had been buzzing excitedly about their plans and who their valentine was.

You and Katsuki have had some... type of relationship for a while now. While it was never defined, you knew he felt some affection towards you. It surprised you that he had semi-acknowledged what tomorrow was at all, given how much trouble he had expressing any emotions other than anger.

"I don't want anything Bakugo," You answered honestly. You didn't feel like you needed any stuffed animals or chocolates to prove to others your connection with Katsuki was real. It was already obvious by the way he never protested your company like he did his other classmates.

"Tch- fine then where do you want to go?" he asked as he slowed down a bit, although still walking slightly ahead of you.

"I don't care, as long as I get to spend time with you," you said pulling at his arm and bringing his hand out of his pocket.

"You're so damn cheesy," He complained, as you interlaced your fingers with his. His walking slowed even more, matching your pace now. "Just meet me after class then- I'll figure something out, alright?"

"Ok," You agreed happily.

The next day was full of excitement around the U.A. campus, several students walked around with teddy bears and various other gifts from their partners.

Classes kept you busy and couldn't talk to Katsuki much. It was nice to see your other classmates so excited about their plans and gifts, but it made you even more anxious for the day to end.

Would Katsuki really have planned something, you wondered?

Finally, after what felt like entirely too long, your class was released. Madness ensued as others showed off their gifts or made their way out to plans.

Katsuki made his way out of the class avoiding any conversations with anyone. You slipped out and followed behind him. You were a little hurt he hadn't said anything to you and exited so quickly, but you knew he hated these things and wouldn't want to express anything around your classmates.

Katsuki heard your footsteps behind him and called out to you, "You ready brat?"

You quickened your pace to catch up to him, "Yeah- but ready for what?"

"We got a bit of a walk so- I don't want to hear any complaining from you. Got it?" He barked.

"Yeah, no problem," you agreed. "But- where are we going?"

"You'll see when we get there!" He snapped.

Katsuki was right, the walk was long. And for the most part, it was filled with awkward silence. You couldn't think of anything to say to him, and Katsuki was wrapped up in his own thoughts, anxious about what he planned.

Finally, his stride slowed as you both approached the shore of the closest beach to the U.A. campus.

"We're here," he announced.

You looked at the beach and back at him stunned. He chose to bring you both to the beach? Ever since you were a kid, you loved the beach, the feel of the sand, the sound of the waves, and the feel of the mist on your face. You remembered only mentioning your love of the beach to Katsuki once- long ago at the start of your time at U.A., had he really remembered that?

Katsuki squinted and took in your reaction, trying to make sense of it. Your eyes were wide, and you were speechless. He didn't understand if that was good or bad.

"What? Is it too dumb? I know it's winter but-, fuck it let's go back then," He deiced and tried to walk away.

"No!" You yelled and grabbed his arm. "This is- really sweet Bakugo. Did you- really remember I liked the beach?" You asked.

"Duh- you don't shut up about it," he said grumpily taking off his school bag, pulling out a blanket, and making his way to the sand.

You laughed. You definitely only told him once. It shocked you that he had committed it to memory.

Katsuki laid the blanket on the sand and sat down, "Well? You going to join me or keep standing there dumb ass?" He asked.

You hurried over to the blanket and sat down next to him, your shoulder grazing his.

"Tch- you always like to be so close, don't you?" he complained.

You scooted away giving him some space.

"You didn't have to move- it's fine," he said much quieter and he looked away from you pretending to look at something down the shoreline.

You giggled and scooted back.

"You hungry? I made food," he said and pulled out two containers from his bag.

"Are you serious?"

"What!? What's wrong with that?!" he asked defensively.

"Nothing! It's' just- eating dinner while watching the sunset on the beach- it's really romantic. The best Valentine's Day I've ever had." You smiled at him.

"Shut the hell up. It's not like it was that hard," he grumbled as he held out the food for you to grab while he looked the opposite way, intent on hiding the blush that took over his face.

You grabbed the food and undid the container, "This looks really good. You made it?" You asked.

"Yeah- it's just rice, tofu, and some vegetables. Nothing crazy." He said and started taking bites.

"It's perfect, I love it. You're an amazing cook," You complimented.

Katsuki just shrugged his shoulders.

"So, I um- I got you something," you said.

"What?" His gaze snapped to you in surprise.

"It's nothing big but," You reached for your school bag and brought out your gift. You meant to hand it nicely to him, but your nervousness caused you to almost throw it at him. Luckily Katsuki didn't care, instead, he was focused on your gift: a hot sauce bottle with a red ribbon around it.

"You got me hot sauce?" he asked with an indecipherable look on his face.

"Yeah! I know you like spicy stuff- but now that I'm here, I'm thinking about it- that was probably a really dumb Valentine's gift, wasn't it? I'm sorry," you said embarrassed.

Katsuki looked at the bottle a bit longer before answering, "It's not dumb. I haven't tried this one. Been wanting to," he said as he opened it and put some on his food.

"It's good," he said after taking a bite. "It's actually hot, unlike the other ones back in the kitchen in the dorms. Keeping this one in my room for sure." He said, placing it in his bag.

You smiled as you both finished up the last of the food Katsuki made.

"Hey, do you- mind if I take a picture?" You asked, voice shaking a bit unsure of how Katsuki would respond.

"I don't care," he responded.

You took out your phone and snapped a photo of you both. Your smile beamed through the photo, and Katsuki's neutral smile spoke volumes compared to his usual scowl and furrowed brows.

"Do you- care if I post it?" You asked.

"Do what you want," he said packing away the food containers.

You quickly tagged him and posted the photo to your profile.

"Sun is basically gone now and it's getting cold, you ready to head back?" He asked.

"Almost," you said looking at him with puppy dog eyes.

"Hu? What's that look for?" He asked.

You didn't know how to tell Katsuki you wanted to kiss him, instead your eyes just rested on his lips.

"Speak up brat!" He barked.

"I uh- can I... kiss you?" You managed to say but looked away afraid to look at his reaction.

"Not if you don't turn this way," he said smartly. Katsuki put his hand under your chin and guided your lips to his for a kiss that felt too short and yet seemed to stop time simultaneously.

That was until-

"OH MY GOD!" You exclaimed, placing your hands over your lips.

"What?!" He yelled confused.

"ITS HOT!" You yelled.

Katsuki exploded with laughter at understanding, the hot sauce he had was now burning your lips up as you weren't used to spice like he was.

"Don't laugh!" You said and playfully smacked his shoulder.

"You should see your face! You're completely red!" he said practically kneeling over in laughter.

"Whatever let's go back!" You said standing up.

Once Katsuki was done laughing, he stood up and put the blanket away.

"So that was the hottest kiss you ever had then?" He said playfully at you.

"In more ways than one," You teased back as you both made your way back to the dorms.

Later in the night, you were surprised to get a notification that Katsuki had re-posted the photo of you both.

Tags: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @bakugouswaif @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a

633 notes · View notes

dyaz-stories · 14 days

Text

you know my tongue is a weapon || gojo satoru x reader

synopsis: Shoko suggests a study night, but Gojo's bored and he doesn't want to study. So, instead, he offers to play a game, when all the others have left to get some food: every time he gets an answer right, he gets a kiss.

As you soon find out, Gojo can be very good at studying, as long as he gets something out of it.

word count: 3.8k

genre: college!AU, mostly fluff i think

cw: kissing, making out, semi-public kissing, unresolved sexual tension, reader is insecure and is therefore an unreliable narrator, dry humping ig, fem reader (the word girl is used once)

a/n: first time writing for jujutsu and for gojo! any feedback is appreciated, and i hope you enjoy yourselves :)

soundtrack

prequel

Exam season is never a fun time to be on campus. Stress fills the air, the hallways, the always full libraries, even the coffee shops where people usually meet to relax between two classes. It’s the only conversation subject between sleep-deprived students, looming over their head threateningly at any time of the day and night. It’s stifling, a weight on their chest that never quite wears off.

As for you, well, you’re doing alright.

Oh, for sure, it’s a lot of work, and you’re not thrilled about it by any stretch of the imagination, but academia is your thing, so you don’t find it nearly as crushing as others do. You’re more terrified of the time period that comes afterwards, while you’re waiting for the results like Judgement day.

In the meantime, you’ve given up on trying to find a spot to study in the library, and you’ve been doing most of it in your small student room. You haven’t stepped outside in days when Shoko texts you to suggest a study night. You suspect that she hasn’t started working and intends to cram, but you take her up on the offer nonetheless.

You show up at her place right on time — you always are — with your notes and some snacks. You wait quietly after knocking, trying to make sense of the chatter you hear on the other side of the door. She had mentioned she would ask a few other people if they wanted to join, which you had assumed would be fine, but faced with the reality of it now you can feel a lump growing in your throat. Academia might be easy for you, but people… aren’t.

When the door opens to reveal Gojo Satoru, piercing blue eyes meeting yours through white locks of hair that he pushes out of his face a second later, you fully consider turning around and leaving.

“You made it,” he says, shooting you a wide grin.

“Hi,” you squeak in reply.

Gojo is a… friend. Ish. Kinda. You think. Well, he’s a friend of Shoko’s, anyway, so the two of you have hung out, socially, before. Up until last summer, you assumed he didn’t even know your name.

“Thank God you’re here,” Shoko says, appearing from behind him to grab your hand. “No one here wants to work. We need to whip these imbeciles into shape or something.”

“I’m working,” Nanami sighs from the table in the living room, where he’s sitting alone.

“I was just waiting for everyone to be here, Shoko,” Geto says, his voice soft and even, as he approaches the table.

You set your bag down, giving Nanami an sympathetic smile, and he pushes his glasses higher on his nose. When he nods at you, you’re pretty sure it’s a silent way of saying ‘thank you for not leaving me alone with them’.

“What are you guys starting with?” you ask, pulling some books out of your bag.

Everyone here has different majors, but with some classes in common. You’re not sure how efficient this enterprise is going to be, if you’re completely honest, but as Gojo lets himself fall on a chair with a dramatic sigh, you suppose it can’t be worse than if he was left to his own devices.

“I’m doing literature, algebra and physics tonight!” Haibara announces, perhaps a tad too enthusiastic. You don’t want to crush his hopes and dreams, but—

“You’re never going to get through all that in one night,” Nanami says with a frown.

“Don’t listen to him”, Gojo intervenes, “you can do anything you set your mind to.”

There are stars in Haibara’s eyes when he looks at him, but you notice the glances Gojo is stealing at Nanami, and the way his smile widens when Nanami grits his teeth in annoyance. You bite your lip so you don’t let out a chuckle.

“Do you want to start with literature with me?” you offer. “Nanami, you’ll have to handle algebra because I’m not taking any algebra classes this semester.”

The corner of Nanami’s lips curves to form a smile.

“It’s good that someone here is taking this seriously.”

“Ugh,” Gojo mutters. “Fine. Hey, Suguru, do you know what tests I have next week?”

Nanami buries his head in his hands with a pained groan, and you laugh again, lump gone from your throat now, as you move your chair to come sit next to Haibara. Gojo’s eyes follow your movement silently. When you lean over the same textbook as Haibara, shoulders brushing against his as you push a lock of hair behind your ear, his expression turns thoughtful. It’s only when Geto drops a book in front of him that he snaps out of it.

“Are you sure you don’t want to do shots instead?” he asks, tone sour.

“Man, don’t tempt me,” Shoko whines as she sits down as well. “The shots will have to wait.”

Truly, Gojo thinks, sadder words have never been spoken.

Nanami calls it quits right before 10 pm. He’s tried to leave a few times by then, usually because of one of Gojo’s quips, but Shoko’s managed to keep him around until then. It doesn’t help how delighted Gojo gets by his reactions, and you can’t blame him for abandoning you. You don’t doubt for a second that he would have been much more productive without everyone else around.

“If they pass their exams, we should give ourselves all the credit for that,” he comments at your intention, right before walking out the door. “Good luck with them.”

Then he’s gone, before Gojo can start to protest about why he is not getting any encouragements, even though he’s suffering so much, and everyone is mean, and nothing about this is fun, and—

Haibara, despite his best intentions, falls asleep on the couch less than thirty minutes later. It was just supposed to be quick nap, but by midnight he’s still down, and you can’t bring yourself to wake him up. Plus it’s not like you were making a lot of progress with him anyway, so he just might be better off sleeping.

It’s not long after that that Shoko starts to get real antsy. So far, she has kept on track despite Gojo’s attempts at distracting her, but you can tell she is starting to get incredibly bored. Somehow, that doesn’t seem to be Gojo’s case, even if the way his leg bounces underneath his chair tells you he’s itching to do anything other than sit here doing nothing.

“Fuck it,” Shoko says, finally giving up. “I’m going to get something to eat.”

Geto frowns.

“Now? Alone?”

“As if anything would happen to her,” Gojo says, spinning a pen between his fingers. “She’ll be the scariest person out there.”

Geto rolls his eyes.

“I’ll come with you,” he tells Shoko, and she shrugs. “Do you want to come too, Satoru?”

Gojo lets himself fall down on his chair, looking at Geto with his head hanging behind the back of the chair.

“Nah,” he says after a few seconds of intense deliberation. “Can’t abandon the teacher here.”

You feel your face heating up.

“Oh, I mean, I’m sure I’ll be fine. If you want to go, you should—”

“It’s fine,” he handwaves your protests away. “I’ll finally get some work done without Shoko here to constantly distract me with—”

He bursts out laughing when Shoko throws her pen at him.

“We’ll be right back,” she announces, standing up. “You,” she points at Gojo, “play nice. And you,” she gives you a severe look, “don’t hesitate to hit him. I’m not joking.”

She leaves the room, escorted by Geto. Haibara doesn’t even stir when the door slams.

“Alright,” Gojo says, not wasting a second to reach for your chair so he can pull you closer to him, “it’s my turn to get my own personal tutor.” His fingers brush against your leg as he pulls you in, and you know, from how his eyes seem to drink in everything about you, that he doesn’t miss your quiet gasp nor the way your breath quickens. You’ve noticed this before, too. If he likes annoying Nanami, he seems to delight in your reactions at least as much — though he tries to make you laugh or to fluster you rather than piss you off.

“Um,” you say, with the eloquence that characterizes you around him, “what do you need help with?”

He tilts his head to the side as he studies you. You find him breathtaking, you always do, but you think you’ve gotten better at hiding it, so even if it feels like he’s looking right into your soul, you give him an easy smile.

Somehow, he is the one who ends up averting his eyes.

“How about philosophy?”

Right, the two of you share that one class on the history of ideas.

“Sure,” you say, already grabbing a book and thumbing through it. “I’ve taken quite a few notes for that class, actually, I can give them to you if you—”

“That’s boring,” he interrupts you. “We should do something else.”

You put down your book, intrigued, and something twists in your stomach when you see the look he’s giving you. He’s like a cat with a mouse, with exactly the same hunger in his eyes.

“What—” you clear your throat when your voice cracks. “What are you suggesting?”

“Well,” he leans forward, resting his elbow on the table and putting his chin in his palm, “I need an incentive to work, you know?”

You swallow. Sure.

“So how ‘bout I get a kiss for every right answer I give you?”

And you almost choke on air.

“What?” you manage to croak. Blood is rushing to your face, and it feels like your brain is short-circuiting. Your heart’s beating faster, hammering in your chest, and you feel your palms grow sweaty.

“C’mon,” he teases, reaching out to pull on a lock of your hair and twirl it around his finger, and you know, you know, he knows he’s got you right where he wants to, “help me study.”

“Gojo—”

“Satoru,” he all but purrs.

“Satoru,” you say, “what are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” he blinks innocently. “Just trying to find a fun way to study.”

You examine him carefully, try to figure out what, exactly, is going on behind these beautiful eyes of his. You’ve had— moments, with him. He fell asleep on your shoulder in the car once. He held your hand through a busy festival, teasing you about not wanting you to get lost, and later helped you get on his shoulders so you’d get a better view of the stage. The one time you agreed to accompany Shoko to the club, you remember his hands on your hips, his breath against your ear, the ghost of his lips to your neck. But nothing actually happened between the two of you. You’d told yourself that it was all a distraction for him, that he didn’t want more.

This isn’t exactly confirmation. You don’t doubt that it’s all in good fun still, and knowing you, and how hard you tend to fall, you should walk away while you have the chance.

But you really, really want to kiss him. Want to know what it would feel like to taste his lips, to have his body pressed against yours, to feel his hands all over you.

You always take the smart decision. This is not the smart decision. But…

“What if you get it wrong?” you ask.

Satoru blinks.

“You can, uh, spray me with a water bottle?”

You let out a brief laugh.

“Isn’t that a dog thing? That feels unethical, Satoru.”

He preens at your use of his name.

“You should take your chance,” he drawls. “Shoko says it’s really cathartic.”

You’re not sure you need catharsis, but you feel a little lighter now. It’s all a joke to him, clearly, and from what you’ve seen in the past couple of hours, he hasn’t seriously studied once. He’s not going to get the answers right. You don’t think he’s even trying to.

“Fine,” you say with a playful roll of your eyes, reaching out for a water bottle and positioning your chair so you’re facing him. “Who came up with the notion of civil disobed—"

“Thoreau, 1848, but the essay was republished with that name in 1866.”

You stare. Gojo gives you a lazy smile.

“Now where’s my kiss?”

“Um,” you say. You feel incredibly awkward now. He’s leaning back against his chair, with eyes that have not left you once since he’s suggested that idea. You— have to move, now, don’t you?

Very slowly, very hesitantly, you push yourself to your feet. Satoru doesn’t move at all, and you don’t know if it relieves you or stresses you out even more. The position is quite uncomfortable, too, with you standing and him sitting down. You don’t know that you’ve ever towered over him like that. Gingerly, you put a hand on his shoulder, and then you’re leaning over him, and then you’re kissing him, and then you’re moving away as fast as you can. This was just a peck, really, a press of your lips to his that lasted a second, tops, and that you’re already trying to forget about.

You’re not a teenager anymore, and you know this shouldn’t be getting to you that much, but it’s— it’s Satoru Gojo. You’ve worked very, very hard not to think of him like that, because you didn’t want to let yourself get hurt. And now, you’ve let yourself be dragged into this so easily? Ugh. You wish you could slap yourself.

“Okay,” you say, voice more high-pitched than you’d like, but still understandable, which you’re grateful for. “Next, um, can you explain what philosopher kings are?”

Surely—

“Of course,” Satoru pretty much sing-songs. “Plato thought that cities should be ruled by trained philosophers, because only a philosopher would know and act for the good of a city.” There’s a brief pause, before he adds, “Aristotle thought that was bullshit, though. For the record.”

And then he waits. You narrow your eyes at him.

“When did you study for that?”

“I never study,” he answers lightly.

Instead of standing up this time, you scoot your chair closer to him, and you lean forward. Satoru chuckles, but humors you — even if the temptation of leaning further back to make you come to him, because you’re just adorable when you’re flustered, is great. This time, when you kiss him, though, he presses forward before you can move away, his nose brushing against your cheek as he chases after you. And oh, what a sight you are after that, wide eyed, lips parted, hands tightening on your notes.

“Next?” he asks.

“Right,” you say. You’re— not sure what’s happening here, to be quite honest. Should you stop this? You— don’t think you want to, but you’re also not sure what this charade is all about. “Um. Spinoza thought that free will—”

“—could only be reached through knowledge, and that most people never obtained it.”

Okay.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a physics major?”

He raises an eyebrow, looking genuinely amused.

“Determinism’s a pretty big deal in science, actually, but let’s not change the subject here.”

You bite your lower lip, and his eyes track the movement like he’s starving for you.

You’re feeling hot all over, anticipation burning inside of you, and this time, you can’t pretend that he hasn’t done this on purpose. That he wanted to kiss you. You can’t quite reconcile the way you see yourself with that thought — how could Gojo Satoru want you, of all people? — but you find that it doesn’t matter.

You lean towards him once more, and this time, you let yourself kiss him. Really kiss him. You press your lips to his, soft at first, but when you don’t move away immediately, you feel him pressing against you, one hand coming to cup your cheek. His teeth pull at your bottom lip, and you let out a involuntary gasp. He doesn’t waste the opportunity to slide his tongue inside your mouth, and you keep inching closer to him, hands coming to his shoulders for support. You can feel yourself melt into him, and you curse your common sense when it leads you to break away from the kiss.

It doesn’t deter Satoru, though, because as you do, his hand slides under your knee, and next thing you know, he’s pulled you into his lap. His face is deliciously flushed, pink hue under the pale skin. He looks up at you, long fingers tightening around your thighs.

“We should waste less time like that,” he says.

Shoko likes to say he’s insufferable, and you can see why. Everything all seems to come so easy to him, and you’re defenseless against the way your heart races. When his eyes are on you, it feels like you’re the only person in the world. You’re not usually the type to indulge in that idea, but, ah, what’s the harm, as long as you know how to come back to earth later on?

You shake your head as you take him in.

“How are you even doing that?” you ask, mildly peeved.

“Haven’t you heard?” he grins widely. “I’m a genius.”

You roll your eyes at him. You’ve heard about that, of course, about how he maintains stellar grades without breaking a sweat. You just hadn’t seen that in application until now. In class, he’s usually asleep, or taking great joy in bothering the teacher. You’ve never seen him try to get something.

“Well, where’s my question?”

You sigh, putting your arms around his neck. You left your notes on the table, meaning that you might be less prepared than he is, actually.

“Descartes famously said—”

“Cogito ergo sum. C’mon, rational doubt is at the heart of science. I’m starting to think you’re just trying to kiss me.”

You do want to kiss him, but you have the self-control to shrug.

“Well, if you don’t want to—”

His mouth is on yours before you can think of how to end that sentence. He kisses you hungrily, hands gripping your hips as he tries to pulls you closer to him. Your chest presses into his, and you tighten your hold around him, fingers running through his hair. He grunts when you pull on it slightly, tilts his head back a little more to give you better access to his mouth, and when his tongue brushes against yours once more, you can’t help but to rock your hips against his. The friction makes you gasp into his mouth, and one of your hands falls down to his shoulder, fisting his shirt as you try to find better support.

“Fuck,“ you hear him mumble underneath you, right as you feel him grow hard. He pushes up against you. His fingers dig into your skin, one hand slipping under your shirt to run over your skin, leaving a trail of fire behind. It moves higher, brushing against your bra.

Against your better judgement, your hands travel down his body, tracing over his muscles. You feel him twitch under you, and when you roll your hips once more, with much more intent than the first time, he groans.

“Satoru,” you whisper, though even you don’t know if it’s a plea for him to stop or to keep going.

His eyes widen, and you feel him lift you up easily, pushing you onto the table. You lean back slightly, resting your weight on one hand. He’s red all over now, from his ears to his neck. His pupils are wide, his lips swollen, his hair messy. He looks like sin.

You don’t want to think about what you look like.

“C’mon,” he says. “Last question.”

“Haibara’s in the living room,” you point out. Even you know where this is leading.

“He’s dead asleep,” he merely shrugs. He’s mesmerizing, but you note that the glimmer of amusement that always dances in his eyes. This feels— serious.

“Um,” you say, licking your lips and watching how he bites his as his grip on your waist tightens once more — like he’s holding himself back. “Confucius—”

And then, the front door opens.

Gojo clicks his tongue and reluctantly steps back as you jump down from the table, beelining for the bathroom — you know that kiss is written all over your face.

You glare at yourself in the mirror. Your body’s still tingling, and you’re aching with want, now that release has been denied to you, but you know better. You’re supposed to know better. You take a few seconds to comb through your hair with your hands, and when it no longer looks like someone’s, well, kissed you senseless, you cautiously step back outside.

“We got you some fuel,” Shoko announces loudly, before getting shushes by Geto. He points in Haibara’s direction, who’s started snoring slightly.

“Thank you so much,” you say sweetly. “I’ll— Why are you wet?”

Gojo deadpans as he looks at you but, well, there’s water dripping from his hair, down his chin, and onto the shirt your hands were fisted in just a few minutes earlier, so, you think the question is valid.

“He was splashing water on his face when we got here,” Geto supplies helpfully. “Gojo runs hot.”

“And now it’s all over my floor,” Shoko mutters. “Next time, just wait ‘til the bathroom’s free, huh?”

Gojo looks like he has something to say just on the tip of his tongue, but he glances at you and seems to swallow it back.

“If anything, I made it cleaner,” he proclaims, leaning back on his chair. “Shoko, how long has it been since you cleaned in here? We really need to find you a partner who’s willing to do that stuff, otherwise you’ll keep living in fil—”

Shoko’s pencil case lands right in the middle of his face.

“You absolute brat,” she spits out, “I can’t believe you’d have the nerve to tell me something like that when you rely exclusively on Geto to—”

The bickering continues, but you tune it out. Under the table, Satoru’s knee brushes against yours. It’s almost hesitant at first, before he leans his leg against yours, when he realizes you’re not moving away. This isn’t the smart choice, either, but, ah, you’re always, always the smart girl. Is it so bad to have a night of fun? Is it so bad that you want to know what it would feel like to have him, even if it’s just once?

He’ll break your heart, the voice of reason says in the back of your mind, but then Satoru looks back at you, checking to see if you’re laughing at how he’s making fun of Shoko and, well.

You think you’ll let him.

Any and all feedback in the form of asks, reblogs, comments, tags is highly encouraged and appreciated~ If you enjoy my work, interactions are what keep me writing and motivated!

I haven't written anything in months and I think it shows but, well, I have to restart somewhere lol, so I hope it was still fun for you and you enjoyed yourselves here for a little while. Thank you for reading <3

prequel

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x you #my writing #gojo imagine #jjk x y/n

371 notes · View notes

gogolatte · 3 months

Text

Kiss me hard before you go ✮⋆˙

✧ pairing: College Student!Fyodor x Fem!Reader

✧ nonnie requested: Hiii! Your work is amazing. If you have the time I'd like to request a collage AU Fyodor x reader. Where Fyodor is like the typical "star student" who is popular but doesn't really care much for most people in the school. And then a new student comes around who has the potential to rival him in both popularity and studies, but instead he falls deeply inlove (like, he is whipped) after meeting her during one of his chess sessions with Dazai (reader and Dazai are friends). But reader kind of only takes Fyodor's advances as a technique to manipulate her and ignores them. If you want to do a one shot it could be, for example, about reader getting in trouble with a teacher, first time meeting, a party, confession, first kiss or everything in one. But headcanons/scenarios are also greatly appreciated. You can take away some parts if needed and I'm okey with nsfw, if you want to go there. And understand fully if this gets ooc, delusion is my favorite poison :)

✧ word count: 3.7k

✧ contents: nsfw, fingering (f!receiving), praise, teasing, Fyodor is ooc, slight public fingering, roughness (if you squint). If I missed any warnings please kindly let me know!

✧ author's note: nonnie, I love you so much for bringing all of these ideas, they’re all so so amazing. I twisted it a bit, taking away some things and adding others, but hope you like it either way<3

The class was highly boring. The teacher's explanation has long been ignored by almost everyone inside the small classroom— Some people were chatting silently in the back of the class, others even playing cards underneath the desk and others simply sleeping.

Well, it seems like either she has very bad sight or just decides to ignore lazy students since they probably won't listen even after she threatens to send them to the principal's office.

You, sitting almost in the front row, couldn't enjoy slacking off because she would most likely notice and find it disrespectful, which would eventually lead to getting in trouble.

But the sleepiness was starting to get you.

You were resting your face against your palm, eyelids heavy as you fought to stay awake.

Slowly, the teacher's voice seemed to grow distant.

Before you can gladly slip into the land of dreams, someone kicks your foot, making you flinch awake once more. Turning to your side, Dazai was chuckling.

“I don't want you getting in trouble y’know? You still have to come with me to my chess session after class.” He flashes you a mocking pout before returning his attention to the teacher— He wasn't listening either, after all, he had earbuds on.

Oh, right, you promised Dazai to go to his chess session because he "would feel lonely if his bestie is not there”. Actually, he probably just wanted to show off his abilities since he knew you lack of understanding in chess. At least that's what you thought.

Dazai told you he usually has this session with Dostoevsky, the top student with the best grades on campus. Nobody truly knows who of the two is the best, but no one can deny their big brains. You inevitably roll your eyes at the thought of two smarties having a deep conversation in front of you during their chess game.

The two of them were popular, though Fyodor doesn't seem to care about it. He doesn't want more friends than the two weirdos he's with, nor does he care about having a good relationship with other people on the campus— When someone asks him for help about a certain subject, he shoves them off by telling them “Go ask the teacher about it.”

Dazai on the other hand, it's much more social and gets along with almost everyone, but he has very few people whom he really trusts. You are one of them.

The bell rang, pulling you out of your thoughts. Everyone stood up as quickly as they could to leave this tedious class and get some fresh air. Sadly, you had to face yet another unamusing event.

You took a deep breath.

Maybe this wasn't too bad? You had to think positively. Maybe you could even learn something from these two nerds.

You stretched your arms up, relaxing your muscles and letting out a soft groan before standing up from your chair and putting your things back in your bag. Dazai did too, and after you two had gathered your things, you left the classroom.

You don't know Fyodor at all. Other than knowing he's fighting for the Top Student position with Dazai and that he has two friends— everything else about him is an enigma.

You can't deny you were at least a bit excited about seeing him perform his chess tactics. Despite your lack of knowledge about the game.

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♱ ˚₊‧⁺˖

After walking along with Dazai for a while, going upstairs to the last floor of the building, where there were empty classrooms reserved for club activities, you stand in front of the chess club door. The hallway was quite empty, and not a lot of people chose to participate in clubs these days— You knew these rooms were mostly for other activities that went from occultism to having sex. However the latter doesn't happen anymore since cameras were installed. You're thankful for that.

“Don't be scared of Fyodor. He won't bite as long as I'm here.” Dazai laughs softly as he opens the door of the room. His words only make you frown at him.

The room was quite spacious and there were a few other students playing chess too. There was a nice silence around. The only noise is the chess pieces being placed on the chessboard with each turn.

“You're late as always, Dazai.”

Your attention is drawn to Fyodor, who's sitting with his arms and legs crossed, one above the other; a stoic expression on his face.

He was wearing a black long-sleeved turtleneck shirt, his coat was hanging on the back of his chair, his hair was tucked behind his ear and you noticed that he had a silver necklace with a cross.

Your fingers twitch slightly and your heart beats a little faster.

Ah, he is prettier up close.

What? No.

You didn't realize that you were staring at him for so long until his dark purple eyes went to your face and he raised an eyebrow.

Fyodor eyed you up and down as if you were a piece of meat for him to enjoy. The way your body tenses under his gaze; hands sneaking behind your back, lips pressing together, eyes trying to look anywhere but his. All of it gives him the hint that you'll be a nice prey.

“Oh? You brought a guest I see.” Fyodor smiles at you briefly, kindly, before looking back at Dazai who was placing his bag on the floor and sitting in front of him. He was very calm though he was facing another smart man such as him.

“She's my lucky charm.” He gives you a wink and you roll your eyes, unamused. You sat in front of the small square table, arms crossed, ready to watch the development of this game.

“Shall we begin, then, Dazai?”

“Of course.” Dazai giggles, wasting no time grabbing a white piece and making his move. “Seems like I have the upper hand today.”

Fyodor smirks, his slim fingers moving so delicately as he takes his turn.

Both of them seemed very relaxed as they played. Discussing random topics, and speaking with difficult words made it a little hard for you to understand their conversation.

But the tension was slowly starting to build up— Each turn was beginning to take more than a couple of seconds. They were taking their time before making any movements, and the smiles on both of the men's faces were starting to disappear as they went silent.

You, on the other hand, were almost falling asleep like back in class. What was the point of watching them play if you didn't understand how the game goes? Plus, they were in complete silence, how was this supposed to help you learn more about their stupid smart brains?

Ah, might as well take a little nap then.

“Shit.”

Dazai groaned in annoyance as his phone suddenly vibrated, distracting him from the game. After seeing who was calling, he stood up from the chair and walked out of the room without even excusing himself.

Your eyes followed Dazai as he left the room, lips parted in confusion.

Great, now you were left alone with Dostoevsky— Well… almost. There were other people playing chess in the room too but they were minding their own business.

Fyodor sighs, looking down at the chessboard before looking at you and tilting his head to the side.

Of course, he was going to take advantage now that the two of you were alone. He was eyeing his little prey and hopefully, he could get a pretty reaction if he pushed the right buttons.

God, forgive him for being so greedy.

“Do you want to play?”

You look in his direction, blinking a few times in confusion.

Telling him that you don't know how to play was going to be embarrassing as hell. He was going to make fun of you, probably. But, you didn't know that he could read you like a book. So Fyodor already noticed that you didn't understand the rules of chess.

You press your lips together, avoiding his penetrating gaze that makes something inside you tingle.

“I'll teach you, just pay attention because I'm not going to repeat myself.”

You nod, giving him a shy smile before taking Dazai's seat while begging internally for him to come back. Was that call so damn important?

“Move Knight to e6.”

“Sorry— what?”

Fyodor raises an eyebrow, waiting for your move. Like he said, he won't be telling you the same thing twice.

Looking down at the chessboard, you try to identify who's the “Knight”— Which wasn't so difficult, but now you have to move it somewhere you don't know.

When your eyes move from the board to him, you can see he's smiling. Oh, god. You hope Fyodor doesn't notice the way your cheeks heat up under his gaze.

But he did.

As if reading your mind again. Fyodor stands up from his seat and walks behind you; One hand on the back of your chair and the other pointing at a square from the chessboard. Dark locks of hair tickle your cheeks, a faint scent of coffee emanating from him. Would his lips taste like coffee too?

You press your thighs together, lowering your head down a little as his chest grazes against your back slightly; you can't help but feel smaller against him.

“…Now, did you understand?”

His smooth voice rings against your ear; low as if he was telling you a secret. Hell. You could even feel his lips brushing against the helix of your ear.

“I—”

You're interrupted before you can speak.

“Well, seems like we need to continue this game for later, Dos—”

Dazai stops in front of you with his phone in hand. His eyes opened wide and his lips parted in surprise.

“You two are getting along I see.” He snorts, grabbing his bag from the floor. “I’m leaving though, have fun. See you tomorrow, Dostoyevsky.” And with that, Dazai walks out the door again.

You panic.

You can't be alone with Dostoyevsky again after knowing how nervous you get with him close; how you look at him with a dumb expression after he speaks because you're too focused on his pretty features.

Fuck. No, what are you thinking about? He's not that handsome.

Fyodor is a smart man, he's probably just teasing you with light touches to rail you up and make fun of you later for being so easy. There's no way you're going to let this man play with your mind as if it is his toy.

“Wait! Osamu!” You quickly leave the chair, grabbing your bag as well and leaving behind Dazai.

For a small second you turn around. Fyodor's eyes met with yours; he was smiling again. Your eyes widened and you swore you could read his lips saying “Goodbye, my dear.”

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♱ ˚₊‧⁺˖

It's been a few days since you last interacted with Fyodor. And, since that first and —hopefully— last encounter, you were trying to avoid him.

You don't want to fall deeper into him.

After Dazai saw you two being very close, he kept messing with you about it.

“You two would make a great combination. The not-so-smart introvert girl and the top student intimidating Dostoyevsky… top student after me of course.”

“Why do you blush every single time he speaks? Do you think his voice is hot or something?”

“I saw you staring at Dostoyevsky in class today, are you sure you don't like him, hm?”

What a nuisance.

Of course, you didn't like him. You were trying to avoid him at all costs. Doesn't that make your dislike for him much more obvious?

In fact, you were sure you hated him.

Each time he spoke in class he always answered right with that unamused expression and with that egocentric tone that makes you roll your eyes.

There was no way you could fall for someone like him.

You sigh, currently walking down the hallway to the library, hoping to find some rest and silence from the noisy students and from your stupid brain that had been thinking about Dostoyevsky these last days.

The library had an old tone to it; yellowish lights and dark brown old shelves that went from the floor to the ceiling. Two floors full of books from all the subjects any student could find for their projects or to pass the time.

Even if it was full of people, the silence was almost absolute if it wasn't for a few people whispering and giggling. Still, it was a very peaceful place. Sometimes you wish you could stay here forever.

Since you know the place very well, you went straight to your favorite spot in the enormous library— It was under a stair, where there was an old dark green couch that was kind of comfy, enough to spend more than a few hours reading on it.

You remember leaving a book yesterday on the couch, after all, nobody went there; it was after walking through a long-ass corridor and after a few turns. Who would explore this big library completely like you did? No one, of course.

Well… You were wrong.

“What the fuck?”

“Hm? What a wonderful surprise…”

Seriously?

You cross your arms in front of your chest while looking down at Fyodor who was sitting on the couch with your book in his hands. You were trying to avoid him and he was the one that came to you. Funny.

Fyodor closed the book, placing it to the side before leaning back with his legs spread and his arms crossed as well.

“Nice book. You have good taste, sweetheart.”

The hell with this—

You turn around ready to leave, but he quickly grabs your wrist, pulling you towards him until you are standing in between his legs. His dark eyes look up at you.

“Why are you avoiding me? I'm not stupid, I see everything, you know?”

He loosens his grip on your wrist, his thumb caressing the back of your hand slowly. From this close, you can see his dark circles and his pale skin. Damn, he looks like a vampire…

“It's none of your business.” You frown, pushing his hand away.

“Do I make you so nervous, hm?”

Fyodor grins, leaning back once more. His smug expression only makes you more mad and you're beginning to wonder if he's doing it on purpose to get a kick out of this like last time.

He can't deny that he's enjoying it; You're so easy to get riled up that it's almost boring. Though your pretty pouty face is worth it.

“Shut up. You're in my seat. Leave.” You tried to keep a stern voice but Fyodor didn't budge from his seat.

“I'm not moving. If you want to sit on this couch so badly, might as well sit on my lap.” He pats his thigh, giving you a smirk.

Fuckfuckfuck.

He was playing with you again, probably laughing internally too— thinking you're just a stupid silly girl who can fall so easily into his trap.

He was using you as his entertaining resource.

Fine. You might as well play along.

With a hum, you flop on his lap, getting comfortable and leaning your back against his chest to which Fyodor immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Such an obedient girl.”

You squirm on his lap, feeling how butterflies flutter inside your tummy. While trying to mask your sudden arousal, you reached for the book you wanted to read and opened it to where you left it before. While doing so, Fyodor's large fingers start kneading on your waist, slowly, as if he was savoring the feeling of your body against his palms.

“Are you enjoying your reading?”

You nod. The truth is that you can't even read with his hands exploring your waist and his pretty voice against your ear. You're only looking at empty words in the book, your mind not paying attention to the sentences or paragraphs.

Fyodor's hand brushed against your neck, and the coldness of it made you flinch. He pushed your hair aside, exposing your neck to him.

“Why don't you read for me out loud?”

“Why should I?” You shrug, completely leaning against his body again, trying to suffocate him or something— though it seems like having the contrary effect as his hands pull your hips to him.

“I want to know if you're focused on your little book or me.”

Cocky bastard.

You clear your throat to begin with your reading, but as soon as you open your mouth, his lips brush against the skin of your neck, leaving a small peck.

“Go on. I'm waiting, dear.”

Then, he presses another peck, waiting a few seconds before doing the same.

God. You can't react in this situation. Your body squirms with each touch or whisper. Your thighs pressed together and you look down at the book, trying to focus on the words but it's impossible.

“Ah—”

You whine, feeling his tongue teasing the crook of your neck before sucking on your skin. Arms wrapping around your waist again, caging you against him.

The air was starting to get heavy and you had already forgotten that you were in a public library; your mind getting foggy with the thought of what was going to happen eventually.

As he pulls away, kissing the new hickey he left, one hand wanders down to your thigh, squeezing it.

“You know you can leave if you don't want this, right?” You didn't answer, not wanting to fulfill his egocentric wishes.

“Hey, I'm talking to you.”

A hand slides to your neck, pressing a little, as he leans closer to your ear. He thrusts up while keeping your hips against his, trying to “fix” his position.

Ah, but you can feel his hardness against your ass.

“It seems like you're too shy to speak, so, let's do this; If you want to leave, just push my hands away from your body and I'll set you free…”

He chuckles, placing another peck on your neck.

“But if you don't want to leave… Spread those thighs for me, dearest.”

How humiliating; Your body was reacting on its own, and you spread your thighs for him. Without wasting any time, the hand that was on your hip slides inside your pants, lithe fingers finding the wet spot on your panties.

“Huh, how naughty.” You can hear him chuckling behind you.

You barely close your thighs again, feeling shy as his fingertips tease up and down your covered pussy, emanating soft moans from you. With your lips parted, he slid two fingers inside your mouth to keep you quiet.

“Suck on them and don't be loud, honey.” He whispers, kissing the back of your neck soothingly to distract you from the advance of his other two fingers over your pussy.

Pushing your panties aside, he groans at the wet and warm feeling. Coating his fingers with your arousal first before slowly inserting a finger. Fyodor rolls his eyes at the sensation— you were squeezing him so tight that he almost felt pity for your cunt; If you were already squeezing his finger so much, how would it be when he's balls deep inside you.

Saliva slips from your lips down your chin as you keep sucking on his other fingers that are keeping your mouth entertained. Trying your best not to moan out loud when his finger that was over your pussy began sliding in and out, reaching that sweet spot of yours with each thrust.

“I'm going to add another finger, pretty. Keep being good for me..”

Another groan leaves Fyodor's lips when you squeeze his finger at his praise. Oh, well, he was going to make sure to praise you lots then.

As his middle finger makes its way inside you and you whine at the stretching, his whole hand clads your mouth, not letting any noise escape from you.

“Fuck… Do you want someone to catch us?”

You shake your head from side to side, picturing how humiliating it would be if someone finds you sitting on Fyodor's lap and moaning because of his skilled fingers that reach where yours can't.

When his two fingers start moving, you're already in heaven. Grinding your hips and spreading your thighs further to give him space to go knuckles deep.

“Is my sweet angel going to cum on my fingers? Do it, dear, be a good girl for me.” Fyodor moans against your ear, slightly grinding his hips against yours as you approach your climax.

Your thighs close and you let out a muffled whimper as you come all over his fingers, walls clamping down on him as he presses his hand harder against your mouth, whispering sweet praises before sliding his sticky fingers out of your cunt and taking his hand off your mouth to let you breathe.

Fyodor is nice enough to push your panties back in place before removing his hand from your pants. His sticky fingertips tap your lower tip a few times so you can open up and lick them clean.

“Good girl…”

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, caressing your cheek, and you take the opportunity to turn around and fall to your knees in front of him, placing your hands on his thighs. You might as well worship him like he did with you.

He was nice to you, so why not be nice to him as well? After all, you were eager to see what's underneath his intimidating façade.

“Ah— Right now it might not be the moment, dear.”

You frown, resting your cheek against his thigh.

“My apologies, but this place is quite risky, you already made a lot of noise and people might be wondering,” Fyodor smirks before leaning down to kiss the crown of your head as he removes his silver necklace to place it on your neck instead.

“We'll continue this another day, I promise.” He tilts your chin up, leaning in and kissing you slowly, slipping his tongue past your lips and groaning against your mouth while his hand squeezes your cheeks together, not letting you pull away before he's done with you.

So he does taste like coffee.

Fyodor withdraws, leaving one last peck on your lips before completely pulling away.

“Goodbye, my dear.”

Giving you one last soft smile, he stands up and walks away, leaving you sitting on the floor with red cheeks and heavy breathing.

You look down at the cross hanging from his necklace. Now resting on your chest.

God, you want to taste his lips again.

#bsd #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #fyodor x you #fyodor x reader #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor x y/n #bsd smut #fyodor smut #requests.ᐟ #messages from the stars₊˚⊹☆#sinful thoughtsꨄ︎#fyodor.zip #bungou stray dogs x you #bungou stray dogs smut

440 notes · View notes

ot8archivesblog · 3 months

Text

Party

꒰ ͜͡➸ Pairing: Minho x Female Reader

꒰ ͜͡➸ Genre: College AU, Smut

꒰ ͜͡➸ Warnings: (Obviously) NSFW content, alcohol, mentions of drugs, cigarettes, smoking, drinking, explicit content, overstimulation, fingering, pet names, praise (like good girl)

꒰ ͜͡➸ w/c: 3,5k

꒰ ͜͡➸Masterlist

So I read this request a day ago and thought of it as really interesting because I'm currently writing a story which is similar to that, so I wanted to give this specific scenario a go.

You haven't mentioned which Gender the Reader should have, so because of the roommate being female (and as far as I know there are no mixed rooms) I will assume that the Reader is female as well.

This is actually my first attempt to write NSFW so I hope it'll be good and let me know how you think of it.

Have fun <3

(Not proof read because it's 1 am and I was too lazy so please excuse any mistakes <3)

Request by @the-unknown-daisy

Your bag hit the ground the moment you finally closed the door to your dorm room.

Your best friend was currently sitting on her bed, painting her nails, while you let yourself fall onto your bed.

"Everything okay?" She turned her head to you for a second, taking in the little ball you had curled into, before she went back to concentrating on the task ahead.

She knew you had been like this for a few weeks now and she didn't know what was bothering you.

You normally always talked with her about stuff like that, but this time you decided against it. Exam stress was getting to you and you felt as if you weren't doing enough, but it felt stupid to voice it like that.

You knew she would understand and support you, but you still didn't confide in her.

She had been so happy these past few weeks, always meeting up with Changbin and spending time with him, that you didn't want to spoil her mood with yours.

Changbin is a really nice guy and he was making her so happy, sometimes you envied her.

Of course you wished them nothing but happiness, but it often happened, that when you saw them interact, you wished to be able to have someone like that in your life too.

You weren't lucky with boys though. All your relationships had ended on a bad note and you were just annoyed by it at this point.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Are you getting ready for something?" Stupid question. It's Friday. There would obviously be a campus party somewhere.

Students could barely contain their desire to drink and party all week, of course no one would miss the weekend parties.

Normally you would go as well, not as often as your best friend, but also quite often. However you didn't really feel like it the past few weeks and you didn't want to drag anyone down with you.

"Yep, the party is at Changbin's dorm this time. I would have either spend the night with him or at a party anyway so it's pretty convenient." Your best friend answered, while she finally closed the bottle of nail polish.

"You're coming with me, by the way." She nonchalantly added, as she blew on her nails.

"Wait, what? When did I say yes to this plan of yours?" You tilted your head, confusion taking over your features.

Had you promised to go?

"Well you didn't. But I told Changbin I would bring you along. You've been quite down these past few weeks and I wanna cheer you up." She got up from her bed and went over to yours, sitting down next to you.

"Plus you know Changbin's roommate?" Of course you did. Who didn't know him.

"You mean Lee Minho?" Her face lit up at that.

"Exactly! Isn't that enough reason to come? He'll be hanging out with Changbin, I'll be hanging out with Changbin and you'll be hanging out with me." She beamed at you and you could only sigh.

Of course, like everyone, you thought that Minho was very attractive. Hell, their entire group of friends was. But you still felt rather down and meeting someone like him in this condition, wasn't going to get you any plus points with him.

You turned to your friend to tell her that you didn't want to come, when you noticed her smiling down at her phone.

"I'm Telling Changbin you're coming! He missed having you around too." At that point you couldn't say no any longer.

She was being so happy over the fact that you could spend the night together, that you didn't want to let her down again.

"Fine, I'll come."

The last few hours had been spend with getting ready and by now, you were already tired.

You didn't know how you'd get through the night, but your best friend was convinced that if you looked hot, you would certainly feel hot and she wasn't wrong.

You did actually feel better, if you didn't think about the tiredness seeping into your bones. An energy drink would fix that.

Your best friend was wearing a pretty white top, that stopped right above her belly-button and a short pinks skirt with high heels.

Her makeup was close to that, but not too much pink.

While you were wearing tight black jeans and a black top that had only one sleeve and also stopped right above your belly-button. However it was also V-formed, showing more of your cleavage than your besties top did.

The dorm wasn't too far so you made your way over there, slowly strolling through the night, which was immediately illuminated by the party lights.

The music was already at full power and you could nearly hear it on the entire campus.

Professors thankfully never minded, so they could keep doing their little parties.

You followed your friend, never letting go of her hand as she lead you inside the dorm, finally meeting up with Changbin.

"Hey baby, you're here." He pulled her closer by her waist and planted a soft kiss onto her lips, which probably would have turned more passionate if you hadn't been standing next to them.

"Hey there little one, I missed you." The taller male greeted you by ruffling your hair up.

"Missed you too." You replied while your eyes scanned the room.

It was already extremely full and it was only 11 pm. You didn't want to know how full it could get.

You had been to quite a few parties but you were always amazed how many people actually fit into these dorms.

They weren't small but they weren't exactly big either.

Changbin had been playing beer pong with some guys until we had interrupted him. So he resumed in doing so, while one of his arms was securely wrapped around your friends waist.

"Binnie." Your best friend whined and he chuckled.

"Sorry guys, finish without me." He turned to her and kissed her, before leading you two away.

"Minho just wrote me telling me he's on his way back with Chan." Changbin commented as he made his way through the crowd and into the kitchen, offering us something to drink.

"Where did they go?"

"They went to get the others. Jeongin was at his parents for a few hours and Chan and Minho went to get him." The older answered, while giving us two glasses.

Not even seconds after he had given them to us, the crowd outside got louder.

"Seems like they're back." Changbin chuckled and went to meet up with them. We followed him closely.

"Hey, look who is finally out of her prison." Chan joked as he side-hugged you.

You had become friends with most of them after your best friend started dating Changbin so this was pretty normal behaviour.

"Sorry, sorry, didn't know I was missed so much." You chuckled as you leaned into Chan's side, when your eyes found Minho's.

You never knew what he was thinking. Could never figure him out. He was a mystery to you and many others.

Chan left first, going to greet some friends while Changbin, Minho, your friend and you made your way to the terrace to get some air.

A lot of people were out here as well but you all sat down on the couch.

"Let's play a game." Someone suggested and everyone agreed on truth or dare. The typical party game that everyone loved to participate in when their brains were non-functional.

You were sipping on your drink while the game commenced.

Till now you had been playing it safe, mostly taking truth, as you knew not many would pick up on it due to being drunk. However someone did pick up on it.

"Three time in a row. You have to pick dare." Minho said as he leaned back on the couch, his eyes fixed on you.

It had been Changbin who had spun the bottle, so why was he interfering?

You said but complied, picking dare this time, which made Changbin grin.

"Kiss Minho."

You were left speechless for a moment. Of course you knew how the game worked, but you hadn't expected this from Changbin. He always went easy on you, which is why you hadn't really been worried when the bottle picked you.

"What, never kissed anyone? I won't bite unless you want me to." Minho commented, a smirk finding its way onto his lips.

You got up from your place, walking over to Minho.

People were sitting next to him so you couldn't do so to kiss him. While you were still contemplating what to do, his hand found your waist and pulled you onto his lap.

"Not so shy." How could you not be, when you were about to kiss the Lee Minho?

Your thighs were on either side of him, as his hands still kept a steady grip on your waist. You leaned in closer, stopping right before your lips could touch his.

At this point both of your eyes were fixed on the others lips and you could feel his smirk on yours.

"What are you waiting for, Princess?"

That's all it took for you to connect your lips.

The kiss was slow at first. Your lips still finding the perfect rhythm to move against each other. However, it didn't take long before the kiss got more heated. He bit your lower lip, asking for entrance which you immediately complied with.

His tongue found its way into your space, exploring your mouth while you tilted your head to deepen the kiss.

It didn't take long for his tongue to find yours, his hands moving up and down your waist at this point while you could feel that you were sitting atop his member, as he got hard.

Your hands found their way into his hair, holding onto him as you moved your hips for a second, making him bite your tongue at the movement which made you gasp in return.

You both parted from each other, a delicate string of saliva still connecting your lips to each other, as you tried to breathe in as much air as possible. This being the only reason you parted in the first place.

The game had commenced while you two had been shamelessly making out and you finally realised that you two weren't alone.

You immediately got off his lap and went back to your place, however your lips were still burning with the feeling of his on them.

The game got boring soon and most disappeared back inside, including Changbin and your friend, while you were now sitting next to Minho, still outside.

He was smoking a cigarette right now, accompanying it with a glass of vodka.

You never really smiled but at this point and the level of drunk you currently were at, you were curious.

"Let me try."

Minho turned his eyes to you, the cigarette still on his lips. He seemed to contemplate it for a moment, until a smirk formed on his lips.

"Sure, but allow me to try something." You didn't really mind. He is Changbin's friend so you trusted him as well.

He took a deep drag of his cigarette, before his long fingers found their way onto your chin, pulling you closer without a word. They put slight pressure on your chin, which made you part your lips and you immediately understood, parting them a little more.

He came closer to you, your nose nearly touching his as he leaned his head to the side, to blow the smoke inside of your mouth. You inhaled, but he didn't give you a lot of time to think as his lips smashed onto your again.

The smoke not being the only thing that went into your mouth as his tongue followed suit. You held onto his shirt, returning the kiss while his hands found their way to your ass, squeezing them for a second before he lifted you onto his lap by your waist.

You immediately adjusted to the situation, sitting up slightly. Your hands finding his neck as you returned the kiss. Your tongue finding his, the fight for dominance not taking long as Minho immediately won it.

You both parted again, out of breathe. It was way too hot between you two. And you both wanted nothing more than to taste the other.

Without a word he picked you up, your legs wrapping around his torso as he carried you to his room.

His room was a no-go zone at parties like these. Everyone knew that. The moment he entered you noticed that the room was empty. He closed the door behind you two, locking it before he resumed his way to his bed, letting you fall on it.

Minho didn't wait for another second, his lips were on your neck this time, as his hands found your waist again. His lips were leaving butterfly kisses all over your neck before he finally found a spot he was satisfied with.

His lips latched onto the soft skin and he sucked on it. Gaining a sweet moan from your lips. He grinned, finally letting go of the skin, admiring the dark hickey that was forming.

"You're okay with this, right?" He asked, just to be completely sure, before you two went any further.

Your nod was more than clear, however that wasn't enough for Minho.

"I need your words, Princess." Those words went straight to your core and it needed a lot of self-control to not cum untouched.

"Yes, please." You didn't need to tell him twice. He removed your shirt from you, his hands immediately unclasping your bra as well as his lips found their way onto your chest.

Soft butterfly kisses littered it at first, before his mouth found one of your nipples catching them between his teeth. At first he softly licked it, watching goosebumps erupt all over your skin before he softly bit it, again pulling a moan out of your throat.

Your sweet sounds were going straight to his member but he tried to control his desires, wanting to prep you enough for him.

You could feel yourself getting wet and it only got worse the more he continued. You needed to feel him inside of you, but you could barely form thoughts, let alone words. Everything felt so good for your touch starved body. And it didn't help that Minho was so perfect at everything he did.

He stopped torturing your breasts, continuing his journey down, a soft kiss on your belly-button and you felt his teeth on the hem of your pants. His hands skilfully opened them before he pulled them down and threw them away.

Just as he had done with your shirt and bra.

"Already so wet for me. What a good little, Kitten." A whimper escaped your lips the moment you felt his hand on your inner thigh, moving closer to your heated core.

"Minho." You managed to moan but the boy only smirked as he moved your drenched panties aside to let one finger graze your folds. He was only rubbing them slowly, but this was enough for you to arch your back already. His fingers felt so good, you could barely wait for them to finally enter you.

"You want me so bad?" He looked up at you as you nodded as much as you could. "I will need your words, Princess."

"Yes, please Minho-..." A moan escaped your lips as his finger entered you. Your hands found the blanket behind you, as you had nothing else to hold onto.

He moved his finger slowly at first but the moment he felt you losing your mind his pace picked up, hitting all the right places.

You were so close to your release when you felt a second finger entering you. You pushed your head into the mattress, trying to ground your thoughts but everything felt so hot. You could barely wait any longer.

"I'm so close." You whined which only made him pick up his pace.

"The cum for me, Princess." Seconds passed after his sentence before your orgasm came crashing down on you. He helped you ride it out until he pulled out his fingers, licking them clean.

"you taste so good." He chuckled.

"You made such a mess, only because of my fingers?" You blushed. "Let's see what a mess you'll make for more." He knew he prepped her enough so he finally got rid of his clothes as well, letting his member finally out of its confinement and you understood why he had to prep you so good.

His member was a sight to behold and you could feel yourself getting wet again only at the sight of it.

He got on top of you, pulling a condom out of his drawer before you stopped him.

"It's fine, I'm on birth control." You needed to feel him inside of you, without a condom.

"Are you sure?" He asked, wanting to be completely sure that you were okay with this.

"Yes."

He threw the pack of condoms away, not wanting to waste another second on them before he connected his lips with yours again.

The kiss was as messy as the first ones but this time you could feel him positioning himself at your entrance.

He broke the kiss, his eyes finding yours. Analysing if there was any doubt before he pushed the tip in slowly.

Your warm walls immediately welcoming him.

"Fuck, you're so tight." He moaned as he slowly kept pushing his member deeper. You were holding onto him, your nails surely leaving marks on his back as your back softly arched. You needed him inside of you, all of him.

He finally bottomed in, giving you a moment to adjust to his size before he pulled out nearly completely only to push it inside a little more forcefully this time.

His groan and your moan mixed as he kept a fixed pace. Your back arched as his member hit your sweet spot every time he pushed it back inside of you. His hands holding your hips so that he could burry himself as deep as possible.

You felt so good around him, your pussy clenching around him as you felt yourself getting closer.

One of his hands moved to your clit, softly rubbing it as he thrust into you, making you scream his name out in pleasure.

You were happy it was so nosy outside, or everyone would have probably heard you two. It was impossible to contain your moans.

"I'm close." He notified, hid hold on your waist tightening.

"Please come inside." You moaned, wanting to feel the warmth of his cum inside of you, to fill you up with it.

"You you want me to fill you up with my cum?" You didn't have to look at him to see the grin.

"Such a needy, whiny brat. If I had known this we would have done this earlier. So good for me. You better take it all. Every drop." He chuckled as his thrusts got sloppier and harder.

You were close, your pussy clenching around his member which made him groan.

"Clenching so good around me, such a good girl."

This only threw you over the edge, your pussy clenching around him as you arched your back, your orgasm hitting you like a truck for the second time.

He helped you ride it out, his thrusts not faltering as his pace only picked up, indicating that he was getting closer to his release.

You felt overstimulated, your pussy was burning as you tried to match him but there was no need, as he came only a few moments after you had.

His hot cum filling your walls as he held your hips still to push his member as deep inside of you as he could.

His back was arched as he threw his head back, your pussy so tight around him that it felt as if it was squeezing every drop out of his members.

"So greedy." He chuckled as he pulled out, admiring the mess you two had made.

"I told you to take it all, Princess."

He teased as he noticed some of his cum sliding out of your hole, only to push int inside with his finger again, making you moan in the process.

Your clit was extremely sensitive and every touch felt burning hot.

"Min, mhh." His eyes focused back on your fucked out state and he grinned, pulling his finger out of you and in front of your lips.

"Taste our mess." You immediately parted your lips taking his fingers into your mouth and licking them clean.

"What an obedient Kitten."

You were exhausted at this point, hoping that he wouldn't make you leave now, but it seemed as if he had no intention to do so.

He pulled you closer to him, covering you both with a blanket.

"Rest for now, let's clean this mess up later." A soft kiss was placed onto the back of your neck as you back was pressed to his chest, his hands secured around your torso.

It didn't take long for your eyes to shut and for you to fall asleep next to him.

No one had ever made you feel as good as Minho had, and you were certainly hoping this wasn't the first and last time you did this.

409 notes · View notes

slasherbvnnie · 1 year

Text

Until We Found You | Part IV

Welcome back! This time we have the second ghostface smut. Part V will be out later tonight, but no smut! Just some pure angst and fluff. As always, heed the tags

Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Eventual Poly!Ghostface x reader, Eventual NSFW, All characters 18+, P in V, Fingering, Oral female!receiving, Overall smut

Part I Part II Part III Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX

Word Count: 2673

You had a good five seconds on campus before someone finally noticed. Before you even made eye contact with her for the first time that day, Tatum let out the biggest gasp she had ever made and grabbed your shoulder. “And who did you spend your night with,” she asked as you immediately blushed, covering up your hickey with your palm. “None of your business, tate,” you said as Stu laughed and put his arm around Tatum’s waist. “Maybe Randy finally got his shot, I mean with how scared you must be about the killer, maybe he offered some protection for you,” Stu joked as Billy laughed.

“Don’t get the dork all worked up, Stu, you might put one too many ideas in that perverted brain of his,” Billy said as Randy rolled his eyes. “I can confirm it was not me, sadly, one of us actually has a job instead of living off student loan refunds,” Randy said as the group put their attention back on you. “Well, whoever mauled you better show up at the mall after class today. I wanna see who gave you that, you know, to vet them or whatever,” Tatum said as Sidney nodded. “Yeah, and then we’ll get on their case for mauling you,” she added, making you laugh.

Your day was mostly spent around nervously tiptoeing around the girls questioning you on who you spent the night with. You had talked to other people on campus that didn’t include your little friend group but had never shown interest in them, so they questioned you on any and every one they knew to see who it was. “Okay, what about the guy who almost hit you with that football last week, Kyle? Kit? Kaleb.” Tatum recalled, “Kevin, and no,” you answered simply as Sidney took a stab at it. “Nah, it has to be Oliver,” she suggested, making you pause and show a gross look. “One of my biggest bullies in high school? No thanks,” you shrugged as Billy turned his gaze to you, Stu looking back at you through the rearview mirror.

“Bully?” Billy questioned as you nodded. Throughout most of school you had been bullied, not really by one group in particular but there were enough to only leave you with Casey as one of your only friends until senior year. It stopped when college came around, no one cared enough to bully someone they spent one hour a day with. “Yeah, he always bullied me, ever since second grade. At first everyone thought he liked me because they thought being mean to someone was how you showed a crush but after this one time he faked asking me out in high school just to stand me up, it came kinda clear he hated me,” you explained with a little bitter laugh, going silent when you noticed the awkwardness.

Billy’s face was stone cold, but you could tell in his eyes that he was angered. “It’s fine, I’m over it now, but yeah, definitely not someone I would let sleep with me,” you said as you looked away, not noticing the glance that Stu and Billy shared. “Is he still a dick to you?” Stu asked as you laughed, “I guess? I dunno, I find it more funny that he’s still got a grudge against me for some reason, but at least he doesn’t try to pull my hair anymore,” you said jokingly.

“How about we go in there?” Tatum suggested as you and Sidney both shared a laugh, “what? You have a mystery date and you might want a cute outfit for Billy sometime,” Tate said as you and Sidney looked to each other before looking at the boys. “How about you two run off for a bit instead of being giant pervs, we’ll meet up again at the food court,” you suggested as Billy and Stu were quick to agree. Their rapid head shakes made you all rile up with laughter, smiling and heading into the store together.

“Sooo, what’s your mystery dates favorite color?” Tate asked as you smiled, “I don’t know actually, that’s a good question,” you hummed as you looked at the different choices of lingerie that lined the store. “I think they like any color really,” you said as you spotted a red laced set, it was a bralette styled top that had strips running down the side to connect to the underwear. Sidney noticed where your eyes lingered and laughed, “they’re kinky, huh?” She joked as you laughed and nodded, “really,” you agreed. You picked through the outfit to find your size, wondering if ghostface would like it, you guessed they probably would enjoy the blood red color of it.Later that night you were in your bathroom, glad that your parents had left to have dinner at your grandparents, which they did very hesitantly given the incident a few days ago. When you reassured that with all your friends only a few blocks away and access to cars, as well as the marvelous creation of phones to dial 911, they let you be.

You found yourself looking in the mirror as you checked yourself out for the 100th time in the lingerie you had bought. You blushed and wondered if your masked killer would enjoy the outfit, running your hand slowly across the lace fabric. You heard a noise from outside, quickly throwing on a tshirt- one you didnt care about if ruined again- and pj shorts before heading out into your bedroom.

You peeked over your window to see nothing, frowning to yourself before sighing and taking a seat on your bed. But when you were met with the back of the costumed body looking over your vanity you let out a small scream, making them turn to you. “Jesus christ you scared me!” You yelled at them before relaxing, “no window climbing this time?” You asked as they shook their head, continuing to look around the room. You noticed their little glances around the room, curious as to why they were studying it. They turned towards you once more, walking over to you and looking you over. They were less aggressive than last time, using two fingers to tilt your head up to them. Their fingers were warm, which caught you off guard, just yesterday they were cold to the touch.

“There’s two of you?” You questioned, their demeanor changing quickly as they grabbed your chin. “I-I don’t know who you are, i swear. It’s just- y-your touch…” you spoke quickly, trailing off as their grip loosened. “The last one was cold, kinda felt like a corpse,” you said jokingly, “and you’re warm…plus you keep looking around like you haven’t been here before.” You said to them, their touch going back to just gently holding your chin up. They moved away from you, going back to your vanity and grabbing a small black bag, bringing it over to you. You blinked in surprise, looking up to them before they gestured to open it. You reached into the bag, pulling out a piece of paper that was torn, giggling at the words that were printed onto it. ‘Sorry about the last guy :(‘

“See? I would have figured it was two of you anyways,” you said as they shook their head. You smiled, reaching back into the bag and looking at your two new Carrie shirts. One was in the style as your previous one, the other a different one but still in the correct size. “I didn’t think I would actually be treated to a new shirt,” you admitted, hearing a chuckle from them. You didn’t say it out loud, but your heart was filled with joy knowing these two masked killers, regardless of not knowing them, were being so kind and caring towards you. You swooned, noticing how different the two seemed. The other one scared you a little, not really knowing their true intentions, but this one seemed so much more gentle and sweet with you. “I um, I also had a little surprise for you,” you said, noticing how they perked up at your words.

A blush rose to your cheeks as you looked up to them, adjusting yourself before sitting up on your knees. “but you’ll have to take my clothes off first to see it, mr. ghostface.” you whispered out, which made them grab you by the waist and lay you down on the bed. They didn’t take out the knife, instead their hands darted to the hem of your shirt and lifted it up to reveal the red lingerie underneath. A small groan left them as they quickly worked on taking off your shorts, making you giggle at the rush in their actions. You let out a little whimper as they groped you, aware now of how unintentionally strong their grip was. They squeezed your breast that was covered in the lace, their other hand roaming up and down your side. The lack of their touch made you whine out, pouting up at them before they moved to grab the final thing from the bag. A new blindfold, one dedicated just for you. They were quick to tie it, making sure you didn’t see through it by waving in front of you.

All you heard was a little thump of the mask and them struggling to take their gloves off before you heard the rest of their clothing thump to the ground. Before you could even take in a breath you felt their hand already cupping your core, their lips attacking the part of your breasts that were left uncovered from the lingerie. They roamed around before their lips were now on your neck, creating a new hickey right above the old one. You moaned softly, a shaky hand reaching to grab their arm.You could feel their muscles contract and tighten at the touch but when you made no movement to touch elsewhere, they quickly calmed down and continued their lust filled attack on you. They teased you over the lace panties you wore, their smirk growing as you let out little huffs and moans. The bed lifted, their frame no longer causing it to dip and your hand was left holding nothing, a small pout made its way to your agitated frown as their touch left you. After a moment you gasped, feeling their hands spreading your legs apart as they placed gentle kisses onto your inner thighs.

It was the first time you felt the blade, but they didn’t trail it across your skin like the other, instead they used it to make you exposed to them. Another whine left you, “you owe me a new outfit again, this was brand new,” you whined, they responded with a nip to your inner thigh, not doing anything else before diving into you.Your back arched on impact, their tongue on your clit as they spread you open with their thumbs. “fuck,” you moaned out, your thighs closing around their head to lock them in place in pure instinct. They were skilled at this, eventually finding the perfect pace that had you shaking and squirming. Every time you tried to shimmy up and get away from the pleasure, their large hands wrapped around your thighs from behind and pulled you back down onto their face. You weren’t even aware of how many minutes had passed before your thighs were shaking, only being held up by their grip. “Wait, fuck, you’re-“ the breath was knocked out of your lungs as they entered their middle finger into you, their pace matching that of their tongue as they thrusted it in and out of you.

A loud moan left your lips as you came, whines and whimpers erupting from your chest as their ministrations didn’t stop. “Please, please, ‘s too much,” you pleaded, clawing at your bedsheets as they just hooked their arm around your thigh and pulled you down back onto their face once more. It was practically like a scene from the Exorcist as you came again, your back arching off of the bed as you nearly let out a scream from all the pleasure. This time they slowly pulled away after you came down from your high, lapping at you one last time before pulling away and hovering over you. Your chest heaved as you did your best to catch your breath, smiling softly at the gentle kiss they placed onto you. You felt them snake their hand into yours, making you giggle as they wrapped their fingers in the spaces between your own. A smile curled onto their lips when they heard your laugh, growing even wider when you let out a moan as their free hand went back to your entrance. They still held your hand as they pulled back a little, your legs spreading more as you felt them running their tip along your slit.

At every swipe to your clit you let out a moan, gasping when they entered you. Within a second their lips were attacking your neck again, earning whines and moans from every bite, lick, and thrust that they tortured your body with. The pleasure was dizzying, you had never really gone so many rounds with someone before, the recovery time was practically nothing with how fast your climax was building up again. They were more gentle, their free hand roaming over the bralette you still had on, teasing your nipples over the fabric as they littered your skin in love bites. You were already regretting Tatum’s and Sidney’s teases about them tomorrow but for now, you accepted your fate.

Their pace was quick but managed to hit all your sweet spots, their hand that held yours was gripping you so tightly their knuckles turned white, which only brought you closer to the edge. Their free hand found its way to your clit again, rubbing it in time with their thrusts to completely overwhelm you. Your orgasm washed over you hard, the seconds felt like they lasted a lifetime as you did your best to come down from your high, but their continued sloppy thrusts didn’t help one bit. A loud whine left you as they came, biting into your neck to cover up their moan. They pulled out slowly, letting go of your hand and kissing you once again. Unlike the other ghostface, they laid down in the bed with you, pulling you against their chest. You accepted the invitation, resting against their chest and listening to their heartbeat as you recovered from your orgasm.

“Next time…do- uh,” you spoke softly, a bit shy to get your thoughts out into words. You felt their fingertips tracing your jaw, relaxing as their thumb ran over your lips. “Do you think the both of you could come by next time? You- uh, you don’t have to but…” you trailed off as they kissed you, feeling their head move in a nod. You smiled, heart fluttering with excitement knowing both of them would be alone with you. “And don’t forget the new lingerie set, please,” you requested with a little laugh. It was an hour later, ghostface gone and you freshly showered and dressed in your pajamas again.

Your phone rang, seeing Sidney’s caller id and answering quickly. “Hey, have you seen any of the police cars pass by?” She asked as you looked out your window, “no, how come?” You asked as Sidney sighed. “Oliver, the neighbors said they heard screaming and shit breaking and when police got there they said he was dead,” she said as you frowned. “Do they know if it was the killer?” You asked, “yeah, neighbors said they saw him running off. They tried going after them but they couldn’t catch up.” She told you, you sighing and shaking your head. “That’s so creepy…” you said, thinking back to the conversation you all were having earlier that day. You couldn’t help but wonder if ghostface was stalking you, if they already knew you and your past.

#poly!ghostface #poly!ghostface x reader #billy loomis #stu macher #scream au #poly!ghostface x female reader #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #scream x reader #scream 1996 #scream #scream1996 #billy x stu x reader #billy loomis smut #stu macher smut #poly!ghostface smut #smut #fluff #angst

2K notes · View notes

queers-gambit · 4 months

Text

Campus Breakdown

prompt: ( requested ) after a hard day, at least you can come home to him.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 1.6k+

warnings: reader's a graduate student, cursing, small angst but mostly small hurt bigger comfort.

The door slammed shut in a forceful rattle, making Carmy perk up from his place on the couch. "Baby?" He called, setting aside the magazine you left behind.

"Carmy?" You sounded confused, exiting the foyer to round into the living room. "Hey, what're you doing home so early?"

"Uh, pipe burst at work, left Fak t'deal with it," he sniffled, muting the television. "What's up with you? Or do you always slam doors happily around here?"

You sighed, "Sorry, I just - it's been a day and a half, you know?"

He pouted dramatically, offering, "Wanna tell me 'bout it?"

"It won't fix what happened."

"No, but it might help get it off your chest, filter a little emotion."

You nodded absently, "I think I might want a glass of wine first - maybe two."

He felt a surge of empathy in his chest, knowing that distant look in your eyes and the way your entire demeanor seemed absent, distracted, exhausted. Work often kicked his ass, too, so there was an understanding after so many nights you had let him rant and rave about whatever went wrong - it was only right to return the favor.

Carmy readjusted the pillows and coffee table, leaning over to light the scented candle you kept there; grabbing a blanket to prepare for you. When you entered the living room, you had stripped out of your pants and was pouring a glass of wine, leaving the bottle on the cleaned-up coffee table; sighing when you dropped onto the couch.

"All right, pretty girl," Carmy chuckled, pulling your feet into his lap. You readjusted with a small grumble as Carmy then tossed the blanket over you, but left your feet out for him to massage. "Tell me what happened today."

You held up a single finger, downing more than half your glass of wine. Carm's brows perked up, blinking in shock before nodding slowly when you swallowed. "Today. Fucking. Sucked," you told him.

"I can see that, and feel it - your feet are knotted," he noted, working his thumbs into the meat. "Did you sit down at all today?"

"Well, no, 'cause I had to work alone today," you groaned. "Lisa has mono, Brittany had to make up some exam, Benjamin apparently had a meeting with the bursar's office, and Stacy literally stood outside, fighting with her boyfriend - like what!?"

Carmy offered you a stale look in reaction to your story, "She get docked?"

"Well, yeah, I mean, I kinda had to; she didn't bus a single table, she didn't talk to a single customer, like, the only other person working with me today was Carl and he was in the kitchen the whole time."

"Doesn't sound exactly fair..."

"It's a shitty campus diner, Carmy, 'fair' isn't exactly in their vocabulary, but the tips are semi decent 'cause we have that 'drunk rush special'. Oh! Wait! That's not all," you hummed, taking another gulp. "'Cause why would anything go right on a day I worked the entire floor alone? Right?"

"What else?" He asked, turning in his seat so he could face you directly; still massaging your feet, but leaning his cheek on your bent knee to remain close.

"The fucking register went down."

"You mean the only one in the whole place?"

"Yep, of course! 'Cause why the fuck wouldn't anything go right?" You scoffed. "And it's not like any of this was, like, hidden, you know? It was very obvious I was working alone, the register was fucked, but do you think that made anyone empathetic towards the situation? No, of course not, they wanted to just pay their bills and leave. Which I fucking get! But like, what!?"

"What'd you do?"

"Took cash only," you shrugged. "ATM was still up and running, so it was on them," you wiped you eyes, sighing deeply. "Still bitched the whole time though, complained to whoever listened. End of the night, that new manager even docked my tips, you believe that?"

"Hold up - for what?" Carm snapped.

"Customers were that pissed, Carmy, so a few of them dined-and-dashed, someone had to pay," you whined, head tilted back. "Like I did any of this on purpose? Like I went and unplugged shit myself? Like I wanted to make my life significantly harder? Do people even fucking think by themselves now? Where's the empathy?"

"Nah, they definitely lack in that department," he chuckled. "Know what I'm gonna say, right?"

"Hmm? Oh, Carmy, no," you groaned, "I'm not working at The Beef."

"It's ten times better than where you work, baby," he pouted. "And I could use someone with experience like yours with the customers. Richie's not always the best 'face of the store', you know?"

"No, Carmy," you refused sternly.

"C'mon, why not?"

"You as my boss? And boyfriend? Fuck no!"

"I'm literally so nice!"

"Yeah, that's exactly what Sydney says," you laughed, nudging his stomach with your foot. "Baby, no. Listen, I appreciate it, I really do, but I get ten times the tips at that shitty diner than I would at The Beef, and it's right on campus so I lose literally no time."

He sighed, "You're only, what? A year out from your Masters?"

"Just about," you grumbled with a pout.

Carmy chuckled, "C'mon, baby, don't torture yourself. Get a new job."

"I'm not, I'm just - " You cut yourself off with a sigh, hating that advice (as if it were just so simple), shaking your head and finishing your wine. "I'm just dealing with my current circumstances, I'm sorry I came home in a bad mood - "

"No, hey, wait," Carmy sat up, reaching for your cheek to hold, "I didn't mean to make you feel as if I was shutting you down. Baby, I always want you t'talk to me, okay? I just mean, there's something better out there, and you deserve better than that place. I hate seeing you so stressed out," he pouted dramatically, making you snicker lightly.

"You're one to talk," you reminded softly, sitting up so you could nestle under his arm. "You're stressed out, like, more than 90% of the time."

"Hey now, we're talkin' about your day, not mine," he deflected with a small chuckle. "What if I asked around a bit? You know, a different server job? I can check out places close to campus, but you'd get much better tips and better customers at a nicer place."

You groaned, "Now that sounds nice." He chuckled with you now. "I mean, it's bad enough I have to deal with those creepy frat boys in class, but in the diner, I have to play nice 'cause they tip with daddy's money well if I don't shut them up. It'd be nice working somewhere they couldn't even afford t'walk into."

"See? I'm good for something."

"You're good for everything, Carm, shut up," you laughed, leaning up to kiss his jawline. "I'm just tired of this whole 'pay your dues' bullshit. You know? I get having to suffer a little to build a better character, but for fuck's sake."

Carmy pouted, "Sounds like a second glass of wine kinda rant?"

You pouted back at him, nodding, both mockingly making little noises as he lifted from his sitting position to snag the bottle of wine. You smiled as he poured, watching his face, loving the effect he had on you; feeling calm and serene, and it wasn't the alcohol. When the bottle was set aside again, he tugged your legs over his lap and laid one of his arms around your shoulders; keeping you snuggled close and under the blanket.

"What else happened?" He asked softly, kissing your temple.

"I don't want to sound like I'm just bitching."

"How else do you expect to blow off steam? Huh?" He countered. "You're not bothering me, I want to hear this, baby - all of it. So, lemme recount, yeah? Okay, so, you worked alone your whole shift with only the frycook in the back, the cash register went down, and that made a buncha customers all pissed off. Enough that a few dipped off and you had to cover their bills. But the ATM was good, so they could still pay cash, but they were still being dickheads, yeah?"

"Mhm," you hummed, halting yourself.

"Nuh-uh, c'mon, what else?"

Tears sprung to your eyes as your head lulled onto his shoulder. "It was just a really shitty day, Carm," you whispered, giving a small sniffle. "Guys are grimy and gross, they garnished my wages 'cause of those dashers - I told you. It was a fucking shit show! Oh, and a few bulbs blew all within 10 minutes of each other - like fully snap, crackle, and pop, blew out. So, I had to call the electrician, he took over 2 hours to get there, so, part of the back dining room was darker and this group of guys all decided to sit back there - it was so fucking creepy!"

Carmen frowned, listening to you rant and rave about how overworked and under appreciated you were. He held you tight, raking a hand through your hair, tracing invisible patterns on your upper arm; keeping you close as the wine slowly sunk into your blood. You grew less lucid by the passing hour, mostly the exhaustion sinking in, but Carmy didn't mind.

He just adjusted you both on the couch so he was laid out with you safely tucked between the cushions and his body. You had long since changed subjects; going from shitty work conditions to sports to your coursework load, then to The Beef, breezed over whatever Richie's daily attitude was about, then quietly debated if Carmy was taking the weekend off to spend it with you. Now, the TV was the only light on in the apartment, wine bottle empty, you resting on Carmy's chest; his arms tight around you, blanket tangled around your legs, both speaking quietly into the night before sleep claimed you both.

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

636 notes · View notes

skzstannie · 4 months

Text

"Do you want to start over?"

SKZ-> Bang Chan x Reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, exes to lovers wc: ~4,100 cw: arguments, mentions of alcohol and Chan's drunk, use of Y/N (soz, I tried not to), reader’s a university student

summary: a fun night out leads to a much needed confrontation

A/N: Hiii! Some romantic angst for today with Chan. I'm on break for the holidays, so expect lots of fics during the next few weeks!

Happy Scrolling! | Masterlist

"We have got to get out more! This is so fun!" your friend yells over the loud music playing in the bar.

The time reads 12:30 A.M, and as much fun as this is, you can't deny the fact you're getting tired.

"For real, I could go all night!" another one of your friends says, her arms swinging over her head to the beat of the music.

Your eyes widen at that- all night?

"Come on Y/N, dance! You don't even look like you're having fun." They grab your arms, swaying you back and forth.

You let them have their fun for a few more songs, allowing your whole body to feel the music.

The time slips away from you, the rampant atmosphere providing you a distraction from your drowsiness. Your alcohol intake is definitely a factor, as well.

Your phone rings in your pocket, bringing you back to reality. You unlock it to reveal Changbin's name. You haven't heard from him, or any of your ex's other friends, since the breakup. Not that you were expecting to, but it's definitely strange for him to be calling you now.

Figuring it could be an emergency, you excuse yourself from the dance circle your friends have created and step outside to take the call.

"Hello?" you answer, your voice timid.

"Hello? Y/N?" you hear from the other side. He sounds a little out of breath, a hint of panic coming through.

"Yea, Changbin, is everything alright?" you question, your concern growing.

"Um, kinda? I don't know," he responds, sounding distracted. He sounds distant now, like he's pulled the phone away from his ear.

"Where are you? Do you need help?"

"Well, I'm with Chan. We're in the park, just off your university campus. He's refusing to go home until he sees you. He's pretty wasted right now, but I can't get him to come home, so I figured giving you a call was worth a shot."

Your breath hitches in your throat when you hear Chan's slurred words in the background. "Is-is that Y/N? Let me talk to her."

"No, Chan, just sit back down." You hear some shuffling from the other side before Changbin's voice becomes clearer again. "Hello? Are you still there?"

You debate hanging up. This was not supposed to happen tonight. Your friends brought you out to forget about him, not go and see him all desperate and drunk for you. Somewhere in the back of your tipsy mind, you know you want to see him, to touch him one more time.

Your breakup was sad for both you and Chan. You were the one who ended it. It was nothing Chan did; you were just far too stressed with everything you had going on, and you didn't feel like it was fair to Chan. He was always busy with producing, and if he wasn't producing, he was in meetings or hanging with the boys.

You always had class and work, and you felt like you were starting to neglect your studies. With you nearing the end of your degree, entering your senior year a few months prior, that was the last thing you needed.

So, for the sake of both of your education and futures, you broke it off. It was sudden, and you caught him completely off guard with it.

You remember how absolutely heartbroken he sounded, the sounds of his choked up words forever tattooed on your brain. "What do you mean? Did I do something wrong?" He'd grabbed your hands, pulling them close to his chest. His heartbeat was erratic, similar to his breathing, and the tears welled in his eyes so fast you feared they'd spill over before you could even respond.

"I just think it's for the best," you had replied. You were cold and emotionless with it, trying to protect your own heart in the process of breaking his. You never did tell him why you were ending it. You were scared he'd call you ridiculous, saying that that's no reason to breakup, and that he could fix it.

That's not what you had wanted to hear at the time. You felt you were doing the right thing for both of you.

It had been months since then, and your heart never healed. You still loved him, but you were always too embarrassed to reach out. After all, it was your fault. You were the one who broke up with him, not the other way around.

You never heard from any of the other boys either. You knew they were a tight-knit group, so you assumed they hated you. You hated yourself too, in a way. You broke his heart into a million pieces and never even told him why.

You wanted him. You needed him, so so bad. You've been waiting for this moment for months. Sure, maybe you weren't expecting him to be completely wasted, but you couldn't let this opportunity slip. Your friends would be upset, probably tell you it was a bad idea and drag you home. That's why you weren't going to tell them the details.

"Where are you? I'm coming to get him." You hear Changbin's sigh of relief from the other side of the phone as he tells you exactly where they are.

You hang up and send a quick text to your friends who are no doubt still dancing up a storm inside the bar. You're brief with them, telling them something came up and you have to run home. You don't wait for their reply, hurrying off to hopefully fix the biggest mistake of your life.

~ ~ ~

"Y/N, thank God you came. He's been out of his mind for hours now," Changbin tells you as you walk up to them. You see Chan sitting on the park bench beside him, and his head whips up at the sound of your name.

Chan's eyes widen at the sight of you. He jumps up, stumbling a bit, but he's able to regain his balance. He's surprisingly quick in making his way over to you.

You can smell the alcohol on him from a few feet away, but you don't pay it any mind as he throws himself at you, his arms heavily hanging over your shoulders. "Y/N," he slurs, "You're here."

He sighs into your neck, his head leaning to rest on your shoulder. Your arms come up around his waist, holding him up. He's not putting all his weight on you, but you still struggle to keep him upright, his drunken state making it hard for him to stand straight.

You look to Changbin, your arms straining around Chan's body. "What should we do?" you ask him. You're not sure what the rest of Changbin's plan was. You come here to see him, then what? Take him home? Send them back on their way? You're not entirely sure which you'd prefer, to be honest.

"I wanna go home with you," Chan whines in response before Changbin has a chance.

"I don't know, Chan, I don't think-" Changbin is quick to cut you off.

"I'll help him to your place." He walks over to you guys, practically ripping Chan off you. He drapes one of Chan's arms over his shoulders, holding up most of his weight.

You stop and think for a moment.

What are you doing!? You can't bring your ex back home! Your tipsy, and he's absolutely wasted. Even if you were to ever reconcile, you certainly didn't want it to be under these circumstances.

"Changbin, I-"

"Nope, this is your mess, and you know you need to fix it." He starts to drag Chan in the direction of your apartment, Chan letting out incoherent babbles along the way.

You're still stood in the same spot, but you rush to catch up to them.

"Excuse me?" you let out in disbelief.

"You heard me," he sasses back, leaning forward to make eye contact with you around Chan's hanging head. "You know what you did wasn't right, and I know you regret it."

Your jaw drops. How did he know this?

"You can't just assume I've wanted to run back to him all this time," you rebut, draping Chan's other arm over your own shoulders to help him walk a little steadier.

"I'm not assuming anything. Your roommate told me. We know you've been just as much of a wreck as he has been."

You scoff but leave it at that. How could you argue when he knew? He knew that you've been struggling ever since, crying day and night. Embarrassment washes over your body, already planning out the conversation you'll have with your roommate about sharing your personal problems with your ex's best friends.

It's silent for a few minutes. You're nearing your complex now, the light from the streetlights dimming, transitioning into the light from your neighbors' porchlights.

"How much did she tell you?" You ask as the three of you approach your front door.

"Enough to know you need this just as much as he does."

~ ~ ~

You unlock your front door, Chan breaking free from Changbin's hold and stumbling into your apartment. You watch from the foyer as he trips over his own two feet, falling onto the couch. You allow your gaze to travel over to Changbin, assured that Chan will be staying in one spot for at least a few minutes.

"You ok?" he asks, his concern for you showing for the first time that night.

While your roommate never made it known to you, the boys had texted her just days after the breakup, asking what had happened. She had explained your side of things to them, and she made them promise not to tell Chan. She didn't want to meddle in your love life like that. As stupid as she thought you were being, it wasn't her place, or his friend's place, to tell him anything.

They agreed not to tell Chan anything, if and only if she agreed to keep them updated on you.

"I'm fine. Yea, this is fine," you rub your hands over your face, trying get rid of the tiredness surely covering your features.

"I'll text you guys tomorrow afternoon," he says, turning to head back to the front door. You follow him, seeing him out.

He steps outside, turning back around and catching the door before you can close it. "I know we sprung this on you, but don't stress out about it. Just do what feels right," and with that he turns and walks down the stairs, not waiting for your reply.

You slowly the close the door, allowing your back to slide down it. You sit on the floor, your elbows resting on your knees, palms holding your head up.

Your heart races knowing who waits for you in your living room. What do you say? Do you wait until morning to hash it out? That would probably be best, but what if he wants to talk about it now?

Heavy footsteps bring you out of your thoughts. Your eyes snap up from the ground, seeing Chan making his way towards you.

He clumsily settles himself in front of you, crossing his legs as he leans back on his arms, his palms resting flat on the floor behind him.

His eyes are glossed over from the alcohol, a lazy smile gracing his lips. "I've missed you."

Your heart flutters at that. You feel the familiar feeling of butterflies in your stomach, and you're not entirely sure how to respond. With the exhaustion from your night's activities taking over your body, all you really want to do is go to sleep. Your mind is not in the right space to have a conversation with him right now.

"What do you want me to say, Chan?" you let out a breathy chuckle, your cheeks flushing pink. As tired as you are, his words still have an affect on you.

"Preferably that you've missed me, too."

"This isn't the right time to have this conversation. You're drunk, and I'm tipsy and exhausted. Let's go to bed, and I promise we'll talk about it in the morning," you tell him, rising to your feet. You reach a hand out to him, offering him help to stand.

His face morphs into a pout, and he holds out his pinky towards you from his spot on the floor. "Promise?" his voice wobbles, tears springing into his eyes. He'd always been an emotional drunk, his vulnerable side surfacing at the mere sight of alcohol.

Pinky promises had always been your thing when you were together. Until this day, neither of you had ever broken one. It was honestly a really important part of your relationship. Your plans would fall through sometimes, or somebody would forget to pick up dinner, but if you guys pinky promised, you knew you could fully trust them. Him remembering this in his drunken state does something to your insides, pulling on your heart strings a bit.

You hesitate, taking your lip in between your teeth, but eventually latch your pinky onto his.

"Pinky promise."

~ ~ ~

"Alright, here's a couple blankets and a pillow. The T.V. remote is right there, and I'll get you a glass of water and some ibuprofen for the morning. Anything else?" You set the bedding onto the couch, smoothing out the sheet you had laid there beforehand.

"Hmmm," he hums, bringing his finger up to his lips, portraying a very exaggerated thinking face. "Will you stay with me?" He tilts his head at you, patting the spot beside him.

"I will not. I will be sleeping in my own bed."

He pouts at that, and you quickly turn away, fearing you won't be able to hold strong if you look at him much longer.

You get ready for bed, making your way around your apartment turning all the lights off. You flip the lights out in the living room, the television providing a soft glow to it's surroundings.

"Goodnight Chan, sleep well." You wait a few seconds for a reply, but all you hear in return is his heavy breathing, small snores escaping his lips every now and again.

~ ~ ~

You're awakened from your slumber at the sound of your door creaking open. Your head jumps off your pillow, abruptly sitting up in bed.

You let your defenses down upon seeing Chan's face, slightly puffy with sleep.

"Do you need something?" you ask softly. You glance beside you at your alarm clock.

4:43 A.M. Way too early to get up.

He doesn't respond, the only noise in the room coming from the sounds of his socks shuffling against your soft carpet. He makes his way to the side of your bed, looking down at you sleepily.

"Chan, go back to bed. It's too early." You roll back over, too tired to play any games so early in the morning.

It's silent for a moment, and you almost allow yourself to fall back to sleep, but you jolt at the feeling of your bedding dipping behind you. Chan pushes up against your back, moving you further away from the edge of the bed.

He slides underneath the covers behind you, his strong arm coming up to wrap around your middle, pulling you closer to him.

He's incredibly warm, and you can't help but cuddle into him further, feeding off the heat his body is providing you.

He lets out a long sigh, his breath blowing up against the back of your head.

You lay there, stiff as a board. Your mind wanders to all the nights spent like this when you were together. How nice it always felt to lay in his arms, comforted and safe. You breathe deeply, inhaling his woodsy scent you've missed all those months.

His breathing has slowed and evened by this point, and you're sure he's fallen back asleep. You do the same just minutes later, unable to resist the invisible pull of your eyelids, shutting them and allowing you to fall asleep once again.

~ ~ ~

You're eyes open and you're met with the bright sunrays coming through your window, making you squint. You feel around behind, the warm body next to you nowhere to be seen, leaving nothing but the cold sheets in his place.

You jump out of bed, scared he may have run off early in the morning. Scrambling, you throw on a hoodie from your floor and hurry out your bedroom door, rushing towards the living room.

You stop in your tracks when you get there, seeing him sitting on your couch, legs crossed over each other on your coffee table.

You stand there another few moments, waiting for him to see you. He turns his body, "Are you just gonna stand there?" he asks, the teasing evident in his voice.

You don't know what to make of all this. He should hate you. He should've left as soon as he felt well enough this morning. You broke his heart for God's sake. You broke his heart into a million pieces, and never even tried to put them back together.

You slowly make your way over to him, sitting beside him on your couch, making sure to leave a safe amount of distance between the two of you.

"Sooo..." you start as he clears his throat. You both laugh, the awkward tension slowly melting.

"You go first," you tell him. You weren't really sure what you were going to say anyway.

"I apologize for last night. From making Changbin call you, to making you take me home, to getting in your bed in the middle of the night. I'm sorry if I crossed boundaries, I mean, I'm sure I did," he looks to you for assurance that it's ok if he keeps going.

You give him a small shoulder shrug. You don't know if he really did cross any boundaries. He obviously didn't make you take him home. If you really didn't want him here, you would've told Changbin yesterday. As persistent as he seemed last night, you know he wouldn't have pushed that hard if you were truly uncomfortable.

"It's ok. I answered the phone call, I brought you here, and I let you in my bed. This goes both ways, and if I wasn't comfortable with it, I wouldn't have let it happen."

His eyes soften at this, his shoulders releasing the visible tension he's been holding there all morning. "Ok, good." He hesitates for a moment, wringing his hands in his lap. "I guess, I just wanna know why, ya know? Why did you end things the way you did?" His eyes meet yours, and it's hard for you to decipher the emotion behind them. Anger, sadness, regret- you're not sure. You're pretty sure they're all present to some degree.

You pretend to think, although you know in your heart you don't have to. You know exactly why you ended; if only you'd let him in on it a little sooner, it probably would've saved him a lot of heartache.

"I was overwhelmed," you pause for a moment, and he nods his head, encouraging you to keep going. "I had so much going on, school was hectic, my job had my head all over the place, and I felt like what I had left to give you just wasn't enough."

He doesn't say anything for a few moments, his eyes glued to his hands. "You could've just talked to me about it. I would've understood, and we could've figured it out." His voice comes out weak, like I've struck a nerve that was never meant to be touched, let alone toyed with and tore.

"That was exactly what I was scared of. I really thought that what I was doing was what was best for both of us."

"You don't get to make that call, Y/N," his words come out strong, his eyes finally meeting yours. "I loved you, and I still love you," he scoffs, "Can you believe that? After all the hell you put me through, I still love you." He gets up from the couch and begins to lightly pace in front of the T.V.

He runs hands through his hair, brushing it back from his eyes. Tears well up in yours, and you quickly wipe them before they even get the chance to fall. You don't deserve to cry. You did this to him.

"I'm so sorry," you choke out. "I regret it. I regret it all. I can't imagine how much I hurt you, but I know I did, deeply. I want to make sure you know that it wasn't easy for me, either. I haven't been myself all these months. I stopped going to my classes, and last night was the first night I'd gone out in months."

He stops his pacing, standing right in front of you. He just stares, and your emotions run wild when you can't decipher how he's feeling.

"I'm so sorry," the tears you tried to keep at bay flow freely down your face now, "If I'd have known what it would do to both of us, I would never have done it. It was a stupid, spur of the moment decision, and I felt like I had control. If I had the control, everything would be ok," your words break through your sobs, "but it wasn't ok, and I'm so, so sorry!" Your hands cover your eyes, your head bowing to your knees to hide your grief-stricken face.

He still stands there, in the same spot, just staring. You're too overwhelmed by your own guilt to notice him moving closer to you at a feverish pace.

He rips your hands from your face, pulling your wrist until you're standing in front of him. He forcefully grabs your jaw, bringing his lips to yours. The kiss is short, but you've never known such passion could be passed on through a kiss.

All the pent up anxiety and guilt melts between the two of you, your emotions mixing together like sugar and water, dissolving between the two of you until they're one.

He pulls back, his breathing quick. "I've been wanting to do that for so long."

You look at him, shock prominent on your face. "How can you do this?"

His eyes widen, scared he's crossed the line yet again. "What?" he stutters.

"Why don't you hate me? I expected you to yell at me, maybe even call me a few names. Why are you standing in my living room kissing me like all this never happened?"

"I could never hate you," his fingers run along your jaw before settling softly on your cheek. "As much as I’ve wanted to these last few months, just to help myself get over you, I could never. I've been going crazy without you."

"How could you forgive me, just like that?" You're confusion seeps through your tone.

"Because you're perfect. We all make mistakes, and I've had months to deal with this one. Now, knowing why you did it makes it all the easier."

You still just stare at him, almost expecting him to say "Just kidding", laugh in your face, and run out the door.

But he doesn't. He's still standing in front of you, holding your face so gently that you can barely feel his calloused hand, his fingers gently caressing your cheek.

"I know this is a lot, and maybe I'm crazy, but do you want to start over?"

Your confusion becomes more evident, your brows furrowing lightly.

"Let's redo all our firsts. Our first date, our first kiss, our first 'I love you'. I'm willing to move past this if you are."

His eyes are filled with hope, sparkling in the light coming in from the window.

"I don't know Chan..." you trail off, "I'm not sure I can ever forgive myself. I hate what I did to you, and I've hated myself ever since because of it. I don't know how to come to terms with your forgiveness when I don't deserve it."

"We can work through it together. I will be there with you every step of the way. I promise, pinky promise," he's persistent, his pinky reaching out towards yours.

You stare at his hand, remembering how nicely your hands fit together. That's how everything feels with Chan. Your body has always fit perfectly with his, your personalities meshing like nothing you've ever experienced before.

"So what do you say?" your gaze raises until it meets his, and you realize you'll never be able to say no to those eyes. "Will you go on a date with me?" His smile widens, his pearly teeth on full display.

"I think- I think I'd like that a lot."

610 notes · View notes

scar-crossedlvrs · 10 months

Note

Older Leon you say? 🫣🫣🫣🫣

How about RE6 Leon coming to get you after your lectures ends, just imagine him leaning on his bike with his arms crossed, and when you call out to him he has the biggest smile while calling you baby. 😩😩😩😩 Leon then takes reader out on a date on his bike (assignments? Nahh those can wait, a date with that sexy old man is more important.)

Leon S. Kennedy -

imagine being able to title things. couldn’t. be me.

This was too sweet, I’m too soft for this man. Anyway, while this was intended for an age gap i 100% believe it doesn't have to be because you can go to school at any point in your life <3, sincerely a college student in her l8 twenties. I'm also super aware that finals season is pretty much over for everyone, but like?? it made sense in my head to focus on it?

cw for implied age gap. gentle reminder that all of my works sfw or not are intended for 18+ audiences.

You couldn’t help but struggle to pay attention to the exam in front of you. Everything was too loud, the clock ticking on the wall, the sound of fellow students scribbling answers on their own exams, the loud breathing of the person sitting next to you. All of it kept you from actually focusing on the questions in front of you.

But what bothered you more than the noise, was the radio silence of your phone. It had been quiet all morning. He was supposed to be coming home today, and apparently he hadn’t even the mind to send you a good luck text.

Rude.

Shaking the thought from your mind, you forced yourself to pay attention to the task at hand. You had to at least try and pass this final. Scolding him would have to come after, while you were studying for the second and final test of the day. Before too long, you’re scribbling answers down with only a slight tinge of uncertainty.

You finish just in time, turning in your exam and escaping the stuffy lecture hall in a hurry. You didn’t stop until you stepped out the main doors of the building and into the bright midday sun.

You notice the bike first, parked on the curb. The sleek black Ducati that you’d recognize anywhere. A smile curls at your lips as you spot the owner, his back facing you with arms crossed and head hanging low. Despite that, you’d recognize those leather clad shoulders anywhere.

“Leon.”

Your voice rings out across campus and you can see the man shift from his spot against the bike. Head snaps up, his tired eyes turning to see you jogging towards him. You can see the smile tugging at his lips as he pushes off the bike, moving around it to meet you as you approach.

“There you are, baby. Sorry I lost my phone at work.”

So he hadn’t forgotten

Arms wrap around your waist as you reach up to kiss him, the annoyance from earlier slipping your mind as you press your lips to his.

“You know, you’re giving off creepy old man vibes, right.” you tease softly, “Hovering around a college campus like this.”

“There’s nothing creepy about just wanting to see you.” he shrugged casually, letting go of you to reach for the helmet on the back of his bike and holding it out to you, indicating that he wanted you to leave with him. Eying it hesitantly you shake your head.

“Lee I’ve got an exam in two hours.”

“So?” His words are punctuated by silence as he urges the helmet into your hands.

“So I need to study, and from the looks of it you need to sleep.” you finally say, trying to push the helmet back towards him.

“I can sleep later, let me help you study over some lunch.”

You pause for a moment before your hands close around the motorcycle helmet. “Fine, but if I’m late you’re paying for the class next semester when I have to take it again.”

Triumphant, he doesn’t say anything more as he mounts the bike. You slip the helmet over your head, settling behind him with your arms wrapped snugly around his waist as you pulled yourself close to his back.

Some nagging feeling in the back of your head told you that you weren’t going to be doing a lot of studying.

#leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil x reader #tea writes things

1K notes · View notes

saiidahyunie · 4 months

Text

closer than we've ever been

minatozaki sana x reader ; fluffy, suggestive-ish?

synopsis: the newsroom is always a good time with your best friend and coworker sana, but maybe there’s something more happening when the cameras aren’t rolling.

wc: 5.9k

warnings: cursing ; mentions of food and alcohol

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ : closer by rm

a/n: had a bit of a writing slump the past couple days, but this is one of the two long fics i have planned out and i hope you guys enjoy reading this one!!

sana in a suit sana in a suit sana in a suit sana in a suit sana in a suit sana in a suit omgomgomg its sana in a suit imgonna

—

“what do you know about journalism?”

you look up from your laptop, glasses hanging from the slim bridge of your nose as sana sits across the table wearing a proud smile, awaiting for your critical opinion.

“well it’s competitive, scrappy, and most of the media outlets are at each other’s throats most of the time.” you answer, pulling your specs off of your face as sana straightens herself on the seat outside of a local cafe on your college campus.

sana leans with her head on hand, staring as you go back to continuing work on your laptop. she was aware that you were editing a short video project that you did all yourself with only a phone and a drone. sana sees the perching eyelashes at the bottom of your eyes, the few strands of hair that hovered over your forehead almost mimicking bangs, flashing your eyes at her again, raising your eyebrows as she squints at you—a defense mechanism of her sort.

“you should consider taking the internship with the local production team in your editing class.”

“sana, we’ve been over this, i’m only doing this video recording thing as a hobby.”

“but imagine the good camera work you’ve shown me!” sana starts off, “you can actually get a good decent paying job with the skills that you have now!”

you lean back from your laptop again, pondering at the proposition that sana had laid out in front of you. rubbing your chin as you consider the many benefits that might come with the offer. the pay would be fine temporarily, but it was the amount of connections that you can branch out from to get more opportunities to showcase your recording and editorial work—sana was good, she backed you into a corner as you smirked at the thought.

“you really want to do this news job sana?” you ask sana as her eyes widen at the question, nodding profusely as you let out a soft laugh at her eagerness.

“trust me y/n, just imagine us working at the same job together. it’ll be great!”

“alright, i hear ya. where do we sign up?”

—

minatozaki sana was a person who was always looking for an adventure.

the first time you met her was back in your second year of high school as you were a new transfer student that just moved into town. it had already been about two or three weeks into the academic year, but the transition wasn’t that overwhelming for you since you were already accustomed to being moved around different towns in short spans of time.

“everyone! we have a new student joining us today.” your english teacher announced to the class. mr. taecyeon was very fond and super nice, so just by meeting him in the first few seconds you didn’t have any worry as you stood at the front of the classroom, clutching the right strap of your backpack as you scanned the five rows of faces that gave you faint smiles.

“nice to meet you all, my name is y/n.”

sana was sitting in the back of the classroom as she raised her head up, noticing your calm silver voice with her ears, flashing a look as she took note of your outfit as you wore a simple grey hoodie with tan cargo pants. sana also notices that you were a little bit taller than you looked–given that she was sitting down as she leaned over to the right side of her desk to get a better look at you. you notice a person sticking out as you accidentally meet eyes with sana, looking in a different direction right away while mr. taecyeon stood next to you.

“alright y/n we already have assigned seats, but you can go ahead and have the empty seat next to sana in the back row.” mr. taecyeon instructed, putting his arm out showing you the desk in the fourth row, sana sitting on the right at the back corner.

you briskly walk over to the back of the classroom, sneakers squeaking lightly as you set your bag down before seating promptly on the chair. you look over to sana as she does the same, both of you smiling as you bow as a way of acknowledging each other's presence before diverting your attention back to the front of the class.

“now, y/n i know that you’re new so don’t worry we’ll get you up to speed in due time.” mr. taceyeon says, holding an open book flatly on his large palm. “for now you can look over to sana’s book that way you can see what we're going over with in the class currently.”

you and sana both nod at the teacher’s request, scooting your chair over closer to sana as you observe the different items she had on her desk. a hello kitty pencil pouch, a minimal pen with a cat raising its paw up with the tail as the main button to activate the pen, and a small molang rabbit plush sitting upright against the other student’s chair sitting in front of you.

“i like the stationery you have, it’s cute.” you whisper to sana as sana looks at you with a dorky expression.

“why thank you y/n. i appreciate the compliment.”

you could immediately tell that sana was very bright and charming given the way her voice sounded. she also looked beautiful, easy on the eye, someone that is inviting—you had nothing to worry about as you and her continued to read on the textbook sitting on the desk.

your eyes trail off to her binder set on the floor, noticing that she had different cutouts of newspaper headlines and quotes. it was peculiar to look at as you tapped her arm to get her attention.

“what’s with the ripped newspapers on your binder?”

“i have a thing with old newspaper articles, i want to be a reporter and journalist in the future.”

you were intrigued with her profession as you nod at the answer question you just received, placing your eyes back on the words of the textbook, reading along as you follow the lecture that mr. taecyeon was giving the class.

after forty minutes, the bell rang. the hallway now flooding with students scrambling their way to the next class as you and sana walk out of mr. taecyeon’s class, you leading the way as sana sees the small pink kirby keychain hanging from your bottom zipper.

“i like your keychain choice, i have a friend named mina who plays video games a lot and also likes kirby.” sana says, you turn around to face square with her as a small lump forms in your throat.

“oh, thank you.” you reply, “i’ve had this since kindergarten so it’s been stuck with me for forever really.” gazing in the sea of heads as you return your face to sana’s. she was wearing an all black outfit with a fitted sweater, her light brown hair contrasting the scheme as beams an appealing smile at you again.

“where’s your next class y/n?”

you had to pause for a second before remembering your new class schedule, “i have biology with mrs. jackson upstairs.” you answer, pointing your finger up to the ceiling as sana parts her lips open at your action.

“ah i see. my locker is actually next to her class, so i’ll walk with you if that’s okay.”

“i don’t mind at all sana, i actually don’t know my way around the school at all so i need all the help i can get.” you say, breaking into a light laugh.

you hear her laugh again, matching hers as you two begin to make your way to the set of stairs down the hallway. it was a quick trip, but you definitely enjoyed the company as you reached the bio class on the second floor, sana stopping at her locker right before the classroom.

“i guess i’ll see you later?” you ask sana, backing up into the open door as sana nods at your question.

“do you wanna have lunch together?” sana abruptly asks you, stopping in your tracks at her offer.

“sure!” you answer without hesitating, “i’ll see you at the cafeteria then?”

“you bet, y/n. see you at lunch.”

—

so that’s how it started really. kind of poetic that sana would be the one to convince you to take the open camerawoman job in the same news outlet that she was working for as a reporter and part-time journalist.

the years of friendship don’t say enough of how much you and sana have grown close with each other. you and her realize that the bond that was built was one of those rare friendships that isn’t really seen much around these days—almost as if in another universe you and her would always be together somehow.

sana learned early on that you always had a thing for cameras—recording or taking pictures of anything and everything to capture the moment. you learn that sana was engaged with a lot of the high school extracurricular activities, even being asb leader during senior year of high school. it wasn’t a surprise that she earned the title of “most likely to be a news anchor or reporter” in the yearbook and you egged her on for that.

separate ways was not an option between you two, so you and sana were extremely happy when you and her got accepted at the same college. you majoring in filmmaking and camera work while sana was dead focused on being a journalist.

in between those years of hanging out together or with friends, there’s hidden glances of a potential interest—mostly from sana as you were totally oblivious to her looks because it was so natural of her to be bubbly.

maybe there could be something more, but for now it’s just admiration.

—

“sana! i want you to meet our newest swinger for the camera crew.” the manager dino says to her as he brings you in front of sana. “y/n here told me that she already knows you-”

“of course dino, we’ve known each other for many years now.” sana says with a small laugh as you look away with one eye closed, smirking with the left side of your face.

“good to know! i’ll leave you with her and you can catch her up to speed, she’ll be accompanying you when you head out with your assigned tasks.” dino says brightly as he bows slightly before scouting the room for another potential person/victim to work with.

while he exits himself, you walk forward, twining your fingers with sana’s as you both freak out quietly in small celebration.

“see?! i told you that your portfolio was a good thing to convince them with.”

“sana, it was a last minute job opening. i’m even surprised that they hired me on the spot.” you say you hear your name being called over to one of the neighboring cameras.

“y/n, we’re gonna start rolling soon!” you hear one of the workers say to you as you flash a loving smile at sana, hands still entangled with hers.

“you’re subbing for the anchor?”

“yeah, but i’ve done it already before once so it happens.” sana replies as she lets go of your hands.

“see you in the break room?”

“save a cup of coffee for me.”

—

you learn very quickly that the dream news job that sana always talked to you about when hanging out, it was a hidden world that you didn’t think that you’d get hooked into.

every day in the studio had something new for you to get your hands messy with. one day you had to record behind the main camera for the news desk since the person that was supposed to be on it was out sick. you had no idea how to work the damn thing, but as long as you had the lens pointed at the anchors and there was a big red recording button for you to press, it would be an easy task to do.

then there was the whole editing room incident, that bumped up your area of expertise that you didn’t even mention when you first applied for the camerawoman job.

“this damn panel is bugging out on me again!” sana hears in the room behind as she walks past it, with a cup of warm coffee in her hand after shooting today’s report for the afternoon. she pops her head in to see a set of legs on the floor, knees pointing upward as she was now curious to see what was the problem.

“something wrong chan?” sana asks the person laying on the floor, half of their body under the desk as he pops back up to see their well acquainted coworker for roughly about two months.

“the secondary main computer and this panel here have been tripping out all morning.” bangchan answers, slapping the computer flatly with his hand as he fiddles with the knobs on the mixer set next to the malfunctioning computer. “we’re very lucky that this didn’t trip out during recording just now.”

“are you sure that it’s the computer and not the main mixer panel?” sana asks bangchan, leaning back on the desk behind her as bangchan goes under again with a flashlight to see if anything was out of place in terms of wires beneath.

“i don’t know, but i called a couple people over already to come look at this so they’ll be here in a bit to see if they’ll fix it.” bangchan answers as sana blows a stream of air through her lips as she was worried that bangchan himself couldn’t fix it.

you got called to come to the studio on your day off, but given what your friend mark said on the phone with the whole rundown of the situation, you weren’t sure how good of a help you might be.

walking into the main recording control room, you’re met with a small group of people surrounding the computer as the people make a path for you to walk through. bangchan was sitting with legs crossed like a kindergartener as you look up to see the anchors in the desk behind overseeing the situation, nodding at jihyo and eunbi as they flashed a small wave at you.

“what’s the situation here?” you ask out loud as you look over to sana, who greeted you with an eye smile before you turned your attention back to bangchan who sighed out in exhaustion.

“the secondary computer has been bugging all this morning.” bangchan answers, “we were able to get today’s afternoon recording in but it could’ve gone bad on the air.”

“alright, let’s see what we’re working with here.” you say to yourself as you put your vintage dad hat on, cracking your fingers as you began to click and type away on the keyboard, opening up the main program of the computer and skimming through the lines of text before opening different applications to see if everything was working properly.

sana leans in closely to see you work through the stubborn computer as you look over to the mixer panel, turing it on as the many dials and lights started calibrating and recalibrating, you fiddle with the knobs like bangchan did before you look in one of the other areas of the mixer before shifting over back to the computer and run a subroutine in the main settings window.

“shit y/n, when the hell were you so good with computers?” a worker standing behind you asks as you continue to scan the screen swiftly as you scratch your head for a quick second.

“i dabbled a bit with some computer work back in high school.” you answer swiping the bottom of your lip with your finger before briskly typing away on the keyboard. “sana can actually vouch for me on that.” you add as all of the workers including the anchors and bangchan look at sana as she simply smiled and nodded. everyone was left in disbelief as the whole group looked back at you staring at the screen still as you did some last minute taps on the keyboard.

“i think i found the problem.” you say as you slide over to the neighboring computer on your left which was the primary computer, doing a few clicks as something popped up on the main screen—it was an editing software that had a previous recording of the news broadcast that was edited, but it appeared that someone was running the program while shooting today that was causing problems.

“turns out you had the other recording in the backburner of the main recording from today.” you exclaim pointing to the screen, “whoever was on this computer must’ve forgot to close the program before leaving the other day.”

everyone in the room exclaims in glee as small applauses are heard as you relish in the moment while sitting down. sana watches from a distance while her looks shift a little more differently at you. it didn’t feel weird at all and sana felt the warmth of your smile reach to her cheeks.

remember that unbridled admiration sana had for you? well all of that went out the window and was replaced with a change for something more. and this would kill sana if you found out the realization about this moment from her.

even in the dimly lit room, your smile under the cap had become even more beautiful for sana to stare at as you spin around the group of people in your chair like a kid being surprised at their birthday party. the eyes through your glasses were wider than ufo saucers and even with the hat on it made you infinitely cuter. sana has been friends with you for years but this was the first real instance of her noticing your attractive appearance.

the way you humbled yourself with the subtle recognition really reflected how you were as a person who didn’t want all of the attention, but when you did, you took that opportunity to really enjoy the moment as you stood up with some of the newsroom workers patting you on the back. jihyo and eunbi tap sana’s shoulder, perking their head as they were going back to the breakroom for more coffee as they started to walk out. sana stands by the door as the blue big screen in the editing room that captured your silhouette, her heart skipping a beat as she looks over at your figure that captured your side profile nicely even with the hat on still.

—

sana is a really touchy person. you easily say that she can be touch deprived at times if someone doesn’t reciprocate the same actions that she’s doing.

you didn’t mind however, since you and sana would walk together when it came to classes, bumping shoulder to shoulder, tapping on your arm if something funny happens, and even just giving or receiving hugs with each other showed the immense closeness you two shared together.

there’s that one person that you spend a significant amount of time with to know everything about them. from the way that they talk to the way that they act about certain things. maybe you and her meeting that day in english class was a gateway to a deeper connection—more than friends maybe.

maybe.

you lean back in your ergonomic chair as you stare at the editing software that was on your desktop computer, when you hear the door to your workspace open behind you as you see sana walk in with the oversized comfy hoodie that you bought at costco to use around the house. you wanted to say something about sana stealing it, but in the shared apartment with her, whatever was yours was also hers (to an extent)

“can’t sleep?” you ask sana as she continues to trudge over to you.

sana murmurs as you face her still sitting down on the chair. “you have the ac too cold here y/n.”

you scoff as you look up at sana who strips off the comfy blanket hoodie, seeing that she was wearing a simple white shirt with pink shorts that were a little too short, but this wasn’t the time to ogle at her figure as press the glasses back up to the top of your nose bridge again.

“you should go back to bed sana, i have to finish this recording edit for dino’s wife that he asked me to do.” you say raising your hand up to motion sana away from you as she completely ignores your request.

it was so sudden, but it was so normal of her to do.

she parts your arm aside as she straddles you on the chair, her legs going to the other side as she nestles her head onto your shoulder. naturally without a second thought, you rub sana’s back as she quietly whines at you before sighing out in full sleepiness.

“let me stay with you, you’re warm.”

you look at the side of her head peripherally, but you kept your mouth shut as you pat the small of her back again, your hand sliding down her waist as she didn’t want to be moved at all as you roll the chair back up with the desk before typing away on the keyboard for the next couple of minutes.

exhaling out a tired groan, you close the editing program as you wrap your arms around sana’s waist again, letting the warmth embrace settle as you shake her to wake up slightly.

“sana, i finished. you can get off me now.”

“sana?”

no answer as you feel her breath on your shoulder sound asleep.

“you were always the light sleeper.” you say as you hold sana from her butt, carrying her in the same position sitting down as you walked to the bedroom next door.

laying her down gently as she adjusted herself in the mattress and you covered her with the comforter, turning on the lamp to get a good look of her sleeping state. you stare for what seemed like forever as you see her chest rise and fall in calming breaths as you let out a quiet yawn. you stand up before you turn off the lamp on the nightstand, thinking about how sana clinged onto you back on the office chair earlier as you softly smiled at her face.

“cute.”

you then turn off the lamp and head out to knock out on the couch after.

—

“do you like y/n?”

the question left sana completely off guard as she swung her head around to jihyo who gave a subtle smirk at her before sana tsked at her before laughing.

“jihyo, it’s not like that i swear.”

“oh really? i’ve seen you stare at her multiple times in the last couple weeks. don’t think that i didn’t notice too.”

“we’re just friends, nothing more.”

nothing more she says, but both jihyo and sana knew that was the white lie in all of this.

jihyo leans back on the counter in the break room as she was still not convinced about sana’s answer.

“are you sure? i’m not saying anything bad but you two look good together.” jihyo says as she reaches over for a cup of water as sana pats her thighs with her hands, letting the wave of nervousness consume her for a quick second.

“i’m sure ji. besides, i don’t even know what i would do if what you’re saying is true.”

“it’s something to think about, that's for sure.” jihyo replies as sana definitely feels the flush on her face more, “you never know sana, it’s always the ones you least expe-”

“sana!” your voice breaks the conversation as she turns around to see you at the doorway, thumb pointing to the right side of you as she parts her lips, tongue tangled in her mouth as you were simply smiling.

“we have all the stuff ready in the van, we’re just waiting on you.” you say quickly before darting away from the door and down the hallway.

sana raises her hand out to you but lowers it in a small loss as she sighs out, head looking down as she punches her forehead lightly, letting the thought get away from her as jihyo notices this letting an ‘ooh’ come out as sana looks back in annoyance.

“we’re not done with this by the way.” jihyo says with a mischievous grin on her face, “we’ll be talking more about this at dinner later.”

sana sticks her tongue out at jihyo as she walks out of the breakroom as you and her were assigned to cover a simple story before packing it up for the team dinner just after shooting for dino’s small birthday celebration.

—

the small shoot went swiftly as expected. sana only had to do the cover story in one take outside city hall and in a quick flash with a change of cars, you two were going to be a little late to the korean bbq dinner that was at dino’s favorite restaurant.

sana is no stranger to your sleek, sporty accord as you zoomed down the highway at a speed that made it seemed you were just gliding on the road. it was really a simple task you were doing, nothing different than the other things you do back home and at work. but this is you that sana was looking at, and you were hitting differently with your one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift.

a song was softly blasting through the speakers as sana hears the snare of the simple lofi beat, but it was the lyrics that made the ambience in the car a lot more intimate as she hears the lyrics of a woman singing,

i get a feelin sometimes

that i can’t get close enough to you

i feel most in the nighttime

even though that’s when i’m closest to you

if could be under your skin

closer than we’ve ever been

we’d be closer than we’ve ever been, oh~

sana reads this in a little too closely as her mind begins to wander at the possibility of how you might really feel about her, but she diminishes that thought away as she looks back at you slightly bopping your head to the song under the passing street lights.

the car ride went quickly knowing the great driver that you were (sana considers a career in racing for you as a joke) as you parked perfectly at the parking lot of the restaurant and entering inside to see two round tables of grills being occupied by the newsroom workers, dino waving his hand to get you and sana’s attention as you walk towards the lively group.

the night inside the restaurant was anything short of happy vibes and unrestrained laughs. jihyo and eunbi being the mama birds they were despite being intoxicated as well, keeping a close eye on the heavyweight drinkers as you switched back and forth between conversations. sana was sitting right next to you sharing a laugh with bangchan and another fellow camera crew person with yuki.

everyone was again left in shock with the amount of shots of soju you had in your system and you were completely fine. you assured everyone that you had a pretty strong alcohol tolerance as you grabbed another bite of the pork belly that was sizzling on the grill.

sana however, was a lightweight. and it showed.

she looked completely out of it as she was uncontrollably laughing at the stupidest things, grabbing you by the shoulders as she pointed at the tv that was showing a football game that showed a player getting tackled. it didn’t make sense but as long as you were watching sana enjoy herself and being super happy, that was all that mattered.

you helped sana take off her tailored grey blazer that left her in that nicely fitted light blue dress shirt, rolling up her sleeves as she hummed giddily at the touch of your fingers on her arm. you look at her again as she had her eyes closed, rosy cheeks piercing through her fair skin as helped her drink a cup of cold water to calm her down.

the what that was emulating on sana’s face was now spreading to yours as you place a hand on your cheek, confused at this funny feeling that you were having.

sana’s mind was fuzzy at this point, but she was still conscious of the actions she still had little control over as she taps your shoulders twice to get your attention.

“yes sana?” you ask your longtime friend as you fix her hair that was in front of her face.

“you know that you’re cute y/n.” sana says to you, her speech clearly slurred from the two bottles of soju she downed.

“of course i know if it’s coming from you.”

jihyo sits at the other side of the table as she notices that you were taking care of sana, taking advantage of her state as she remembers the conversation she had with sana earlier.

“hey sana, isn’t there something that you want to tell y/n?” jihyo asks her as she looks at her with squinted eyes, darting your eyes at jihyo as you try to grasp what was going on between those two.

“oh yeah that i like her?” sana says sloppily as her head dips down. you acting fast as she almost fell over in front of you. the words didn’t register in your head as you pat sana on the thigh to wake her up again.

“sana, can you tell me that again?” you ask the tired brunette sitting across from you, “what did you talk to jihyo about?”

sana then grabs your head with both of her hands, molding your face into a duck as she hums cutely again, moving your head left and right as you just let it happen. it wouldn’t be everyday for sana to get drunk with you but it’s what happens next that sends all of the alarms in your body haywire.

she plants her lips with yours out of completely nowhere, eyes left open as sana pecks your lips for a few seconds, tasting the peach flavored alcohol on her taste buds, scooting her chair closer to you before giving another kiss to your jaw before pulling away.

“i like you y/n, i’ve been crushing on you for a while now.”

sana says cherrily as you were left in complete shock. you just stared at sana as she just sat there happily, eyes closed as she hummed to the song that was playing above in the restaurant.

—

it was already past midnight as you carried sana on your back exiting the restaurant as you still were conversing with dino and jihyo as sana is drowsy on top of you, buzzing her lips and humming as you stand in front of your car facing jihyo and dino.

“happy birthday again boss, hopefully your wife likes the final video i edited.” you say, lifting sana up to rest her on your back more comfortably.

“thank you y/n and i appreciate the favor with the whole video situation.” dino replies as he puts on his coat and jangles with his car keys. you eye jihyo as she looks at you and sana, nodding her head at you to reconfirm with the supposed confession sana let out to you by surprise.

“i’ll see you guys at work tomorrow?”

“you bet, drive safe y/n.” dino says as sana taps your shoulder to get off, straightening herself up as you hold her arm just so that she doesn’t fall.

“sucks that you gotta play mom mode y/n.” jihyo says to you, giving a light smirk as you roll your eyes at sana’s sleepy state again, brushing a strand of hair away from her face and behind her ear as she still had her eyes closed but still conscious as some of the alcohol she drank started to wear off.

you help sana into the car, opening the door for her and putting your hand at the roof so that she doesn’t hit her head, sitting down promptly and leaning the seat back as she takes off her shoes to get more comfortable. you then put your blazer and her’s over her as a makeshift blanket as you close the door for a few more moments.

“jihyo, was what she said back inside true?” you ask her, heart thumping at the thought as it finally settled in your mind—your best friend had a crush on you, but you were finding out about this now but maybe you also had something in regards to her and you just didn’t realize it.

“yeah.” jihyo replies, “she’ll probably freak out about this tomorrow morning when she’s hungover, but i think you know what to expect y/n.”

you parted your lips as you softly exhaled, almost relieved because you took sana’s love with so much care as a friend, you didn’t want to worry what comes next because of the notion that your heart was already hers in the first place.

—

sana shifts in the passenger seat as you drive on the highway, the car humming lowly on the road. sana then opens her eyes slowly at the image of you driving as you smoothly make turns heading back to your apartment. the speakers were playing the same song you had earlier but sana didn’t realize that the lyrics she heard was just the intro to the song as she hears you faintly sing along with the lofi beat.

mm, i feel most in the nighttime, yeah

me never on your timeline, yeah

see you always in the limelight

keep me rollin’ in the deep, yeah

not a tease, no joke, i do mean it

don’t cease, baby don’t, why you floatin’?

wanna lock you up my sight

but you run away like fish, yeah~

sana was fond of your nice voice when it came to singing whenever you guys hung out together doing homework or chilling out, but she was surprised that you could rap out the lyrics so seamlessly as she kept her eyes on you in the dark covered by the blazers as you continued to sing.

the next part of the song was something that you could relate to—as it was the growing crush of your best friend that you were working at the same job at with the same profession.

you look at sana and not at the road (dangerously) as she meets yours under the blazers,

i keep you right next to me

only just in my dream

i see you in red, blue, green

don’t wake me up from sleep

i think i’m losin’ my grip

everything off the beam

why you showed up in my life

like this so sudden, oh god, no~

this rap was more than a message to sana, it was a confession of the years with built up feelings to sana as she smiled under the jackets, trying to contain herself as you serenaded her swoonly.

sure you were singing at her sleeping body, kinda stupid but it was all so cute and adorable as sana’s eyes fluttered closed off to sleep again. knowing that from this point on you would be the one to carry her to bed after nights like these.

#saiiidahyunee #twice x reader #kpop x reader #sana x reader #twice sana #sana fluff #minatozaki sana #twice fluff #sana imagines #minatozaki sana x reader #kpop fluff #fluff

375 notes · View notes

mysterystarz · 19 days

Text

kiss me maybe:

summary: finding a flier for the volleyball's kissing booth was surprising for two reasons. a) kuroo had created one of the worst fliers known to mankind and b) oikawa tooru, the school's resident pretty boy was capitalizing off the rumors surrounding him. still, you couldn't deny your attraction to the setter, and he couldn't hide that you were the only one he wanted to kiss

pairing: oikawa tooru x g!n reader

word count: 12.6k (please give this a chance)

genres + themes: college!au, sort of friends to lovers(?), fluff, angst, kuroo being an occasional menace, iwaizumi being the sexiest friend you can have, kiyoko being an icon, romanticized college experience, oikawa being an idiot but yours

warnings: cursing, a tad suggestive in some parts, absolutely not proofread

a/n: hi there i am back with a long fic. anyways this thing is my lovechild and probs the most fanfic thing ive written. its really just a fluff monster (lol) and i hope you give this a chance <3 also dedicated to @chimielie because her stuff gave me the inspo to write ily lia thank you for being so talented

It was said that Oikawa Tooru’s kisses were mythical.

Some claimed that one press of lips from the kingly setter was like a hit of a drug, sudden in a way that sent you reeling.

To some, his kisses tasted like the finest candy, hand served on an ornate dish.

Most magically, it was claimed that a kiss from Oikawa Tooru could heal even the most broken of hearts. Just one thread through sun bronzed hair could make you forget about the most painful memories.

And of course, like any celebrity would, he knew about each and every rumor.

Naturally, you reckoned you were bound to see the dreaded flier sooner or later. It sat there still, taped onto the tiny bulletin board outside of the Organic Chemistry I room. It was the worst godawful flier you’d ever seen in your life. In front of you was a myriad of colorful borders, and even more whimsical fonts atop of a cardstock page. It seemed to call out to you with its boldness, as if to say “kiss me” with its scrawling typography.

Mystic Kissbooth, it read in an infuriatingly ornate font. Come and kiss your woes away (and kiss ours away too – a mutually beneficial fundraiser!)

“I see you’ve seen our handiwork,” chuckled a voice. You didn’t have to turn around to recognize Kuroo, who simply leaned against the bulletin board in an attempt to catch your expression.

Not that he would. You weren’t going to give him that luxury.

“No wonder it’s such shit,” you laughed, gesturing to the list of names at the bottom, “I’m honestly ashamed to even know you.”

“Hey,” he frowned playfully, ruffling your hair as he began his signature large strides. Curse him and his stupidly long legs. “That was heavily inspired by your Canva templates…..you know….the bad ones.”

You let out a long and dragged out sigh while you followed your best friend (unfortunately) to one of the secluded benches on campus. Beneath the hustle and bustle of students as they sprinted to class, it was almost peaceful to rest your legs for just a moment.

Relaxing onto the bench, you placed your backpack at your side, creating a wedge between you and Kuroo, who’d taken the seat right next to you. He didn’t seem to mind, simply casting a grin in your direction.

For starters, you weren’t sure how to feel about the Canva invasion. Yes, it was a design platform, and yes, you’d tried (and failed sometimes) to create infographics whenever Kuroo needed a helping hand. It was just a tad surprising to discover that Kuroo had drawn his inspiration from your least successful works.

“What’s this whole thing about?” You decided on asking after a lengthy pause. Kuroo cast his gaze to meet your own, his grin almost glued into place.

“Well, not that we’re in any trouble, but the volleyball club could use some funds. We’ve been trying to set up some pretty competitive matches and practice games, but we need the fuel to do it. Oikawa thought this was a great way to make use of all the attention we have.”

“No wonder. He’s probably the most popular one on the team….though Iwaizumi is honestly the one to be looking at.”

“Rude,” Kuroo huffed, “There’s a lot of other people to be interested in, you know.”

“Hopefully you don’t mean yourself,” you chuckled, dodging a playful hit on the arm from Kuroo. “But in all seriousness, a kissing booth?” Kuroo paused for a moment, seemingly mulling over a proper response, when Iwaizumi entered your frame of vision.

There were times you wondered why Iwaizumi Hajime didn’t consider a career in modeling. From where he stood, the sunlight almost seemed to caress his skin, tanned and sun bronzed from a summer spent playing volleyball on the beach. Upon seeing you and Kuroo on the bench, he extended a quick wave before jogging over, arms flexing as he got closer.

“Stop ogling him,” Kuroo smirked, “You could stand to be a bit less obvious.” “Shut up,” you muttered just as Iwaizumi ended his jog to stand in front of you.

“Nice to see you here,” he beamed, his eyes meeting your own, “I barely see you around these days. Did Kuroo scare you away from the club?” “No not at all,” you smiled, moving your backpack to make space for the handsome spiker. Some of the students on the nearby path stopped to turn at the three of you, and Iwaizumi, none-the-wiser, took a swig from his water bottle.

He was never aware of the effect he had on people. That was exactly what contributed to his charm.

“Y/N wanted to know a bit more about the booth,” Kuroo started. “I think you’d explain it better than I could.”

Iwaizumi raised a brow, “It’s just a club fundraiser. I mean, it's the only decent idea that Oikawa’s had in a while.”

“So he really was involved, huh.” You said (more to yourself than anyone else). The two men looked at you confusedly, before Kuroo finally spoke.

“You know, you always seem to get a bit fidgety whenever someone mentions Oikawa. And you always try to be away from him when you come to our practices…were the two of you involved or something? Because if you were, I am honestly offended you didn’t tell me.”

You aggressively shook your head no, warranting a chuckle from Iwaizumi. “Well, if they were, I think it’s had an impact. You start to see him for who he really is.”

The three of you laughed, choosing to enjoy the fresh breeze.

However, even despite the simple beauty of this moment, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about the booth.

Oikawa stood at the front of the lecture hall, spinning his pen while meeting the eyes of his teammates. At his side was Kuroo’s flier, whimsically colorful in all the ways a magical kissing booth (like this one) was supposed to be. Iwaizumi sat in the front, close enough for Oikawa to catch the teasingly judgy stares of his best friend while he waited for everyone to settle down.

Finding a free lecture hall had been no problem. All he’d had to do is smile nicely at a few eager students, verify with a few professors, and send a frantic “MEET NOW” to the club group chat.

The real problem was convincing the rest of the team of this idea in the first place.

“Hey guys,” he beamed, putting the flier down on the desk closest to him, “Thanks for showing up on such short notice. You guys are the best.”

“We didn’t come for you,” Makki snickered. “We’re just here to see what crazy justification you have for this.” “Well,” he began, “We’ve been in the spotlight for quite some time now. A lot of us have been featured in the campus newspaper, we’ve made it onto our university’s podcast, and have you even seen the instagram fanpages for us? They’re absolutely insane. So, what better time to take advantage of this?”

“And this has nothing to do at all with the rumors?” A voice asked. Oikawa turned to meet the eyes of Semi Eita, who sat on the left corner closest to the door.

The team laughed as Oikawa shook his head in faux denial. “Absolutely not. Why would I ever do such a thing?”

“Because you're smart!” Oikawa was almost surprised to hear the remark from Bokuto, who sat near Kuroo with his own flier. “And it’s a lot of fun.”

The team murmured their respective agreements before the room fell silent again. Oikawa, ever the opportunist, slid into the silence with an explanation.

“I was thinking we set it up as sort of a de-stress day after midterms. We could get the other clubs to join in their own mini fundraisers…like a carnival of sorts. We’ll set up the booth with colorful signs and posters, and we kiss based on the cash. We can take shifts to make sure the two of us aren’t running the whole show. All proceeds are for our matches and practice games. Sounds good?” “A question. Are you going to make people line up to kiss you?” Matsukawa asked casually.

“You mean us Mattsun. And yeah, a line works just fine.” Oikawa stopped for a moment to admire the unanimous cooperation of his team. “I’ll talk to the other club leaders and see if we can come up with a date. If that’s all the questions you’ve got, I’ll see you at practice tomorrow!”

With this, his team filed out the door. He caught Kuroo animatedly discussing a design to attract customers to their booth with Bokuto, mentioning that he had a friend who’d know just what to do about it. In the midst of his rant, he’d mentioned a name.

Yours. A name he hadn’t realized he missed hearing.

A faint smile crept onto his face at the thought.

Kuroo was a menace. From the minute he’d found you at the library, he’d been nagging you the entire day, practically begging for you to come to their practice.

“Y/N please,” he whined, attempting his own version of a pout, “If you see us, you could help design the poster to attract customers.” “I don’t think you need help with that.” That much was true. Especially with Oikawa headlining the event. They were guaranteed strong profits.

Somehow in the midst of all this pleading, you’d ended up right outside the gym. The sounds of volleyballs hitting the wooden floors resonated off the walls, the sound so clear that you could hear it from your spot near the door.

“You planned this,” you glared, watching Kuroo’s smile twist into one of faux innocence. Bastard.

“What can I say? I am the master of distraction.” He opened the door, swapping his shoes out at the front and walking into the gym to the greetings of his team. You followed closely behind him, carefully striding across the polished wood and shutting the door behind you.

The gym had always been grand. Your university’s colors were plastered onto the bleachers, with a wide curtain separating the different sides of the gym. There was space – so much of it – and the team spread out to practice various skills.

For a brief moment, you allowed yourself the childish awe of standing in a space so big.

“I forgot how long it’s been since you’ve been here,” a voice greeted, “But it’s good to see you Y/N.” You knew that voice. You’d know that voice like the moon knew the stars. You’d know it anywhere.

“Oikawa,” you said, turning to acknowledge the brown-haired setter. “Long time no see.”

As much as you didn’t want to, you drank him in. He seemed to be in high spirits this afternoon, hair artfully tousled in the way he always did, and lips so perfectly smooth that they seemed out of a Chapstick ad.

“You don’t really come around anymore,” He said, taking to walking with you around the gym (much to your own surprise). “I was getting a bit worried actually.”

“What do you mean?” You stared at a spot a bit beyond the setter, watching Bokuto’s cross court spike slam into the floor with dizzying speed.

“Well….we talked a bunch. And you came here at the beginning of the year. You suddenly stopped though….so I wondered if something happened.”

“You noticed?” You scoffed. “I’m surprised you paid attention.”

“Why wouldn’t I pay attention?” Oikawa raised a brow in confusion before suddenly, the answer seemed to smack him in the face. “You’re petty about that?”

“You barely paid me any mind,” was all you said, meeting Oikawa’s warm gaze, “It was like we’d never met at all.”

You’d met Oikawa Tooru on the flight to university. You’d waved your family goodbye at the gate, hugging them tight to your chest and memorizing the feel of them against you.

You walked steadily, pulling your suitcase along as you made your way to the security check in.

“Everything goes in a bag! Belts, shoes, phones! Take off your shoes and step aside. Laptops can stay in your bags! Move along!”

You hauled your suitcase into the bin, placed your phone and wallet beside it and sent it over to the TSA associate, taking a minute to place your jacket and shoes into another bin and sending that over too.

The gray bins were plain, old and rackety and classic, comparable to a washed out 1930’s movie. You trodded through the metal detector, feeling the cold floor through your socks.

When you finally made it through check in, you were met with a TSA associate over your bag, looking straight at you as if you’d committed some heinous crime.

“Excuse me,” the TSA officer asked, gesturing to your bags, “Are these your bags?”

“Yes,” you affirmed, almost nervously. “Is there an issue?”

“You seem to have some liquid above the restricted amount. I’m going to have to take a look.”

For a moment, you were startled. What did you even bring? You’d diligently packed your belongings and made sure everything was secure….surely there had to be some mistake.

Your breath wavered the minute the officer pulled out your favorite body wash.

In the midst of your packing, you’d forgotten you’d slipped it into your carry on.

“Oh.” Your voice shook as you meant the TSA officer’s eyes, “I’m sorry. That’s my favorite one.”

“I’m sorry.” For a moment, it almost seemed like the man had sympathy for you, “But I’m going to have to ask you to pour half of it out. If you refuse that, you’re going to have to give it away.”

Every step towards the outside garbage felt like a punch to the chest. While you kept composed on the outside, pouring away half of your prized wash felt miserable.

A dying rose. A dying star. Something dying slowly and surely inside.

Now you’d have to get another one. Brand new packaging lost to your honest mistake.

This sucked ass.

You meandered through the security area again, more ghost than person and collected the rest of your belongings. While your voice wavered, you didn’t shed a tear, and simply walked along.

Somehow, in the midst of all your wandering, you ended up in the departure lounge. In front of you were an array of connected seats with their generic cushioning and the customary TV screens telling you what flight was taking off when.

The glass paneled windows to your right showcased the hangar, and from your spot, you could see planes parked out in front. The sun set down in the distance, leaving a watercolor blend of pinks and oranges in its wake.

You could almost call it picturesque.

You leaned your suitcase against a wall for a moment, scanning the lounge for an available corner. Unfortunately, your plane was packed.

The chatter of students was overwhelming, and without a choice, you settled into a seat at the far corner of the lounge next to a pretty-boy who you were certain wouldn't speak to you.

They normally never did. Why should it be any different now? And honestly, you didn’t want to talk.

“This plane is probably fully booked.” A voice (the perfect blend of warm and deep) said. You turned to meet the eyes of said pretty boy, a surprisingly lovely shade of brown. Light and bright and inviting. Almost like a mocha. Or a latte.

“Tell me about it,” you laughed, slightly amused by the novelty of the situation. It wasn’t common for pretty boys to talk to you. Even less common for you to entertain any conversation, especially when you felt the way you did. “When I waved ‘goodbye’ to my family, I wasn’t expecting this much of a crowd to tell them about.”

“Yeah?” Oikawa smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting upwards invitingly. “I was more surprised at the lack of seats.”

“You’d think they’d anticipate a college student stampede.”

Oikawa laughed, the amusement lighting up his whole face. It was a simple laugh — chiming and lovely in the way that all laughs were, but you were certain you’d do anything to hear that again.

His presence had a way of putting you at ease.

The two of you coincidentally had seats right next to each other on the flight. As the plane lifted off, you snapped a picture of the city lights, twinkling their tiny goodbyes as they faded from view.

The cabin’s lights were dimmed, yet even in the haziness, you could make out the features of the boy next to you.

High cheekbones. A defined cupid’s bow. Lips that seemed even softer than the lather of that soap you loved so much.

You’d mourn your soap later. Even if it was an object, your attachment to it simply showed a care for your belongings.

What could be more human than that?

Oikawa turned to you, gaze friendly as the plane began its mounting ascent.

“You know, the TSA can be real dicks sometimes.”

What the fuck. Who was he? A psychic?

“What did they do to you?”

“They made me pour out half my expensive hair gel. I insisted it fit the requirements but they refused to accommodate me. So mean.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the pout he wore. It seemed even someone as vivacious as Oikawa couldn’t charm himself out of aviation regulations.

Somehow the whole thing made you feel a lot better.

You and Oikawa (Tooru as he later insisted) shared many conversations throughout the flight. Some revolved around human existentialism (with him quoting the “we were infinite” from The Perks of Being a Wallflower). Some revolved around space.

Some even revolved around clubs, with him sharing high school volleyball stories and pledging your university’s team to greatness.

When fatigue finally claimed you, the comfort of his shoulder was unmatched by anything you’d ever felt. He’d extended an invite for you to come and see them practice anytime, and laid his own head atop of yours.

Of course, when you showed up for said practice, so had a bunch of other fans. He’d barely spared you a glance, let alone spoke to you when you’d tried to seek him out.

A grand gym and an even grander boy.

You just avoided him after that.

“Im really sorry about that,” Oikawa said. While his expressions were genuine, you weren’t sure how much you were going to trust it. Certainly, in all the time you’d spent apart, he must have changed at least a bit.

To think he was the exact same boy who you met on the plane would be foolish.

“Yeah, water under the bridge.”

“No, not really.” Oikawa paused to study your expression. Beneath all of your nonchalance was something fragile. Admiration? Loathing? He doubted it. “How long did you plan on avoiding me?”

“As long as I needed to.” You answered matter-of-factly. “Then again, that was when I thought you’d forgotten about me.”

“How could I ever do that?” Oikawa’s expression morphed into a worried one, eyebrows knitted together and mouth downturned as if to say damn that’s an accusation.

“Well-“

“Look I meant to seek you out after that day. I saw you there, wanted to come over, but at that point you’d gone off to continue chatting with Kuroo and met Iwa. And classes exist.”

“Okay. Water under the bridge for real.”

His eyes lit up. “You mean it?”

You nodded in approval, only to be dragged away by Kuroo, who’d suddenly appeared behind you.

“What the fuck?” You yelled, not caring much for your use of profanities. Some of the nearby team members snickered as you were pulled to the corner of the gym, in front of an array of poster boards.

“What?” Kuroo asked, “You and Oikawa seem to be fine now, so I thought I could ask you some questions about stuff that really matters. Namely posters.”

You were met with various shapes and sizes of poster boards. Some were Elmers Tri-Folds. Some were the cheap foam boards you sometimes saw while grocery shopping.

“If you want a design for your freaking booth,” you began, looking at Kuroo, “Give me some time.”

Oikawa was in the podcast studio. The room was secluded, plastered with posters and heart decals of all shapes and colors. Right beside the door was a framed picture of the volleyball team, with their silly faces frozen in motion.

Shimizu Kiyoko walked out from behind the desk, nonchalantly acknowledging Oikawa with a nod. “Oikawa, what can I do for you?”

“Hey,” he winked, unaffected by her lack of reaction, “Have any idea where I can find your host. I’d like her to do me a favor.”

“Advertising.” Kiyoko said bluntly. “I don’t think your booth needs any more attention. Our socials have covered it already.”

“We always love the extra coverage.”

“Doesn’t your friend help with all the designs? I think they’d be the perfect candidate to help with all this.”

“Y/N?” He asked, almost dumbfounded by how obvious that answer was.

“Yes,” Kiyoko smiled. “They’re very nice. I’ve seen you talk a few times, though it honestly seems like they don’t like you very much.”

“Not true.” He huffed.

“Well it makes sense. Especially if the rumors are true.”

People saw Kiyoko’s beauty and shyness and mistook her for a soft and innocent podcast manager.

Anyone who’d dealt with her enough knew she was actually a force to be reckoned with.

“The rumors are whatever you make of them. I’m simply an opportunist.”

Kiyoko chuckled and for a moment, Oikawa felt accomplished. “You don’t need to tell me this. I already know.”

He leaned against the door, and stretched out his arms in front of him before resting them at his sides again. “Would you at least consider telling the main host to help us out?”

Kiyoko shuffled the papers in her hands, before meeting his eyes. “I won’t give any guarantees, but something tells me that if you do set up a de-stress carnival, your club will be the central focus of our broadcast.”

“Thank you!” He beamed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest. “I could kiss you for that.”

“No thank you,” Kiyoko declined, “I’m not interested in confirming the rumors.”

As Oikawa left the studio, Kiyoko walked into the recording room, a tiny smile on her lips.

Your Canva page lay woefully blank before you.

You’d promised Kuroo a design if he gave you time and Kuroo, ever the considerate friend, actually stopped bothering you about the poster. He seemed to trust in Oikawa’s judgment, and it seemed that the rest of the volleyball club did too.

As a token of thanks, you’d come to the library, your brain and Pinterest providing you at least a vague idea of what it was you wanted to do. However, when it came time to put pen to paper (or more fittingly, hand to mousepad), it seemed that your ideas had been wiped clean.

Your disappointment felt like a leaky faucet. Despite the minuteness of the feeling, it seemed to pool the more you thought about the situation. While designing was never an obligation, you owed it to your friends.

You sighed, placing your bag onto the hardwood library table and casting your eyes outside. A slowly setting sun was what greeted you, a medley of pinks and oranges appearing onto a slowly disappearing blue sky.

How cliche. Considering one's disappointments next to a sunset.

“Y/N?” A voice called, almost saccharine in the silence of your surroundings.

And there he was. Draped in the setting sun like a painted figure, cloaked in a veil of sunlight that skimmed his skin like silk. Oikawa’s eyes were almost honey colored in that lighting, and beneath the darkened shelves, he was almost a mystical apparition.

“Oikawa,” was all you said, cursing every possible force for him appearing now, looking like that, when you barely had anything to show for it.

“Kuroo told me you’d offered to help us put together some signs for the de-stress carnival.” Oikawa walked over, stepping away from the sunlight and placing his bag down at your table, opting for a seat across from you. “Which, in case you were wondering, I got approval for. A lot of the other clubs are going to be there.”

“That’s good.” You allowed yourself a glance at him. Your pettiness had all but dissipated, but you were still wary of looking at him for too long. He was like the sun, golden and lustrous and magnetic. You weren’t quite ready to be pulled into his orbit.

“So,” Oikawa said, taking a glance at your computer screen, “Rough designing?”

“Yeah. Inspiration has been hard to find and your club is counting on me.”

“If it means anything to you, we wouldn’t have asked for you to do it if we didn’t believe in you.” You looked up to see Oikawa’s gaze set firmly on your own, as if tracking your expressions. Under his stare, you felt raw. Vulnerable. If you were a cake, and he was cutting you open.

You weren’t sure what to say.

A beat of silence permeated the space between you, and the two of you made no effort to stop it. It was somewhat comforting. Unsaid words of yours were understood by him.

“It feels like a lot of pressure,” you finally admitted, letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “I want it to be worth your while.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Oikawa was closer. His breath was soft, fanning over the side of your cheek like a secret.

“I’m not sure.” Your voice was nothing more than a whisper.

Oikawa paused for a moment, as if contemplating something before decisively placing his hand on top of yours.

For a moment, you were startled by the warmth of his palm, grounding you in some way that didn’t quite make sense to you yet. Something about this was intimate in all the ways it shouldn’t be. Amidst a darkening sky and a slowly dimming library, you could almost consider this clandestine.

You waited for the rustle of a book’s pages or the resounding footsteps of the librarian to break down the moment, but they never came.

Oikawa looked at you, seemingly memorizing your features. He said nothing, but a slight smile appeared on his face the second he spotted a stray lock of hair by your ear. You could feel your face progressively heating with every moment spent in this proximity.

Damn celebrity setters. Damn stupid stupid beautiful men who do this. Damn that Oikawa Tooru.

Gently, as if touching something fragile, Oikawa smoothed down your hair, brushing the tip of your ear with his fingertips. He held your gaze fondly before suddenly, making an incredulous face.

“What the-“ He said, looking at your hair again. “It’s back up again.” He looked at his hands in horror, as if their magic didn’t work. “Damn it, that’s not how that goes.”

You couldn’t stop the laughter from erupting out of you at his antics, You swiftly flattened that pesky strand and looked back at him, feeling the amusement pool in your chest at his dismayed expression.

“Sorry man,” you laughed, syllables coming out breathless, “Sometimes stuff doesn’t go to plan.”

Oikawa seemed like he wanted to melt into the floor, and feeling the need for some fresh air, you dragged him out of the library. Upon leaving the double doors (and air conditioning), you were met by the lit sidewalk and found the wooden benches by the line of trees.

You sat down, gesturing for him to join you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this one before,” Oikawa mentioned off-handedly, “I mean I’m here a lot, but I’m not sure when this was put here.”

“It’s been here…?”

Oikawa sighed, tilting his gaze to the now dark sky. “You do have an eye for good things.”

You raised a brow. “What does that even mean?”

“The stuff you make is adorable. And Kuroo’s always said that everywhere he brings us are all places you found.”

“Really?” You leaned your upper body onto the bench. “I didn’t expect credit from him.”

“He cares about you,” Oikawa said. “He gave a lot of shit when he realized that we’d talked on our plane and then not again. But I deserved that.”

“I was petty. But it’s not like I can actually walk up to you.”

“What?” Oikawa seemed puzzled, as if this was something impossible for him to fathom. “Why not? I don’t think I’m that bad.”

“Iwaizumi says otherwise.”

“Mean. But seriously, why?”

You’d forgotten how refreshing Oikawa was. Even though you were sitting on a bench, you felt practically weightless.

“Rumors,” was all you said, gesturing to him.

Understanding seemed to flash into his eyes, and slowly, like connecting pieces of a puzzle, it all fell into place. He paused for a moment before meeting your eyes with a grin.

“You know they’re just rumors right?” He smirked, “I went to a party a while back to kick off club season. There was this one girl who really wasn’t leaving me alone, so I ended up leaving. Turns out she’d told her friends that she and I made out at the party and gave me a whole lot more credit than I was expecting. Not that I mind making out, but I’m picky.”

“Picky how?” You asked, words leaving your mouth before you even had the chance to think them over.

“Picky as in there’s really only one person I’ve even wanted to kiss since I got here but haven’t got the chance to. I’m hoping they come to the booth. Just so I’ll get to know what that’s like.”

You felt a subtle twist of something in your chest, though you weren’t sure what to make of it. Of course he had his eye on somebody. It was bound to happen eventually.

“Why are you making a booth to do mass kissing then?” A valid follow up question. A guy like him could successfully pull whenever he wanted to.

“Because I’m an opportunist,” he sighed, “And I’m not even sure if I can make a move properly. I don’t function like I normally do when they’re around.”

“Of course you can. Anybody would say yes to you, Tooru.”

With this, something in him seemed to snap and he immediately pulled you closer, your faces just an inch apart. His hands were firm around your waist, and the sensation was nearly searing. You could feel everything, from his hands to his breath to even the way his eyes seemed to scan your face.

The way he looked at you now was like worship.

“What are you doing?” You whispered shakily. With him all around you you could barely breathe, let alone think.

“Making a move.” His eyes were on your lips. His hand gently left your waist to skim your arm before placing a hand on your cheek. “May I?”

Your nod was nearly imperceptible before he captured your lips in yours.

Soft, was your first thought as you felt his lips brush yours ever so lightly. You leaned into him, relishing the vaguely sweet taste of strawberry Chapstick on his lips as you swiped your tongue over his lips.

Oikawa Tooru was a mystic. His fingers tangled in your hair and his lips searched for yours as if he was a lost man and you were his savior. He traced the curve of your waist and kissed you passionately, nibbling your lips when you pulled at his shirt.

You could kiss him forever. You moved to nip at the tip of his ear, and his shaky breath had you considering if you should bite down harder. He pulled you back in and you melted into the feel of his lips and hands and the way his touch seemed to awaken something inside you.

The way he held you was reverent.

When you finally split for air, Oikawa held you close, his smile never wavering. He rubbed a thumb across your cheek, and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“That was magical,” you murmured into his shirt, and you couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit happy to hear the laugh you liked so much.

You reckoned you’d be able to put together a solid design after tonight.

Oikawa had a skip in his step the following morning. He’d aced every assessment, finished all his homework, and made major breakthroughs at practice. His sets to Bokuto were so flawless that Bokuto could hardly believe he’d made those shots.

Everyone on the volleyball team was certain that something had happened, but Oikawa refused to let up.

He didn’t kiss and tell after all.

“What is up with you?” Iwaizumi asked good-naturedly, tipping back a water bottle. “You’ve been in a surprisingly good mood all morning.”

“It’s been a good day,” Oikawa smiled, offering no other details while picking up a few stray balls on the court. The gym floor seemed exceptionally shiny today. He’d be sure to thank whoever waxed the floor for their services when he could.

“Something definitely happened.” Kuroo chimed in, scrutinizing Oikawa like he was something under a microscope. “The question is what.”

“Am I not allowed to have good days?”

“No you are,” Kuroo smirked, “But a day this good only happens after a sudden surge in popularity which —last time I checked— didn’t happen, or……did you make some breakthrough?”

“With my sets, yes.”

“No,” Kuroo smiled knowingly. “I’m gonna curse them out for not telling me anything.”

Oikawa hid his surprise with a flash of indifference, though internally he cursed the middle blocker. It seemed that he was just as good at reading people as he was at read blocking.

Iwaizumi caught on almost immediately, casting his eyes to his longtime friend, who all of a sudden, was acting like a deer in headlights. He found it odd that the nature of your relationship with Oikawa had transformed seemingly overnight.

It seemed that you never truly harbored any resentment against him.

Still, he resolved to approach you about it as soon as he could.

The minute that you walked through the gym’s double doors, the entire team thought that they’d summoned you with all the prying they were doing. You hauled something large through the door and placed it against the wall, proud of yourself for the herculean effort it took to bring it through.

The minute he registered your presence, Oikawa’s face looked like a puff of cotton candy. His cheeks were rosy with all the teasing and the memories of last night, and when he saw what it was that you’d leaned against the wall, he thought he should run over and kiss you out of pride.

“Good morning guys,” you beamed, a smile so radiant that Oikawa had suddenly lost all the focus he’d had all morning.

“Morning Y/N,” Iwaizumi greeted, walking over to greet you with a hug and a slight gesture to the object that was now leaning against the wall. “Is this it?”

You nodded excitedly. “I got the inspiration to put it together last night. I think it captures the magic of the booth.”

Iwaizumi leaned to flip over the posterboard and decided that he’d never seen anything more fitting in his entire life.

The sign was a pastel wonder, a pale blue at the bottom and moving to a light pink at the top. Across the poster were small and light volleyballs, somewhat transparent against the background as if the pattern was a part of it. The borders of the poster were filled with various lip prints (and even funnier, some hidden Chapsticks).

The font at the center was a far cry from the scrawling archaic font that Kuroo had used on their initial flyers. It was a simple block font, a shade of pink with a glow filter and a pattern that made it look like a light-up sign on the part that really mattered.

The Volleyball Club presents, the poster read, written in a smaller font. Right below that, the light up letters spelled out The Mystic Kissbooth. Help kiss us to greatness.

The team crowded around the board, marveling at both its quality and its thoughtfulness.

“Y/N….” Bokuto trailed off, his eyes nearly bursting with amazement, “This is crazy!”

“Yeah,” Semi added, “This is ridiculously good. Kuroo, where the hell have you been keeping them.”

Kuroo simply crossed his arms and smiled with pride. He’d always believed in you.

Oikawa stood shell-shocked at your work, feeling all the days of preparation finally coming together. He looked at you and smiled a smile so genuine, you were glad you’d finally pulled through.

You looked to the floor bashfully for a moment before meeting the team’s eyes with renewed confidence. “Thank you. I’m glad to help.”

Iwaizumi stood at your side, smiling fondly at you before turning his gaze to Oikawa. “Hey. Oikawa. What is the deal with the de-stress carnival? When is it, where is it, and where are we setting up?”

Oikawa, still elated, looked around the gym at the team. “If you want details, I think we should call another meeting.”

”That is a great idea,” you chimed in.

“Wanna join?” Oikawa asked (hopefully).

”I’m sorry, I don’t think I can. I’ve got a date with Kiyoko.”

The team went silent. “You have a what?!”

The evening hues only made Kiyoko more beautiful. She was dressed casually, wearing classic blue jeans, a tank top, and a cardigan that only accentuated her figure. When she saw you approaching her, a smile appeared on her face instantaneously.

“Y/N!” She greeted, “It’s good to see you.”

You jogged up to her and pulled her into a friendly hug. “It’s good to see you too!”

You and Kiyoko fell into step naturally, opting to have dinner at one of your favorite places outside of campus. It was a quick walk from where you’d chosen to meet up, and in such good weather, it was a crime not to spend more time together.

“I have a lot to tell you about,” Kiyoko began, “Starting with Oikawa Tooru. He showed up in my room and asked for the host. He’s got to know it’s me right?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I know you use a modulator to stay under wraps so people take the podcast seriously, but he’s had a very good track record for being perceptive.”

“That’s a pain” she sighed, “I hope he’s not going to spread it around.”

“He won’t,” you assured her, “Oikawa can understand rumors better than anyone.”

Kiyoko smiled relievedly, though she raised a brow at the mention of rumors. “Are those true?”

You fought the heat that seemed to emerge onto your face the minute she mentioned that. You just hoped it would go unnoticed by her.

Her blue eyes, unfortunately, were just as perceptive as they were pretty.

She smirked, crossing her arms and stopping on the sidewalk path. “When did that happen?”

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s keep walking.” You wish your voice had come out more strongly than a murmur.

“When?”

“Last night.” Damn Kiyoko for getting answers out of you.

“And…?” She raised her brows expectantly.

“Rumors are baseless but I confirm them. He is magical.”

“I ought to say something about that,” she giggled, and you wanted to bury yourself into your hands to avoid her teasing.

“Shush.”

The two of you had a lovely dinner and opted to grab a quick drink from the speciality beverage store next door. Kiyoko grabbed a strawberry milkshake and you opted for a tropical fruit floater that they’d just created. Thanks to Kiyoko, both drinks were on the house.

She nursed the straw between her lips and took a drag of her milkshake before meeting your eyes. “I have some information on the de-stress carnival.”

You urged her to continue, and Kiyoko did.

“Looks like Oikawa and the other members of clubs decided to officially name it the Cool Down Carnival. They’re just going to refer to it as Cool Down for ease. They’re planning to organize it the Saturday after midterms and they’ve been working on concessions like cotton candy, caramel apples, popcorn, and a whole boatload of stuff. Administration is also totally fine with this.”

“Wow,” was all you could say as a response. You were honestly impressed with Oikawa. He put so much thought and care into a silly rumor that had transformed into one of the school’s biggest upcoming events. He was an alchemist of opportunities, taking a rumor of lead and transforming it to gold.

“Yeah,” Kiyoko nodded, “I’ll get social media to cover it for me. So far, nobody doubts that I’m the manager of the ‘Cast, so it should be fairly reasonable for me to do.”

“Out of curiosity, do you know anything about how they’re planning to do the shifts of the booth?”

“All I know for certain is that Oikawa said he probably wasn’t gonna do a headlining shift…or a shift at all. A lot of the other members were perfectly fine with taking this on, but there has been some backlash.”

He was planning on not headlining the booth?

Your heart was suddenly very warm and fuzzy in your chest.

Kiyoko knowingly smiled at you before tipping at the front register and dragging you outside. The breeze was oddly pleasant, something a bit uncommon for this time of year. It was approaching colder weather, but it felt nearly spring-like.

“The weather isn’t making sense,” you said, enjoying the feeling of freedom that came with nighttime out.

“It hasn’t been making sense,” Kiyoko smiled, “We’re anticipating a fresh fair.”

Springs and falls blended together. You found a beautiful leaf on the sidewalk and pressed it to your palm, preserving the feel and look in your memory.

“I’m looking forward to it,” you’d finally tell Kiyoko as you parted ways, meaning each and every word.

When Oikawa had showed up at your doorstep in the morning, your sleep-addled brain could barely fathom the reason as to why he would do such a thing.

That was, until he walked into your room carrying breakfast in a brown bag.

“Good morning Y/N.” He said, voice still slightly raspy from a good night of sleep. (You weren’t going to forget how that sounded forever).

You greeted him with a morning greeting of your own and sat on your bed, stretching your limbs and analyzing the boy who—at this present moment—seemed like the happiest guy on earth.

“Feel free to help yourself,” Oikawa grinned, grabbing a bagel and a pack of cream cheese from the bag. “I have some updates for you.”

“Does it have to do with the Cool Down?” You walked over to the bag and grabbed something you liked from the inside.

“Wow. How did you know about the name?”

“I have my sources,” you winked.

Oikawa simply laughed. “I know it’s Kiyoko dumbass. She’s one of the sneakiest podcast hosts of all time.”

“So you do know.”

“Obviously.” Oikawa lounged on the chair in your corner. “Nobody else is ever working in that office. She should get some people to join her.”

You nodded and shifted to sit next to him on the couch. His warmth was a surprisingly pleasant addition into the morning, and you found yourself leaning into him. He didn’t make any move to stop it, opting to pull you in and place his arm over you.

“We have classes soon,” you said groggily, “But I don’t want to move.”

“We don’t have to right now.”

“Thanks Tooru.”

“Of course, Y/N.” He smiled. “Though we do have an afternoon meeting on how to divide the shifts. I’m not sure what we’re going to be doing about me.”

You suddenly felt a lot more awake. You shifted your weight onto your unsupported arm and looked up at Oikawa. “Are you planning to take a shift?”

Oikawa shifted nervously in his seat. “I’m not sure. I may have to for the sake of demand. Everyone is expecting me to live up to the expectation. I think we would be less successful without my involvement.”

You felt a twist of something. Not jealously, but not comfort either. Something between the two. You rose away from Oikawa, walking over to the opposite side of the room where your bed was and met his eyes.

“Do you really have to?” you asked, feeling partially unfair. There was nothing official between the two of you at the moment, but you’d thought after the kiss two nights ago…..you thought you had a chance.

“I might,” he gulped, “But you know you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to kiss.”

You sighed exasperatedly. “I know that you came up with this as a business opportunity and because you thought we’d never…get anywhere, but a long shift is going to be a lot of people.”

“I know,” he sighed, meeting your eyes with an expression in his own that looked a lot like sadness. “But the fundraiser might just have to come first for now— no that’s not what I—“

“Please leave,” you said, voice wavering a bit, “I don’t want to deal with the whole priorities thing right now. We can say we kissed once for fun. Headline it if you must. Later Oikawa.”

You turned away from him and walked towards your closet to find appropriate clothes for the day. You couldn’t even stand to look at him right now. Things would become too complicated for you to handle.

“Y/N, I’m really sorry.” Oikawa said from behind you, “That is genuinely not what I meant.”

You turned to face him again, not even able to meet his eyes. “There’s got to be some semblance of truth in what you said earlier. You love your team Oikawa. They are important. I don’t expect you to throw away opportunities for me. We’re not even dating.” You laughed dryly. “I’d like a bit of space. We can talk a bit later.”

Oikawa seemed like he had a lot more to say, but he wordlessly slipped out of the door, leaving your room noticeably empty.

Once he’d left for certain, you collapsed onto the floor and let loose the dam of tears you’d held in for so long.

When Iwaizumi found you in the library, he knew immediately that something was wrong. Your eyes were reddened ever so slightly, covered over by a splash of cold water to the face (most likely), and your usual cheerfulness when you greeted him was a lot less lively.

He took the seat beside you, surprised by your lack of response.

”Hajime,” you said softly, turning over to smile sadly at him, “Good to see you here.”

Correction: something was horrifically wrong.

“What happened?” He asked softly, wondering what was enough to dampen your normally resilient spirit.

“Fucking Oikawa,” you laughed sarcastically, “Look at me saying I’d never get caught up in his web, and then doing exactly that.”

Iwaizumi wrinkled his brow. That day on the bench, he’d known enough to discern that you and Oikawa had some sort of history. That much continued to be made obvious by Oikawa’s constant urge to see you and include you in everything that he and Kuroo didn’t think was important enough to invite you to.

However, he wasn’t sure when you and Oikawa became more than a past set of acquaintances….and that stung a little. He understood your reasoning though. Especially if it was as complicated as you seemed to feel at the moment.

“Were you guys dating?”

“No.” You turned to face him in full, and he was struck by the magnitude of just how magnetic you were. Iwaizumi was guilty of being stuck in your orbit. “Just a kiss. Because he sweet talked me into thinking he wanted something.”

“Knowing him, he probably did.” Iwaizumi said, “Oikawa has a tendency to be obsessive to get what he wants, but also be blinded by obligations. This was definitely about him headlining the booth, right?”

You nodded, feeling a sudden tightness in your throat at the thought. You weren’t ready to confront the morning’s events quite yet.

“That dumbass,” Iwaizumi groaned, “If he’d told us that he liked you and had actually managed to make a move we would’ve gladly taken his shift! Who gives a fuck about what the college body wants? Half of them thirst over everyone!” You laughed a bit at the truth of that statement. “Yeah, and Kiyoko told me she was also planning on making a little appearance.”

At this Iwaizumi raised his brow. “Oh that’s about to be carnage.”

“Absolutely,” you giggled, “Who knows? Maybe you’ll be the lucky person.” Iwaizumi laughed, a sound that was low and sweet and comforting. “I think I’ll leave it to some of the other boys. They deserve a chance after all.”

The two of you grinned at the mental imagery of the team fighting for a chance to interact with your beautiful friend, and suddenly, Oikawa’s shittiness seemed like something far less relevant.

Still, even with the humor of the situation came the very uncomfortable realization that you and Oikawa–-whatever you were–-were done if you didn’t come to some consensus.

You shoved your hands into your face, wondering how the hell you’d managed to go from avoidant and unattached to too attached. Maybe the rumors had some merit. A kiss from Oikawa was all that it took to get so jumbled.

Iwaizumi’s warm palm on your back was what brought you back to your senses. He rubbed his slow circles and sat there patiently until you emerged from your cover of shame.

“What am I going to do?” you asked, voice raw and vulnerable and everything you’d rather it not have been.

“Whatever you want to do.” Iwaizumi’s gaze was genuine, soft eyes studying you. “You’re entitled to your own decisions. Kuroo and I would never ditch you for Shitty you know.”

“It’s for the team,” you whispered, feeling tears threatening to spill over your cheeks. Your vision was hazy, and you blinked slowly to clear the water from your eyes. “So then why do I feel like this?”

“Because you care about him, Y/N.” Iwaizumi squeezed your shoulder affectionately, “You and him clearly bonded on some intergalactic level, so having that be suddenly shattered in favor of something seemingly less important is going to feel like shit. In fact, he is the real piece of crap here.” “The team matters.” “The team is all about relationships.” Iwaizumi said firmly. “I have a hunch there’s someone in this tournament that he needs to beat. That’s why he’s been obsessively orchestrating the perfect way to raise money to have a practice match beforehand. Still, I won’t deny it. Oikawa is an idiot for doing this to you. You have all the rights to move on with your life.”

“I think I’m gonna take my space from him for a few days,” you eventually responded. “I think I’ll also not visit the booth. I’ll give Kuroo the sign in advance so he can help with setting up?”

Iwaizumi nodded solemnly. “If that’s what you need to do, I’ll be your number one supporter. I’d still love it if you could stop by though. We love having you around.”

You nodded at him. “I’ll be there for you and Kuroo. Always. And you guys can hang out with me at the Cool Down when you’re off shift.”

“Of course,” Iwaizumi smiled, “For you? Anything.”

“How do you say, ‘I’m angry’ in French?” The ping of the recording microphone tapped on as Oikawa paced quickly around his room.

“Je suis fâché.”

“How do you say, ‘I like to go out with my friends’ in French?” “J’aime sortir avec mes amis.”

“How do you say, ‘I went to my friend’s house’ in French?”

“Je ne veux pas continuer.”

“Oui Monsieur. À Bientôt!” His phone’s recording feature switched off, leaving him in a silent room once again.

He was regretful, so much so that he paced around in his room in the hopes that it would give him some sort of clarity. As much as he wanted to approach you, he knew you weren’t ready to talk to him right now.

“Shittykawa,” he heard from his door, opening with a subtlety and closing with a bang. Classic Iwa move.

He turned to face his best friend, who at this moment, seemed to be quite irritated with him. He could feel the lecture as certain as one could feel a thunderstorm in the air.

Iwaizumi stood, arms crossed in Oikawa’s room, leaning against the wall and pinning him with a look so strong it might as well have been a thumbtack. Oikawa felt rooted in place, and all the words he initially planned on saying left his mouth.

“So Ushijima Wakatoshi happens to be at a school just a bit over,” Iwa started, “I did my research. Why not play a practice match with them to start to see their setting style? Break down their setter, practice receiving from a left-handed person, and maybe we can beat him, right?”

Oikawa sighed, feeling all the fight leave his body. He made his way over to his pale blue rug and sat down. “I know. It’s ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous is what you did to Y/N.” Iwaizumi glared at him. “If you’d said something about liking them and actually successfully getting them to like you, then we would’ve been perfectly capable of handling the shifts. Hell, even Kiyoko is coming. That alone will give people incentive to come and kiss us.”

“I made a mistake,” Oikawa cringed. He didn’t even want to think about the morning. What was intended to be a romantic gesture ended up being a horrible memory. His attempts to distract himself were futile, and he couldn’t help but wonder how Iwaizumi had found you. “But they probably don’t want to talk to me.”

Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa sadly. “They’re planning on skipping the booth. They’ve already decided to give their poster to Kuroo so he can help us with set-up. So don’t plan on seeing them.”

He grimaced. “Not coming? Really?”

Iwaizumi nodded. “I was pretty unhappy about it, but we’ve got to give them space to process everything.” The minute you’d smiled at him in the airport, talking about “college stampedes,” Oikawa knew he wanted nothing more but to know you better. He’d thanked every lucky star for the seats you had next to each other and relished every moment spent with you.

He wondered why you avoided him for the next months, always daydreaming about what he’d say to you when you finally reappeared at practices. He’d searched for you in your classes, but he always missed you.

When you walked into the gym on that fateful day, he thought he had a genuine chance. You were perfect. Your thoughts were exquisite, your smile radiant, and everything about you felt right. When he kissed you, he could’ve screamed to the heavens that his heart was yours.

Perhaps that was why his heart seemed to tear a bit at Iwaizumi’s declaration. You wanted to move on from this.

“Oikawa…you can still fix this you know?” Iwaizumi pulled him up from the rug, noting the reignited spark in his eyes. “You should probably get the fair set up, find Y/N, and explain yourself. I’m certain they’ll understand.”

“It’s the least I can do,” he said solemnly, “And if they still decide they want nothing to do with me, at least I did my part.”

You found him at Kuroo’s place at night when you’d stepped through his door uninvited (like you did at times). In your hands was your laptop, a few pencils, and the sign you’d made for the booth. The last thing you’d expected was to see the person you’d been trying so desperately to avoid.

Oikawa, for a moment, looked like he’d seen a ghost. He looked at the door, brown eyes concerned and scanning you as if you’d just walked in through the wall.

Nobody said anything. You stood still, too shell-shocked to process the fact that a night before the Cool Down, Oikawa was spending time with Kuroo. In fact, you could barely believe Kuroo had ever allowed Oikawa into his place in the first place, especially when he knew that you were planning on popping in at some point.

Kuroo’s eyes followed your gaze, finding it landing right on the floor next to Oikawa (as opposed to straight at him).

“Well,” Kuroo began softly, “I didn’t warn either of you.”

“You could have,” you said, looking back at Kuroo, “I would’ve liked to know before I got here.” “But then you would have never showed up.” Oikawa’s voice was clear, slicing through the silence of the room with a blade of decisiveness that you hadn’t heard from him. He looked you over, seemingly analyzing your health since the day he’d fucked up.

“I wasn’t planning on running into you,” you admitted, finding the courage to meet his eyes. “In fact, I was literally just coming to drop off the sign for your booth, talk to my best friend, and then go to bed.”

“Please let me explain myself.” Everything about Oikawa seemed pleading. His face harbored an expression of guilt so boundless that you weren’t sure how to react.

You wordlessly sat down in the corner chair closest to Kuroo’s door, setting your stuff down on the surface closest to it.

“I’m sure Iwaizumi must have told you what it was that we were raising money for.”

You nodded.

“I never had the chance to tell you more about what I struggled with in high school," Oikawa said quietly. “I was surrounded by talented players. Some of them are so talented that I thought I never even stood a chance. I realized at the end of my matches that I deserved to be on the court just as much as anyone else.”

“You’re a damn good setter Oikawa,” Kuroo interjected, “And even Semi admires your sets. He’s from the same school as Ushijima too.”

“Thank you,” Oikawa laughed softly, but even the sound was sad. He turned to meet your eyes. “I was out of line trying to say the volleyball club mattered more to me than what we were getting to be. I was worried they’d be weird at me for flaking, but they’re my team. Iwa told me they’d always have my back. Happy setter happy tosses right?”

You took a moment to process everything that he was saying, ultimately coming to one conclusion. He really did feel bad.

“Why are you so obsessed with having a chance to beat someone you had a rivalry with in highschool?”

Oikawa paused, contemplating your question. His brow was furrowed, and his hands clutched anxiously around nothing, seemingly finding the best words to phrase—whatever it was—that he was feeling.

“It was to give myself the confidence to know I can still beat tough opponents,” he said quietly. “But it was never worth losing you.”

You gently moved onto the floor, kneeling your way over to where Oikawa sat. When your fingertips skimmed his cheek, cool from the fall time air, he seemed fragile.

You gently curved your fingers to tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear. “Are you sure you mean it?”

“Every last word.” Oikawa whispers, and maybe against your better instincts, you pull him into an embrace.

As far as Oikawa was concerned, you weren’t coming to the booth today.

Cool Down’s set up began bright and early, and despite last night’s emotional clarity, Kuroo was still the one who showed up with the sign.

The booth was placed in a central location, but deep enough into the carnival so that after a sweet kiss, everyone could go and support the other clubs. He hadn’t been able to spot Kiyoko quite yet, but he was certain they were bound to cross paths eventually.

He walked across the grassy area where the carnival was being set up, watching the glorious “Cool Down” sign being placed at the front of the admit area. Many sports teams and board members of academic clubs were helping organize their own booths.

“Hey Oikawa! I can put up the banner!” Bokuto shouted from across the field, jogging up to their area with a rolled up “Mystic Kissbooth” backdrop.

“Be careful!” He yelled back, “We can’t have one of our best spikers getting hurt. I need those cross court and straight shots in perfect condition!”

Bokuto grinned so widely that Oikawa couldn’t help but grin back. “You can count on me!”

He took a moment to slouch against the now filled bouncy castle by their stand, clutching his clipboard to his chest. He could practically sense the excitement seeping into the space as the nearby club members set up their stands.

He’d had the opportunity to survey the space beforehand, and was quite pleased with the nearby stations.

The art club created a paint gun bullseye game to win handmade trinkets and jewelry. The president stood proudly at the set up side, excitedly loading up paint into the guns. He could already predict the boyfriends who’d attempt to win there.

To the other side of them was the statistics club’s probability stand. They’d set up numerous games: cards, a wheel, and even ring toss for the chance to win huge prizes. At the present moment, Kuroo was inquiring about the legitimacy of the airpods in one of the member’s hands (and yes—they were legit).

“This is pretty amazing, huh?”

Oikawa snapped out of his reverie, only to see Mattsun sporting his classic smirk. He looked around for Makki, but didn’t find him.

“Yeah,” he admitted, “I’m honestly surprised our little flier accomplished this much.”

“I’m not,” Mattsun chuckled, “You’ve been like this since high school Oikawa. Everyone here is really grateful for the rumors. Speaking of which…think the culprit is going to show up today?”

Oikawa snorted, momentarily horrified at the sound

that escaped him. “That’s ridiculous. I’m not planning on being a headliner. Iwa’s got that covered.”

Makki walked into view just a few moments later, looking thoroughly confused. “Where’s the rest of the team?”

Kuroo walked over at the exact moment, clapping Makki on the back. “We decided to give them a little break, considering they’re going to be doing all the kissing later.”

The group gathered together, and Mattsun pointed to the castle. “Who’s running this thing?”

“Oh it’s just a free fun thing the school is putting up.” Oikawa smacked it for good measure.

“How did midterms even go for you guys?” Kuroo laughed, “I pulled what I wanted in all my classes. Somehow. Orgo was a fucking miracle though. I genuinely thought I failed.”

“I was mostly fine,” Mattsun chuckled, “Though we won’t talk about history. Freaking liberal arts.”

Oikawa’s midterms had gone more or less to plan, but the added emotional stress had made it much more difficult to keep cool.

Standing there in that grassy field, he felt more at peace than he did the rest of the week.

Maybe today would be okay after all.

You and Iwaizumi were in your room trying to devise a plan on how to attend the carnival. The cool wood of your desk hit your wrist as you spread out the makeshift blueprint of the event that Kiyoko had so graciously given you.

Iwaizumi paced along the floor, inspecting outfits that you picked out while you devised a mental list of everywhere you wanted to go to maximize your enjoyment. Economic principles were literally designed off of utility, and you wanted to make sure all your contributions would have the best outcome for the clubs and yourself.

Midterms had been stressful, and while last night’s talk had fixed most of what had contributed to that stress, you still wondered about Oikawa.

Iwaizumi was the event’s new headliner, so what did that mean for Oikawa?

You weren’t sure.

The Saturday morning filled your room with sunshine that was comforting. From your window you were greeted with the multicolored leaves of campus, some floating down leisurely to hit the grass.

Iwaizumi, it seemed, had finally picked your outfit.

“Here,” he gestured, pointing to one of your favorites. “You rock this one.”

“Why thank you,” you smiled, tossing him the blueprint. “I’ve finally figured out the order I’m going to tour the Cool Down.”

Iwaizumi caught the paper in one arm, muscles flexing ever so slightly as he did. You nodded appreciatively. He was going to generate a shit ton of money.

He put a pen between his lips ever so slightly as he read the marks on the page. “Cotton candy. Art booth. Bouncy castle. Stats games. Chemistry lab. Apple dunk to win candy apples. Physics coaster.” He handed the page back. “That’s a pretty solid list. I think you’re missing something though.”

You pulled the pen out of Iwa’s mouth (surprised at your boldness) and smiled gently at him. “I’ll be sure to pop in at some point or be nearby to support you.”

Iwaizumi nodded, “Of course. I just need to beat you at any and all games we visit after my shift.”

You snickered. “Not a chance.”

Iwaizumi simply smirked in response.

“Hey, I need two tickets!” A student hollered to her assistant, who at the present moment, was working on acquiring more admit tickets from the roll they’d customized for the event. “We have quite the line here.”

“I’m working on it!” The assistant hollered back, jogging over with the entire row.

The line for the Cool Down was large, and you were thankful you’d had the foresight to arrive early enough to avoid a majority of the crowd. Being friends with Iwa had its perks too–the minute that the admitting team had spotted him, they’d immediately ushered you to the front so you were in a position to visit him later.

Soon enough, you were at the front of the line.

“Well hello there friend of Iwaizumi,” the girl at the front smiled, “How many tickets do you need?” “Just one,” you said, surprised at the lack of prompt to pay the entrance fee. “What about the entrance fee?”

“Oh, Iwaizumi took care of that already,” the assistant grinned, handing you a beautifully designed cardstock ticket and tying a wristband around your wrist. “So you can walk straight in.”

You smiled graciously at the duo. “Wow. I’ll go find him and pay him back. Thank you guys.”

Stepping around the ticket distribution center, you walked straight through the decorated entrance area and walked in.

For a moment, you were awestruck. The usually empty grass fields were filled to the brim with activity. All around you were the booths of various clubs, all with lines to try them out. You could smell the sweet and tart scent of caramel apples in the distance, and saw a couple trying out the physics club’s make-shift coaster with a cotton candy in their hands.

The late afternoon was brisk and fresh, and you felt the possibilities of the evening unfurl around you. As the sky darkened its hues, the fair would begin to light up from the fixtures that trimmed everyone’s areas. Everything, from the food areas, to even the Mystic Kissbooth would create a movie-like scene.

You decided right there and then that the Cool Down was the best fair you’d ever attended. You’d never seen anything as well thought out as what you saw today.

You made your way to the popcorn area, finding new booths that you hadn’t seen on the blueprint. In front of you was a simple dart-throw, with the guarantee of winning a special edition Cool Down shirt if you hit within a certain range.

This was intriguing.

“Hi there,” you said quietly, walking up to the booth. “Can I give this a whirl?” The booth’s president looked up at you shocked for a moment before nodding.

“Of course!” He said excitedly, elbowing his shift mate. “Y/L/N Y/N, right? We are huge fans of your work. Kuroo has told us so so much about you!”

“My work?” You asked curiously as they pressed a dart into your palm. “Like my fliers?” “Hell yeah,” the president grinned. “Pay if you win okay? I honestly want you to get our design out of it. We were inspired a bit by your Mystic Kissbooth sign.”

In the spirit of good fun, you aimed the dart as best as you could, so surprised when you hit a spot very close to the bulls-eye.

“Hey!” you shouted excitedly, “I actually got in range!” The president smiled excitedly. “Amazing! What’s your shirt size?” You told him your size, tucking a good amount of money into the jar. As soon as the soft shirt fabric hit your hands, you were immediately overcome with a sense of pride. The design was beautiful and simple, capturing the essence in the fair in just an image.

“You’re the design club?” You grinned, “This is amazing!” “Ah thank you,” the president said bashfully, “It’s an honor to get a compliment from you. You’re more than welcome to join us. Canva art is still art we love.”

“I’ll be sure to consider it!” You waved goodbye to the design booth as you made your way deeper into the fair, a t-shirt in hand.

“Hey there! Want a chance to win a cool plushie? Come right over!” You turned your head to be met with the sewing club with something that looked a lot like “Bop-It” set up with sheets of papers next to them. Out of sheer curiosity you made your way to the booth, finding a larger crowd than you anticipated. “Okay,” one of the members began, “Here is how this works. You and your competitor will receive a pre-programmed Bop-It machine. Follow the color scheme as closely as you can and note the last color in each sequence on your sheet. If you don’t mess up before your partner, you win ANY handmade plush of your choice!” In front of you, you spotted a couple tucking money into the jar and competing against one another. The round was quick, ending when someone clicked the wrong color. The handmade plushie of the winner was adorable.

Somehow, all your observations had led you to the front of the line.

“Hello,” a student smiled, “Do you have a competitor with you?” You were about to share a response when you heard a voice behind you. “Yeah, they do. I’d like to play please.” You were pleasantly surprised to find Kiyoko grinning as she tucked a hefty amount into the jar. The student at the front seemed enamored, and so did the entire line.

“Shimizu Kiyoko is here…” they all whispered.

“Hey Kiyoko,” you smiled, placing your own money in the jar. “Planning to beat me?”

“Of course.” She grinned mischievously, “I ran a volleyball team. I am competitive enough to beat you.”

The game began as soon as the students got a grip of themselves. You frantically hit the colors and noted them down, only to tie with Kiyoko. You’d both walked away with adorable plushies, though Kiyoko had forcibly had to ensure that they didn’t hand her an extra.

“I’m glad to run into you,” you smiled, walking with her further into the grass. “I had no idea what time you were planning to get here.”

“I’m glad I found you.” Her smile was infectious, and soon enough, you stood in front of a candy apple stand.

“Are you planning to visit the booth?” You asked her, watching her pay for her apple.

“Yeah,” she smiled, “Oikawa begged me to cover, so I was feeling nice. Though he’s been sulking lately.” You raised a brow. When you saw him last night, you could feel his fatigue. You felt the stress melt out of him when you pulled him in for a hug, but you hadn’t realized the extent of his distress.

“He hasn’t kissed today at all,” she smiled knowingly, “I think he’s saving an appearance for a special someone.” “He’s….not headlining?” You were shocked. After everything, it seemed that he really meant what he said.

“Nope,” Kiyoko wiped some caramel from her lips. “And the booth’s sales have been spectacular.”

Standing there in the field, you were hit with the intense urge to see him. “Go,” Kiyoko smiled, “They’ve been waiting for you to show up.” “We’ll catch up.” You smiled as you took off in a jog towards the booth. The wind swept your cheeks as you ran, and you could see the evening sun dip into different colors. Beautiful, you thought, feeling the adrenaline pump through your veins.

He really had meant everything. You needed to see him.

When you arrived at the booth, you were shocked at the line. So many students lined up, money in hand as they waited for their chance to kiss a volleyball player. You were shocked to see the crowd, watching someone hand Semi a particularly large bill before leaning in for a kiss.

You surveyed the booth for Oikawa, but you couldn’t find him anywhere. You couldn’t stop the thrum of your heart in your chest from overpowering your senses. Where was he? What if you were too late? At that particular moment, Oikawa walked out from behind the stand, putting some Chapstick onto his lips. And then, he saw you.

You stood in line, a large bill in hand and an expression that seemed almost desperate. Oikawa has never seen anyone look more perfect than you did right now. You held a handmade plushie and a shirt, lips flushed from biting them.

You met his eyes, feeling your heart shock at the sensation. There he was.

Before you even had a chance to think about what you were doing, you ran out of line to him, shoving the bill into his hands.

“Tooru,” you said breathlessly, looking at him with an expression he’d never seen before. “Kiyoko told me you weren’t headlining. I was afraid I wasn’t going to find you. I’m sorry for not trusting you.” Oikawa could hardly hide his shock as the words tumbled from your lips. He studied your cheeks, and smoothed out your wind mused hair with a soft smile. “Hey, it’s alright.” You exhaled, looking at him like he strung the stars. “I thought I wouldn’t make it in time.” Oikawa simply grinned before pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

This was different from the last time you kissed. He cupped your face softly and wrapped his other arm around your waist, tracing a small heart into your back. You could feel the curve of his lips as he kissed you softly, pulling you deeper when you smiled back into it. Everything about this was soft, almost loving. It felt like a truce. It felt like a confession.

It felt better than both of those things. When you finally split for air, his smile was nearly blinding. He looked at you like you were a poet and he was your poetry, a product of your purest affections.

“Go out with me sometime?” He looked nervous, standing there like he hadn’t just kissed you like you were the most special person in the universe.

“Of course,” you grinned, pulling him down for another kiss.

if you got this far, thank you for reading <3!!

397 notes · View notes