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#anyway;; thank you for being my friend :( and for being one of the most talented gifmakers and artists i know <3
lydiimae · 1 month
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Infatuation
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
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MDI!! 18+
Part 2 <3
Warnings: Heavy drinking, mentions of opium use, mentions of prostitution, rough sex, fingering, oral sex, semi-public sex, squirting, marking, thigh riding, vaginal sex, dom benedict and sub reader, brief spanking, possessive benedict, LOTS of dirty talk
A.N: hi again, i'm back on my bullshit <3 first of all, thank you so very much for the love on my first Benny fic AND my first fic ever. liiiiike seriously, that was so sweet <3 T-T. anyway, this fic is another Benny fic- a smutty one at that. it is vaguely based off of the infamous party where Ben has his threesome, however, i changed it up quite a bit so take it at face value hehe. i am planning on making an Anthony one next, probably some more filth so I can practice getting my wording to a place i am proud of. also, i think i will maybe make this into a series??? so do let me know if you like it so i can get an idea >.< enjoy, ily, and THANK YOU AGAIN <3 ^-^
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You were never one to go to parties, especially the ones your dear friend Genevieve Delacroix invited you to. She had a knack for finding the most raunchy, wanton, artists who would throw parties full of courtesans, sex, opium, alcohol... the whole of it.
Being a maid for such a wealthy and well-known family, the Featherington's to be exact, meant you knew the secret lives that many lords and ladies lead outside of the stuffy confines of the ballrooms.
You were lucky to be the lady's maid of the sweetest Featherington, Penelope, and therefore you were even luckier to hear about the Bridgerton family. From what she told you, they were all kind and polite, just like anyone else. She had also hinted, quite shyly, to the men of the family being gorgeous. The third born being her favorite.
You had seen glimpses of pearly white teeth, dark blue tailcoats, and their chestnut brown hair but were never lucky enough to see a full image of any of them but Eloise and her sister, Daphne.
When Genevieve insisted on you tagging along with her and a friend from a higher-up place, you begrudgingly accepted. It was lucky that the young debutante you worked for insisted on having something important to do, so you snuck out and walked through the streets of London to the modiest's shop.
Genevieve dressed you in a tight but, incredibly beautiful, dark blue corset and a pair of black pants, to which you raised an eyebrow. "I look as if I am soliciting, not as if I am curious about this party you have been nagging me to go to." You comment, looking in the mirror.
"What if you solicit, hm? Where is the harm in spending a night with a lord or even another servant?" She returns, tightening up the laces on the corset before stepping back and looking over her work. "Besides, look at yourself. You have a body that would make any one of those silly debutantes jealous, why not show it?" She grins.
You sigh and turn to her, a small cheeky smile on your face as a result of her teasing. "You owe me for this, Viv." You tease and she laughs, putting on her cloak as she hands you your own. "There she is. The Y/N I know. We will have fun, I swear it." She says. Once your cloak is tugged over your shoulders, the both of you make your way out of the shop and towards the house where the party is being held.
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Benedict never snuck out, not before he got invited to Lord Granville's house. The man was nice enough about him completely insulting his art to his face, nice enough to recognize an artistic eye and even the hint of talent that Benedict possessed through merely speaking about art. He thought the gathering was going to be one where he would meet artists and practice his craft. He was wrong.
Of course, he was experienced in the world of sex, drugs, and drinking. He attended the gentleman's club with his brothers after almost every ball he attended, much like every other lord in the ton. He has shared his number of passion-filled nights with nameless women, some of which he cannot remember. The only remenice being the ache of a hangover, and the taste of expensive whiskey still lingering on his tongue.
He would have never thought that the artist had such a scene hiding behind such an unassuming townhouse.
He followed the artist in and was met with quite the scene. The room was hazy with the smoke of expensive cigars, the candlelight casting a low gold hue on the entire house. He followed the artist deeper and was met with courtesans soliciting men at every turn, to which he grinned.
Even further and he was led into a room where women were posed naked, in quite compromising positions, for eager artists who were trying to master the anatomy of a naked woman. Or so that is what Granville claimed.
He grins crookedly at the sight. "Quite the room, is it not?" Lord Granville piques up from behind him. He turns to face the man and nods. "Quite. Might I stay here? I have found myself needing practice of anatomy as of late and this is the perfect place to do so." He says, a playful glint in his eye.
Granville, of course, picks up on it and nods. "Of course, Lord Bridgerton. Do enjoy yourself." He returns with a knowing smile and a wink before exiting the room. Benedict sits at one of the free easles, one of the other men lighting a cigar and offering it to him. He accepts, and puffs on it as he begins to work.
He could get used to this.
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Genevieve leads you through the party, grabbing two glasses of what looks like scotch off of a passing servant's tray. She settles for meeting her friend, who you quickly learn is the wife of said artist who is throwing the party, on the stairs.
After a while of chatting you learn that the young woman's name is Lucy and her husband is Henry Granville, an artist whose work you always found interesting. You also are clued into the fact that their marriage is one of convenience, rather than love, as Lord Granville has no romantic nor sexual interest towards the opposite sex. You find no issue in what the young couple has, after all, you have seen much worse when it comes to marriages in the ton.
"Viv, might I go explore, or am I to only solicit?" You tease as you push off the wall. She laughs and shakes her head. "I am not your keeper, Y/N. Go and do as you wish, just be careful." She says, a hint of genuine protectiveness seeping through her tone of voice. "I promise. I will find my way back to your shop if anything goes awry." You assure before walking down the steps with a quick wave to both of the women.
You duck into a small room with a door that leads to a balcony after grabbing another glass of scotch from a passing servant. However fun it is coming to these things with Viv, you find them quite overwhelming. You are more attuned to the quietness of your servant's quarters, spending countless hours curled up with a good book that your young mistress so generously gifts you from time to time.
You walk out on the balcony, leaning heavily on the metal railing as you look up at the stars. The scotch, and the fact that you get much drunker much quicker than most, is making a delightfully warm feeling bloom in your chest. You take a deep breath of the fresh air to calm your senses before ducking back into the party.
You make it all of two steps before colliding into a broad chest, which sends your alcohol down the front of your torso.
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He was in that hazy, alcohol-filled room, long enough to get just drunk enough to where he was clumsy. He catches the woman he so foolishly clambered into on his way out of the room he was painting in by the waist, which sends her drink out of her hand and down her front.
"My God, I am so incredibly sorry my lady." He rushes, gazing down at the mess he made. His eyes widen at the sight that lies in front of him.
She's a young woman, young enough that she can not be past the age of two and twenty, in a very revealing corset top and black pants. Her hair is tucked up elegantly, yet a few unruly waves have fallen as a result of the night's activities. Her cheeks are pink, probably from the embarrassment or perhaps even the anger, of getting drenched in scotch.
The liquid drips down her neck, and he follows a drop from her neck to where it travels right between her breasts. The tops are peaking out from being hugged so tight. They are full, so very full. He wonders what it would feel like to run his tongue over the smooth skin, what it would feel like to roll her nipple between his teeth and suck.
He shakes himself out of it and meets her eyes once more before he gets any more aroused than he already is.
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You recognize him immediately as a Bridgerton, though you have no idea which one. He has a silly crooked smile on his face that you cannot seem to draw your eyes from, he also sports the undoubtedly Bridgerton chestnut brown hair.
He has longer hair than the one Penelope speaks of, but only just. Your eyes roam from his face to his chest, where he is wearing only a loose undershirt, his waistcoat long forgotten in drunken activities you're sure. His suspenders hang loose on his shoulders, just barely hanging onto his black trousers.
"You're a Bridgerton." It slips out of your mouth before you can stop it, the effects of three glasses of scotch. He grins wider, chuckling a bit. The noise makes your entire body heat up. "I am. Benedict Bridgerton in fact." He says, his eyes never straying from yours.
"And you are?" He ponders after a moment of silence from you. You jump at the question, having been too distracted by the look of his lips to even notice he was speaking. You clear your throat and adjust your posture. "Y/N L/N." You answer shyly.
"Well, Y/N L/N, can I take you to a room and clean up the mess I made of your top, or is that entirely too forward for a gentleman to ask within mere moments of meeting?" He grins, the alcohol he consumed only ebbing on his already large confidence when it comes to women. You only nod shyly, afraid that if you speak you will make a stuttering fool of yourself.
He offers an arm, which you take happily, and begins to lead you through the party.
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He pulls you into a room and, almost immediately, his hands encompass your waist. "You... are the most stunning woman I have ever had the pleasure of looking at." He murmurs, sending your heart soaring. You rest your hand on his chest, newly emboldened by the liquid courage you have been sipping on the entire night, returning his cheeky smile. "Is it too forward for a lady to say the same within mere moments of meeting?" You return.
He lets out a chuckle when you parrot his past words and he leans down. "A witty woman as well as a beautiful one, what else do you have up your sleeve Miss L/N?" He purrs, running a flattened hand up your back until it meets your hair. He tugs it down from its pins, sending it tumbling over your shoulders.
"Perhaps, if you are lucky Mister Bridgerton, I shall show you." You whisper, leaning in so your lips are but a hair's width away from his. Something dangerous and incredibly intoxicating passes over his features as he lets out a noise, a growl, that causes your core to dampen.
"You are a very forward woman, Y/N. I find it quite... infatuating to say the very least." He whispers before capturing your lips. You close your eyes and tangle one of your hands in his thick hair, the other finding his collar and giving it a slight tug.
He groans into your mouth, his hands enveloping your bum cheeks and pulling you even closer. He wants to feel the rise and fall of your breasts as he makes you pant. And by god does he.
You moan into his mouth as his hands squeeze the soft skin of your ass through your trousers, which gives him the perfect chance to slip his tongue into your mouth. He tastes smoky, like cigars and whiskey. It makes your clit throb painfully.
As if reading your mind, and body, he spreads your legs with his knee and slides his leg between them. His thigh presses against your closed cunt and you gasp, breaking the kiss to throw your head back. He smirks and holds you right where you are by moving his hands to your hips.
"So sensitive." He whispers and groans as you begin to move your hips back and forth against his thigh, chasing the feeling it gives you. "Fuck, you are just full of surprises aren't you darling? I did not even have to tell you what to do, you just did it," He praises, his eyes locked on the place where your clothed core meets his leg.
"Riding my thigh like a bitch in heat. I might have to keep you." He gusts over your shoulder as he begins to kiss the exposed skin there. Oh God, how you would love that. To be able to fuck him whenever you saw fit, yes please Mister Bridgerton. "Please." Is all you manage to strangle out as you begin to grind down on him harder.
He bites down on your shoulder, leaving a bright red mark there, which he smirks at before he slowly guides you to the dark red chaise that lies in the corner of the room. He lays you back, slowly unlacing your corset with his slender fingers. He throws it across the room when it is off, his mouth immediately taking in one of your hardened nipples.
You cry out when he sucks, watching him look up at you with a shit-eating grin that makes your cunt even more soaked than it already is. He sucks and bites your bud before turning his attention to the other, giving it just as much attention. "The least I can do is clean up the mess I made." He whispers over your nipple, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure straight down to your core. Cocky bastard, you think to yourself as you grip his hair.
You are a whimpering, moaning mess by the time his face returns over yours. He presses a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to your lips before sitting up and stripping himself of his suspenders and his shirt before returning his attention to you. He takes off your shoes and then unbuttons your trousers, slowly sliding them down your legs.
He groans lewdly at the sight. Genevieve had insisted quite heavily when she was dressing you up that you forgo panties. She said it made trousers more comfortable, less tight, so of course you agreed. You decide tonight, that if wearing no underwear will illicit that pretty noise from his lips, you will never wear them again.
"God you are soaked. Drenched from riding my thigh and a quick suck to your nipples." He whispers as he kisses the insides of your thighs. You whine and buck your hips up toward his face, which results in him quickly grabbing your hips with one of his hands and pressing you down into the cushion so you are unable to buck and writhe. "Perhaps I was right in my assessment of you, Miss Y/N. You really are just a bitch in heat. So desperate to be full of my cock, painted with my seed." He murmurs before licking a stripe up your slit.
You cry out and grip his hair with both hands, needing something to ground yourself as his tongue swirls around your clit. He lets out a growl at the taste of your dripping cunt, so sweet and yet so tart. Utter perfection. The noise you make in return has him wishing he could drink from your body for the rest of his days, die with you sat atop his face. Riding his mouth to oblivion.
He moves his hand down to his trousers, fumbling with the buttons to free his aching cock. He slides two fingers into your body without warning and you keen, your eyes rolling back as he collects your juices. He pulls his fingers out just as quick as they went in, and spreads your wetness on his length, stroking himself hard as he drinks from you.
"Ben... oh fuck.... so close." You babble as his tongue presses inside your hole, drawing the most heavenly noises from your body. He pulls away just as you start to see stars and you grasp at his hands, tears forming in your eyes from your denied release. "Please... Please..." You sob, desperate for the feeling to come back.
He chuckles deeply, hooking your knees over his shoulders. "I've got you, love." He assures, kissing away your tears before pulling back with a cocky grin that sends your heart fluttering. "You look like a masterpiece, crying for my cock. All flushed and swollen." He murmurs. You do not know if he is talking about you or your pussy, but you never wish for him to stop.
"Please, my lord. Please, please... I need you. I need..." You babble, completely free of any thought other than his pretty dick plunging inside of you. He curses and bends down, claiming your lips with his before thrusting into you without warning. He bottoms out, and both of you moan, the kiss becoming a mess of tongue and tooth alike.
He begins at a brutal pace, slamming into you so hard that the chaise creeks against the hardwood floor. You scream at the heavenly feeling of pain and pleasure, the sound muffled over his lips. Sweat splashes from his collarbone to yours as the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, the sickly sweet smell of sex enveloping your senses.
He grunts and breaks the kiss, holding one of your legs by the calf, his other hand cupping your jaw. Your mouth falls open as soon as his lips are gone, a loud moan coming from somewhere deep within slipping out before you can try and stop it. He grunts and sticks his thumb past your lips, afraid that someone will hear from outside the thin walls.
You happily oblige and close your lips around his digit, swirling your tongue around him to the rhythm of his thrusts. He moans at the sight of you sucking on his thumb like it's a cock, as his cock slams into your pretty pussy. "Fuck. I am keeping you. You are mine," He accentuates the word with a slap to your ass cheek, causing you to cry out over his finger and clench down on his cock. "Forever. No one else will ever-fuck.-be able to fill this sweet hole of yours. It is all mine. You are all mine." He grunts as his thrusts become sloppy.
He yanks his thumb from your mouth and attacks your swollen, throbbing, clit. He rubs it hard and fast, to match the rhythm of his thrusts and you cry out. He quickly intuits that you are as close to climax as he is and bends down, covering your lips with his own so that you can scream freely.
You do as he expected, letting out a long scream into his mouth as stars rush over your vision and your body burns hot. Your juices soak both his pant-covered leg and the velvety fabric of the chaise below. The feeling of your fluttering cunt tightening even further sends him over and he releases deep inside you before he goes limp over your body.
He pushes himself up after a moment, relishing in the sight below him. Your cheeks are flushed, lips swollen and bruised. You have a bite mark on your shoulder, your hair surrounding your head like a messy halo. Perfection. A ruined, beautiful, masterpiece made solely by him.
He brushes the hair out of your face and presses a sweet kiss to your brow. "Might I be privy to those many secrets you were so keen on hiding, Miss L/N?" He teases softly, grabbing a handkerchief from his pocket and beginning to clean the mess of mixed juices on your thighs.
You giggle. "The next time we meet, I promise to tell at least one." You return, your heart fluttering at the way he so delicately slides your trousers back over your legs after cleaning you up. He grins as he buttons them up, his hands encompassing your waist to pull you up to a sitting position.
You use the opportunity to wrap your arms around his neck, and it is his turn to laugh. "Next time, then. I will wait with held breath until then, I assure you." He whispers, helping you into your corset. "But for now, I owe you a lovely night, hm?" He murmurs as he pulls the laces of your corset tight. You sigh and nod. "I would like that very much." You whisper back, resting your head on his shoulder.
He smiles cheekily, "Is it entirely too forward for a gentleman to say he would like to do this every night from now on, mere hours after meeting?" He whispers in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
No, Mister Bridgerton, it is not.
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celestie0 · 3 months
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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]
kickoff ch.2 terms and conditions
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ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)
ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.
ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot
ᰔ chapter. 2/x (probably 12)
ᰔ words. 4.5k
a/n. if you see any typos, no you don't.
nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 :: ch7 :: ch8 :: ch9 :: ch10 (pending)
☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1
♬.*゚playlist
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“And yeah, that’s basically what I’ll ask from him in return,” you say through a mouthful of your cereal in the morning after summarizing the conversation you had with your school’s star soccer player on Instagram last night.
Mina scrolled through the messages as she took another bite of her apple and gave you a questioning look as she set your phone down. “I’m still shocked at the fact that Gojo Satoru, the Gojo Satoru, sent you a message. Also, why does he want to help his horny friend this badly?”
“I don’t know. But will you do it?” You ask her with pleading eyes. “Just one weekend, that’s all it seems like he’s asking for. And then I’ll get what I want from him. You just have to pretend to be interested in his friend for a little bit.”
Mina leans back on the bar stool at the little raised counter in the kitchen. You liked it because it was a little bar space that opened up to the living room, being partially the reason why you convinced her to sign this lease with you. She swallowed before speaking. “I mean, the only reason I didn’t really like his friend that much was because he kept asking me out to a house party instead of an actual date.”
“Yeah, I know, I figured,” you say.
“Also, an 8AM English class is the absolute worst time to hit on someone.” She smiles at you. “But his friend isn’t bad looking. Not exactly my type, maybe a bit too beefy and masculine for me? I don’t know.” She pauses to take another bite of her apple, this time talking through her chewing. “I would say Gojo is more my type.”
He’s probably everyone’s type, you think to yourself. 
“Anyways, yeah, I’ll do it,” she easily agrees. 
“You will?” You gleam at her, your hands clapping together in happiness.
“Yeah, I will. If you think it’ll help you get what you want from him, then I’ll do it,” she smiles at you.
You run over to her, arms curling around her from behind as you say thank you, thank you, thank you and she pats at your forearm for you to ease up on your excessive gratefulness. 
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The weekend rolls around surprisingly fast and the hour that the party’s doors open is steadily approaching. Mina just came home from her work shift and was in the bathroom taking a shower while you sifted through your closet to figure out what to wear. You couldn’t believe you were actually going to an SAE house party. You’ve been to other college parties before, mostly in your first year, but never a fraternity’s, let alone the biggest one on your college campus. Was there some sort of waiting list? Some sort of etiquette that you didn’t know of? Your stomach flips at the prospect.
Your hands pull out a simple black dress that was tucked all the way to the right of your closet. It was a tiny bit wrinkled but it would do. Slipping on the dress, you turned to glance at yourself in the mirror. It had long, skin tight sleeves with a sweetheart neckline and the hem fell to the middle of your thighs, the material soft and silky. You suddenly felt a bit self conscious and ended up taking it off in favor of some ripped blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt instead.
Mina opened the door of the bathroom and stepped into your shared room, wrapped in a towel with her hair clipped up on her head. “Cute fit,” she compliments you as she also makes her way to her closet. “Ugh, I just want to go to bed. Why am I doing this again?”
“Because you love me,” you say.
“Yes, that’s why,” she sighs. She puts on a purple body-con dress that had beautiful sparkles on it, probably more fitting for the club than a house party, but who knows, maybe that ends up being the vibe of the place. 
You both sit on the floor in front of the mirror to do makeup, you finishing first since you wore a little less than her, and you help her draw the wings of her eyeliner. This sort of ritual was always the best before you went out with friends. The getting ready part was almost more fun than the actual going out part. 
A small fight took place between the two of you in terms of who would be designated driver, and Mina finally relents to allowing you to drive. You argued with her that she was doing you a favor, and that if Mina decides she needed some drinks during the night to take the edge off of having to talk to this Gojo Satoru friend, then she should be allowed to do that. Mina grabbed her purse and you grabbed your cross-body fanny pack as well as keys, and you were headed out the door.
As you drove down the street approaching the address, you both noticed a lot of the houses looked very similar with decorative sports flags, gaudy front-lawn decorations, and outside furniture. This was most likely the fraternity house strip of SAE where most of the guys lived and hosted parties. There were living places on campus for the members too, but those were usually for the people that organized the fraternity’s events. Loud approaching bass-boosted music filled the air and it suddenly became challenging navigating through all of the parked cars on the street as the GPS informed you that you were less than 500 feet from your location on the left. You luckily found a spot to park at the cul de sac a little further ahead and then you two were making your way to the house.
“4100, right?” Mina called after you as she shuffled a bit in her heels to catch up, arms crossing over her chest to warm herself up in the cold. You slowed down a bit for her.
“Yeah, this one I guess,” you point up ahead where you spot a group of people approaching the entrance where a guy seemed to be collecting payments. You notice him turn some people away from the door, confirming that there was some sort of screening process for entry, and you’re suddenly a bit anxious.
“Alright, y’all are good to go inside,” the guy at the door chirps to what’s left of the group that lined up before you two. He makes eye contact with you and Mina, straightening himself up a bit. “Ladies! Looking very gorgeous. I like the sort of casual tomboy with the bombshell friend pairing. Can’t say I’ve seen you two around here. Ever been to an SAE party before?”
“Nah, first time,” Mina says as she shivers from the cold.
“Aight, cool, you’ll definitely enjoy it. Ladies enter for free, so go on ahead,” he says, comically gesturing towards the door with both of his arms before he crosses them again and puffs out his chest. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. He has a little name tag that says Itadori Yuuji on it, which you’re almost certain no one even asked him to wear.
As you two make your way inside, you’re instantly reminded of why you hated places like this. Loud music reverberates throughout the entire room as people bustle around everywhere, some people dancing, some people standing, some people walking over to other areas, and a lot of people shamelessly making out. There was a lot more lighting than you were expecting, that sort of warm and dull suburban house lighting that reminds you of your childhood for some reason, but there were flashing lights across the ceiling that gave it more of a party feel. The house was two stories, and the staircase was visible from the entrance, leading up to a hallway at the top with a railing that oversaw the downstairs expanse before stretching out further into unseen territory where you assumed the bedrooms were. Your eyes instantly began scanning the room for any familiar faces, or for one Gojo Satoru. 
“Damn, just the smell of the alcohol alone has me about ready to throw up,” Mina says next to you as she takes a few steps further into the house. You follow behind her as she makes her way into what looks like the kitchen where there’s less people other than those refilling their drinks. She’s quick to pour some vodka into a plastic red solo cup before nonchalantly opening the fridge and pouring some orange juice into it as well. She glances up at you. “Don’t judge me.” You stifle a laugh. 
“Oh shit, sorry man,” a masculine voice behind you says and when you turn around, you’re face to face with quite possibly the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life. 
In all his glory, Gojo Satoru was standing in front of you. Just as the prophecy foretold, he was tall, at least an entire head above you, and irritatingly gorgeous. He was wearing gray sweatpants, untied drawstrings loosely hanging, with a black short-sleeved shirt that was tight around his biceps and lazily tucked into his waistband just at the front. He was holding two drinks in his hands, one clearly with some spillage as droplets fell from the base of it onto the tile of the kitchen, and his piercing blue eyes behind his tacky HO-HO party glasses widened at the sight of you. The guy behind him, who you assumed was the one he was apologizing to just a second ago, gave him a solid slap on the back and muttered a you’re good, dude before turning the corner back into the core of the party, leaving the three of you alone in the kitchen. 
You heard Mina cough a little behind you and you watched as Gojo’s eyes quickly darted to her.
“No way,” you hear Gojo mutter under his breath as he walks past you and makes his way around the kitchen island, setting the drinks in his hand down on the counter. “You’re Mina, right? I’m Gojo Satoru,” he says as if not everyone on campus knows who he is, and sticks his hand out for her to shake and she hesitantly shakes it. “Thanks for coming.” 
“Uh, yeah, sure,” Mina said, shooting you a glance. 
He then turns around and makes his way to you again, hand outstretched for you to shake, and you hesitantly do so as well. You immediately notice how the tips of his fingers feel calloused. “Hey, I’m Gojo Satoru. You’re y/n, right?” 
You nodded, for some reason unable to find your voice, and he peers over the ‘O’s on his glasses to look at you. His eyes were like the sparkling ocean under the sun, a tantalizing shade that sailors probably yearned for during long nights out at sea before they went overboard, chasing after sirens, and eventually drowning. Yikes, that got dark for some reason. But there was something dark about his eyes, too. “Yeah.”
He leans down closer to you, his mouth near your ear, and the fragrance of freshly-washed laundry consumes you. “Thanks, I owe you one. Find me later, ‘kay?” he whispers and you can feel his breath on your neck. The movement has your cheeks embarrassingly burning before he’s pulling away from you. He turns to Mina again. “You’ve met my friend Todo, right? He’s about sixty ounces deep into an insane round of beer pong, you wanna watch?” Gojo asks her with a weirdly wholesome smile on his face.
“How charming…” Mina says as she reluctantly walks over to him, giving you a darting look, and then he’s leading her out into the living room. You stand there in the kitchen, leaning against the island, finally noticing how fast your heart was beating. 
I mean, you knew he would be handsome. You saw all his Instagram pictures, and all the school advertising for the soccer team with his face all over it plastered practically around every corner on campus, but this was your first time seeing him in person and you hated how breathtaking he was. Like, how can people just casually be in his presence? You figured the only way was that they eventually get used to the way he just commands a room when he walks in. You wonder if you’ll ever feel relaxed in his vicinity. Part of you wishes you didn’t fight Mina so hard to be designated driver because now you were itching for a drink to calm your nerves. 
As a group of girls make their way into the kitchen, giggling about something some guy had said to one of them, you suddenly feel a little alone and make your way out into the living room as well. Your hands play with the strap of the fanny pack slung across your chest and just people-watch for a bit. Spotting the game of beer pong over in the corner, you see Mina watching with a bored expression and you let out a small laugh. The man at the end of the table had a ping pong ball in his hand, and you immediately identified him as this Todo guy. Mina’s description was pretty spot on, definitely beefy and masculine, and he was the only one in that corner that had his shirt off for some reason.
He aimed for the opposing side’s remaining two cups of beer, the ball looking comically tiny in his large hand, and when he threw it the ball landed right in one of the cups. A look of excitement flashed across his face before a bunch of the guys started smacking his chest, yelling something like “has to be a bounce shot, dude” and he suddenly looked agitated all over again. A small smile makes its way on Mina’s face and you’re surprised to see it. 
Standing next to her was Gojo, tall and his presence imposing, as he silently watched the rowdy game with his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants and back leaned against the wall. There was a curious expression on his face and you tilted your head to the side, enjoying the moment to just study him for a little bit. 
“I like your fanny pack,” you hear a voice say from behind you that has you twirling around. You look up and find yourself staring at yet another handsome man. This one had dark black hair that was tied up into a man bun with some short tendrils of hair falling onto one side of his forehead.
“Oh, thanks,” you say awkwardly.
“Where are my manners? I’m Geto Suguru, nice to meet you,” he says as he stretches the hand that was not occupied by his drink out to you. 
You shook his hand, noticing calluses on his fingers too. “Nice to meet you, too. I’m y/n. What’s with everyone here and shaking hands? I feel like I’m at a job interview.”
The man in front of you chuckles. “You’re funny,” he says. “Haven’t seen you around here. Which sorority are you in?”
“Oh, uh, I’m not in one. I live with my friend Mina about 20 minutes from campus,” you awkwardly say.
A slightly surprised expression flashes across his face as he nods slowly and you can see it in his face that he’s searching his brain for a follow-up question when someone behind him taps his shoulder.
“Hey, Suguru, do you know what time practice is tomorrow? Itadori-kun swears it’s at three, but I have a meeting at that time, so if that’s true then I’m screwed,” the guy behind Geto says. Sigh. Once again handsome. He was tall, had broad shoulders, and cleanly styled blonde hair with a sharp jaw that made him look like he just stepped out of a James Bond movie.
“Pretty sure it’s at six. I’d check with Satoru, though,” he jutted his chin over in the direction of the beer pong table. “Oh, this is y/n by the way. She’s not in a sorority, but she lives 10 minutes away from campus.” Geto steps to the side a little and the blonde stranger steps into his space.
“20 minutes,” you correct him and this time, you’re the one to stretch your hand out. The man in front of you shakes it, and once again you notice calluses. This must have to do with soccer, then. His handshake was firm, short, and intentional, and you could tell he was probably studying a respectable major. 
“I’m Nanami Kento, but just call me Kento,” he says in a smooth voice. “Excuse me,” he says and he’s making his way past you over to the beer pong table. 
Geto’s glance falls on you again, but suddenly feeling awkward you excuse yourself from him to go use the restroom. You haven’t had this much social interaction in a long time and you needed to get away from the noise for a second. As you make your way past the kitchen into a narrow hallway, you realize you have no idea where the restroom is. One of the door handles has a sock on it, gross, so you ignore it all together. You finally reach a door that could potentially be a restroom, and you’re overjoyed that you don’t hear any voices inside when you knock on it. You allow yourself inside and close the door behind you. 
The bathroom was surprisingly well-kept from what you expect of a frat house. There’s about three different toothbrushes in a round plastic tin on the counter of the sink, but you’re sure that there’s more than three guys that live here so there must be another bathroom upstairs too. Glancing at your reflection, you notice that some of your mascara has smudged a little so you use your finger to wipe the excess off and then you reapply a thin layer of lip balm over your lips. You contemplate actually taking a piss, but you realize you don’t really need to. With a few deep breaths, you’re out into the hallway and almost make it back into the kitchen before bumping into a certain white-haired man at the kitchen entrance.
“Oh, hey, fancy seeing you here again,” Gojo says with a grin and your eye twitches slightly. He was still wearing those HO-HO glasses (Christmas was literally over three months ago) and this time there were some sort of black painted lines underneath both of his eyes. He was extremely hot but definitely somewhat unserious about his appearance.  
Gojo glances down at your empty hands and tips his head to the side a little. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Uhh, water?” You offer.
He lets out a laugh, his hand flying to his stomach, and you realize he thinks you're joking. When your expression doesn’t budge, his smile drops. “Seriously?”
“I’m DD for Mina,” you say as you walk around him and make it into the kitchen where you find a pitcher of water. Your heart still races a bit at the sight of Gojo, but you enjoy the peace and quiet that the kitchen provides you away from the party around the corner. 
“So, y/n,” you hear Gojo say behind you. You’re not quite used to hearing your name casually roll off his tongue. He’s suddenly at your side, leaning back against the edge of the island and crossing his arms as he looks down at you to watch you pour your water. It takes everything in you to not glance over at how nice the muscles of his arms probably look across his chest. “What exactly are those terms and conditions you spoke of?”
Your face flushes slightly. You remind yourself that this is the man that you were Instagram DMing at two in the morning earlier this week. It feels weird, considering at the time he seemed more like a made-up character in your mind but now that you’ve actually met him, you realize that he is indeed a living, breathing, real person. When you take a sip of your water, you realize just how parched you really are. 
“Okay, hold on a sec, there’s no way you’re just drinking water all night long. There’s some non-alcoholic punch in the other room. Be right back,” he says and he’s gone from your side. You miss the heat from his body. 
He returns shortly after with a cup of punch in his hands and slides it to you across the counter. You grip onto it and stare into the deep red liquid. 
“Okay, so,” he says as he leans back against the counter again, this time a bit closer so his arm was brushing against your shoulder. Your skin burns at the contact. “Your terms and conditions?”
You found it a bit odd that he was so adamant to satisfy these conditions of yours, considering he already won. You had successfully brought Mina to the party, and it seemed like she was getting along with his friend Todo. It shouldn’t really matter what you wanted from him anymore. You suppose that maybe he was just a man of his word. 
You sigh, remaining facing the counter of the island as you glance at all the types of alcoholic bottles and cans laid out on it. “Well, my request is pretty simple.”
“Hmm,” you hear him hum inquisitively beside you.
You finally turn to face him and you instinctively put a hand over your heart as though to reprimand it to stop beating so fast in his presence. He notices the movement. “I want you to get me onto the soccer field at a few of your practices or games so I can take film photos of the players.” 
Gojo takes his HO-HO glasses off and sets them down on the counter, a serious expression on his face. You notice how nice his eyelashes are. 
“Your terms and conditions are…that you want me to help you take photos of a bunch of sweaty dudes?” he asks. “You’re kinda freaky.”
You roll your eyes and send him an annoyed look. “They’re not for me, they’re for one of my class assignments. I’m taking this film photography class, and my professor is obsessed with the school’s soccer team. Pretty much all of his lectures start with goal-by-goal breakdowns of your guys’ most recent game. If I submit some stellar-looking film photos of the action on the field, he’d give me a good grade and a good letter of recommendation.” You notice Gojo tense up slightly in front of you. “I’m trying to get into this one graduate program.” 
You watch his chest rise and fall with a deep breath as he turns his head to look away from you and instead look straight ahead at the fridge. Long lashes flutter against the top of his cheeks every time he blinks. His arms that were crossed at his chest rise a little as he shrugs. “Yeah, I guess I can do that for you.”
You can’t control the smile that spreads across your face when he acquiesces. This was a really good opportunity for you. You pick up the punch that he gave you and almost bring it to your lips when he speaks again, interrupting the motion.
“Your pictures are pretty good, by the way,” he says, still staring straight forward at the fridge.
Your mouth gapes slightly. “How have you seen my photos?”
He looks down at you, an eyebrow raised. “I follow you on Instagram, dummy. Also, you never followed me back.”
You’re standing there a little stunned at the conversation. He speaks to you so casually as if you haven’t just met him tonight. “Sorry, I only really follow back my friends…”
“Are we not friends?” It’s your turn to let out a laugh, thinking he’s joking, only to realize he’s not.
“I’ve literally just met you…speaking of, I should probably pour my own drink,” you say as you slide the punch back onto the counter top over to him and turn away to head in the direction he had gone to retrieve it for you. You hear him mutter an ouch from behind you at the implied accusation you just made but you remind yourself that this man is essentially a stranger to you, and the only things you know about him are things you’ve heard from other strangers. 
You spot Mina still by the beer pong table, this time heavily invested in the game and she even flirtatiously blows on Todo’s ping pong ball for good luck before he chucks it at the opposing teams’ cups, entirely missing, but Mina reaches up to place a kiss on his cheek regardless. Your jaw drops at the sight. She was going to be answering a lot of your questions in the morning. 
You find the punch table, pour yourself some, and realize that it was indeed non-alcoholic and pretty damn good. Mina finally makes eye contact with you from across the room and she leaves the table to make her way to you.
“Y/n! OMG, I was lookin’ for you, girl!” She sounded a bit tipsy. “What time is it? I totally forgot I have a stupid discussion post thingy due at midnight.”
You pull your phone out of your fanny pack and read the time that says 11:12PM. It was still a bit early to leave a party, but you supposed it was up to Mina. “It’s 11:12PM. There’s no traffic so it would probably just take us around 10-15 minutes to get home. You wanna leave?”
She sighs and turns around to look at Todo, who was giving her a sleazy look and mouthing what’s wrong, babe? Mina shakes her head at him pitifully and then turns her head back to you with sulking shoulders. “Yeah…stupid professor making those posts 25% of our entire grade…”
You laughed and made sure she grabbed her purse before you two headed towards the exit. You bumped into Geto again on your way out and gave him a polite goodbye and then you two were out of the door, loud party noises getting further and further as you made it to the car. Mina trailed a bit behind you but eventually made it over to the passenger side door. You unlocked the car and she made it inside, but before you do the same, your phone pings with a notification from Instagram.
|| 11:16PM Gojo Satoru: I’ll let you know our practice and game schedule for the next week. Just let me know what times you’re interested in stopping by
A small twinge of excitement fills your chest and you’re suddenly feeling some sort of high as you slide into the driver’s seat of the car. Mina’s mumbling something like turn on the heateeerrr beside you, and you put the car in drive then take the two of you home.
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a/n. apologies for any formatting errors since i'm copy/pastin from my ao3! i've tried to manually fix them all but i'm too lazy to read the whole thing to fix it lol. hope you enjoyed!
➸ take me to chapter three!
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Fluffy 🌸 with Clone Wars Anakin please? 🥺🥺 with maybe Ahsoka and Obi-Wan shipping them?
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The Long Game
Pairing: Clone Wars Era!Anakin x Jedi!Knight Reader 
Requested: Yes | No
Warnings: Nothing too bad, but due to the nature of the Clone Wars obviously there is potential mentions of death/loss/wounds etc. I am Australian and therefore swear words aren’t worth a warning for me, but I shall place a warning here regardless. As always, let me know if you think there should be something listed here. 
Words: 1.5k - sorry its very short, I'm hoping a part 2 will be requested <3
Author’s Notes: ahhhhh! Thank you for the request @darthgloris I hope this is okay I had a brief idea and I ran with it, hope its still fluffy enough for you! 🥰 This was requested via my Emoji Request Prompts
Anakin was nothing if not arrogant, egotistical and, surprisingly talented to boot. As a youngling he excelled, as a Padawan learner he saved Senator and friend Padmé Amidala’s life more than once. Now, as General Skywalker, Anakin felt like he had grown into himself, grown into his power. It felt limitless, he was limitless. Anakin often had dreams of spreading himself thin, extending his power across the galaxy like a blanket, keeping everyone and everything safe.
He thought highly of himself, it wasn’t a secret. And, he didn’t think it was particularly a problem. He was the Chosen One, was he not? If anyone in the Jedi Temple was allowed to peacock a bit, it was him. 
Well, that’s how Anakin rationalised it to himself anyway. Besides, Anakin did not like playing the long game. What was the point when he could sieze everything he wanted now? 
Regardless, he had a sharp learning curve when it came to his own Padawan learner, Ashoka Tano. The snippy young girl challenged him more than most. He saw so much of himself in her, the power, the strength, the raw talent. Frustratingly, Anakin saw his faults in her too. Occasionally, the arrogance being something that Anakin couldn’t ignore. Like right now for example. 
“Please Kestis the only reason you were moved from youngling to Padawan,” Ashoka paused, pointing her spoon at her young red-headed friend. “Is because the council wanted to try and mellow out your Master with the responsibility of a child.” 
Anakin cringed as the young boy - Cal Kestis - pouted at the breakfast table. Anakin could sense Obi-wan’s displeasure from beside him, he saw his old master holding his tongue, allowing Anakin to take the floor in order to berate his Padawan. 
Unfortunately, she had a point. And, embarrassingly enough, Ashoka’s argument came straight from the kitchen, so they say. Well, his mother, Shmi, used to say. Anakin remembered expressing the same frustration only a few weeks prior. Jedi Knight, Jedi Master, Council member and friend, Y/N L/N, was unable to join Anakin and Ashoka on a crucial mission in the outer rim, due to the passover of her new, young apprentice: Cal Kestis. It perhaps wasn’t the most fair or patient thing for Anakin to do, but he blamed the boy and focused all of his frustration on the twelve-year-old. 
Fuck it, Anakin thought. He had to admit to himself, he was a little jealous of the boy. He could not help but want to be the center of your attention, at all times. Which isn’t a very Jedi thing to want. But Anakin wanted more. He always did. He always felt distracted, like he was slipping away from his mental fortitude the more he thought of you. You were playing some kind of long game with him, and he didn’t like it, the guessing, the pining - it all kept him up at night more than the war had. 
Anakin supposed he was ought to be worried about it, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He pined after you, and all he wanted was for you to maybe, even consider him more than a work colleague. 
“Ahsoka.” Anakin said sternly, as he pushed his Jedi mandated food around his Jedi mandated plate with his Jedi mandated fork, not bothering to look up at his young charge. “Watch your snippy mouth.” 
“She’s not wrong, Master.” Meekly, Cal Kestis mirrored General Skywalker across the table. Anakin felt for the young boy then. Anakin looked up, finally taking in the boy. With his fiery hair and splattering of freckles across his face, he seemed inherently sad, with his lips held tight in a line. Anakin couldn’t help but remember the same expression on his own face as he made his way around Watto’s junkyard. 
“Do you not like your Master, young Kestis?” Obi-wan sensed Anakin’s mind was far, far away, the anxiety rolling off him in thick waves. 
Cal looked up, quickly, at the two Jedi knights in front of him. He felt like he was in shock, as if the air had been torn from his lungs. Of all the questions he expected to be asked, that was not one of them. 
“No!” Cal defended, adamantly. “No! Well yes!” The young Padawan could feel the heat rise to his pale face, heating the back of his neck. General Kenobi quirked an eyebrow at the boy, urging him to continue. Kestis sighed, gathering his thoughts once more. He was embarrassed. “I am afraid I am too attached to Master L/N.” He started. Anakin felt his lip twitch, fighting a smile at the honesty from the young learner. Cal continued, “I don’t want to let her down, but my lightsaber skills are not where she wants them to be, I need more training but I am afraid to ask.” 
From the corner of his eye Anakin watched as Obi-wan opened his mouth. He knew what his old master would say: Just ask, Padawan. That is what the master is there for, to teach. But Anakin knew what it felt like to want more. 
“I would be happy to provide you with additional combat training, Padawan Cal Kestis.” Anakin leant back in his chair, both hands happily resting behind his head, left ankle at home on his right knee, lips comfortably in a smirk. 
Long game it was. 
Your eyes scanned the meals room in the Temple for your Padawan learner. You knew that you could use the force to locate him, if you wanted. But, your relationship with Cal was still so new, and somehow that felt like encroaching on the young boy’s privacy. 
Besides, there was another presence in the large dining hall that almost overwhelmed you. Anakin Skywalker. 
Arrogant, talented, intelligent, calculated, The Chosen One, handsome, flirtatious. You weren’t sure where you stood with Anakin. You longed to call him friend, but you were ultimately convinced he saw you little more as a colleague. 
Despite all that though, he was a hard man to escape at the best of times. And now, since Cal and Anakin’s Padwan, Ahsoka Tano, were friends, you knew that Anakin would always be around. 
You couldn’t help the schoolgirl flutter that it striked into you. It was exciting, you supposed, to finally have something a bit easy on the eye about constantly. It certainly made the war a little easier, to do missions with Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker. 
Eventually, Cal’s beautiful bright hair shone like a beacon for you. You began to weave your way across the room. You couldn’t help to admit that you’ve become attached to him, you deeply cared for him, his wellbeing. As much as you loved the Jedi, you often thought of Cal playing, running free with kids his own age. Not becoming a soldier on the front lines of an intergalactic war. Perhaps that was why you slacked on Cal’s training. You simply wanted him to be loved, to be happy, to be a child. 
All of the fondness you held so tightly quickly got packed away once you realised who Cal was sat with. Approaching the breakfast table you clocked Anakin’s relaxed figure. The effortlessly beautiful set of his lips, the way that his eyelashes curled upwards, you were convinced his demeanour was larger than life. And, maybe, perhaps, you let your eyes wander for a beat longer than what was socially acceptable. 
Gently you placed your hand on Cal’s shoulder, perhaps it was because you were his Master, or maybe it was something deeper, something maternal, but you always felt more at ease when you had him close. With a slight bow of your head, you opened:
“Morning to you Master Kenobi, Ahsoka.” You took a moment to lick your lips, your whole mouth had gone dry, but you tried desperately to save yourself from Anakin’s piercing gaze. “General Skywalker.” The rest greeted you verbally, but Anakin said nothing, just a simple tilt of his head. You held Anakin’s gaze, his blue eyes held something else in them, you felt like he was playing some kind of game. You didn’t mind game, but only if you knew the rules, and Anakin was one to make up the play as he went along. You felt Cal clear his throat, his body lurching under your hand.
Finally, you broke the contact with Anakin, ruffiling Cal’s hair, and placing his braid behind his ear. “If you’d excusae us, my Padawan and I have much to do.” 
Anakin waited for at least 30 seconds for you and your Padawan to start walking away before he turned in his chair to follow you out with his eyes. 
Ahsoka watched as her usually oh-so-clever and suave and calculating Master watch Cal Kestis and his Master leave the dining hall like a Lothal Cat waiting for its owner to return. She couldn’t help but smile, Anakin’s pining was hilarious, and Master L/N was a good choice. She turned to share a look with Master Kenobi, and to Ahsoka’s delight he was chuckling softly to himself, coving his smile with his hand, playing it off as if he was simply stroking his beard. 
Ahsoka knew Anakin thought he was playing some kind of long game, but it was going to be a painfully long pining. Not if she was going to have anything to do with it.
------
P.S This is a side account, my main is @mayhemories, so I will be answering any comments with that account but rest assured it is still me :) <3
Much love, El. 
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mysterystarz · 14 days
Text
kiss me maybe:
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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
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.”
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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.
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“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.”
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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.
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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.
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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?!”
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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.
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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.
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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.”
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“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.”
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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.
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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.
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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.
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“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.
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if you got this far, thank you for reading <3!!
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csuitebitches · 1 year
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Going From a Fixed Mindset to a Growth Mindset
Lesson #1: growth is not linear. You will not improve drastically overnight. As I’ve stressed this before, things take time and consistency and concentration.
A fixed mindset is basically a belief that the person you’re born as - your intelligence and talent - are fixed. They cannot be changed, no matter what.
Science has shown that this is not true. It’s 100% possible to get smarter over time and with dedicated effort.
This is what a growth mindset is - believing that you can be better over time, and that your current level of intelligence and talent is temporary.
People with fixed mindsets are insecure, and it shows. Fear of failure; taking constructive criticism to heart; feelings of jealousy when someone they know is doing well… we’ve all known a person like this, and been this person ourselves at some point in our life.
Growth mindset is therefore the opposite but the effects are as grounding; it can help battling anxiety, depression, burnout issues, behavioural issues and so on.
I understand that a lot of you don’t have people in your life with a similar mentality of personal growth. I’m therefore reopening my Discord. My followers can meet, connect and help each other out.
Now, how does one transition from a fixed to a growth mindset?
Here are some things I think could help:
1. Detaching yourself from the definition of failure
If you’ve already decided the outcome of a certain situation without even trying, then you’re still stuck in a fixed mindset. Things like “there’s no point in me applying for that job because I don’t have the skills and I won’t get it anyway” - applying for that job wouldn’t hurt, even if you don’t get it. Stop limiting your opportunities that you never know could actually work out. A growth mindset person will always try to make most of the opportunities they have.
2. Not getting attached to any outcomes
Don’t get attached to favourable or unfavourable outcomes. When something goes well, have gratitude in your heart but don’t let it get to your ego. Life is about constantly learning. Don’t get attached to compliments and don’t get disheartened by criticism.
3. Actively working on yourself
You can learn a language at any age. You can start learning how to dance or sing or ride a horse at any age, if you’re doing it for the pleasure of learning (getting into competitive stages could be challenging if you’re not young). Someone who works on themselves has a growth mindset.
4. Stop self depreciating yourself
If I see one more IG bio that says “I’m so boring uwu” I will literally throw hands. Stop talking shit about yourself. Classic fixed mindset case. It’s childish and people pleasing behaviour.
5. Stop the comparison game
Stop resenting the people around for the good work they do in their life/ if their life is easy. We all have our challenges, whether we show them publicly or not. The more you work on your inner peace and inner self, the less you’ll feel the need to compare yourself to someone else. Jealousy is a disease and a sign of a fixed mindset.
6. Appreciate and thank yourself for being you.
If you’re nice to your mum, siblings, friends when they need your support… you can be nice to yourself too. Growth mindset does not come from berating yourself.
7. Recognise mistakes and take accountability
Admitting that you’re wrong is never easy. However, I’ll always have respect for someone who can admit that they messed up, rather than someone who will make up stories to justify their antics.
8. Provide yourself with at least 3 productive self-care hours a week
Self care here doesn’t mean skin care or hair care. I mean brain care. You feed your brain good things that it needs to stay calm and ever-growing.
These could include: brain games, mediation, a hobby, watching an educational documentary, doing a short online course, reading… anything that’s good for your brain.
9. Stop being a chameleon
Have you ever met those sort of people who will do anything to fit in? It could adopting that group’s mannerisms, thought processes, opinions… now, to an extent, that is normal and subtle. However, when it starts going too far to a point where you can’t be yourself anymore, thats a problem. In my opinion, that’s an example of not being able to practice your growth mindset publicly.
Privately, you may be growth oriented - but it needs to reflect in your words and actions. If you’re holding yourself back in doing certain things because you’re afraid of what other friends will think of you, you need better friends. Embrace people who have a growth mentality.
10. Using social media for better purposes
I made a separate Instagram account where I only follow educational stuff - think history, geography, arts and architecture, science, tech, business - and absolutely no people. It’s my way of using social media to ensure I learn more. Social media may be the devil, but you can be smart and alter it to your purposes, to give you that kick that you need to educate yourself.
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angel-eyes05 · 16 days
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What's In A Name
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pairing: roronoa zoro x fem!reader
summary: as a master thief, you pride yourself on never getting caught. that is until you're caught by the straw hats as you try stealing from their ship. unable to turn you in to the authorities just yet, they'll have to make due with storing you on the going merry in the meantime. but, your time in confinement has allowed you to get particularly close to a certain swordsman. how close the two of you get is to be decided though.
warnings/info: nsfw mdni, oral sex (fem receiving), alcohol consumption, drunk/tipsy sex, face riding, my own sex headcanons for zoro are VERY clear here lmao ,takes place in between jaya and skypiea (please pretend theres more time at sea in between those arcs cause this will not work otherwise OK THANKS), this is for the pre-time skip zoro girlies (he's 19 pre-time skip dont come for me), no use of y/n, the first half of this is just cute shenanigans between reader and the straw hats. its a lot of character building stuff but i like it.
word count: 6.3k
notes: HI GUYS IM BACK IVE MADE MY RETURN I FOUND SOMETHING TO WRITE ABOUT!!!! and its the longest fic ive ever written too god damn what a comeback lmao. ok so i started watching one piece and im head over heels in love with this man...but i'm only up to water 7 rn so i only know how to properly write for pre-time skip zoro so thats how this is gonna go. i was looking for zoro/one piece fics to read but theyre literally all established relationship ones which aren't my cup of tea so im doing it myself lmao. also i didnt proofread i got too lazy sorry if some stuff doesnt make sense sorry sorry sorry but im a simple lazy tired girlie lmao enjoy!!
dividers by: @cafekitsune
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You didn’t know any of their names.
You had been aboard the Going Merry for about three weeks now, and you still hadn’t learned anyone’s names. Granted, your reason for being there wasn’t to make friends anyway. That wasn’t particularly easy to do, being tied up in some storage closet and all. 
Being one of the few residents who actually lived on Jaya had allowed you to pick up a skill or two when it came to stealing. Pirates with big bounties and even bigger treasures left their ships unattended at the docks, leaving you with some perfect quick heists from time to time. Some steals were easier than others. As much as you believed in your talents, most of the time your ability to get out unscathed was based purely on the luck of the draw. It wasn’t an easy life, many recent nights leaving you with more injuries than berries and gold pieces, but it was all you knew having lived here for so long. 
After having taken a break from heists for a bit, you finally laid your eyes on a ship worth stealing from. A pirate ship with a goat out in front and seemingly orange trees next to the helm. Most of the ships at the dock had been there for a while, leaving the pirates on board used to your tricks already. Being low on cash was another factor. So, after a bit of planning, you made your way onto the ship.
Earlier, you had found that one of the windows to a cabin had been left open, so you decided to make your entrance through there. You gathered your things and dove into the crystal blue water by the dock. Once you made it to the back of the ship, you took your rope, with your own handmade grappling hook at the end, and swung it to hook on the window sill. Luckily for you, it stuck the landing on the first try. You smirked to yourself and used the hook as leverage to climb up onto the ship. Unfortunately, this seemed to be the ship’s bathroom. Not super ideal. You’d have to venture more out into the ship. But with this came the risk of getting caught. Given your dire circumstances though, it was a risk you were willing to take.
With an attempt to make as little creak as possible, you slightly opened the door into the rest of the interior. Coast was clear so far. Suddenly, a shake rattled throughout the interior. You tumbled onto the floor, pushing open a door due to your unbalance. What the fuck was that, you thought to yourself. It quickly became no matter though, when you noticed the door had opened up to a room with a treasure chest tucked away in the back. Jackpot. You slyly made your way into the room and shut the door behind you. 
The room was neatly kept, with bookshelves, a couch, two sleeping hammocks, and a desk with navigation tools on it. There was even a bar. Though temptation pursued at you, you had to stay on task. While making your way over to the chest, you heard different creaks vibrating across the walls of the ship. You prayed to yourself that it was just the wood’s reaction to the waves. As you had predicted, the chest was locked, so you searched your bag for anything that could key the lock. 
Time became of the essence quickly as the thuds and creaks on the ship grew louder and louder. Finally, the lock to the chest made a perfect click, as the chest unlocked. You lifted the roof of the chest to find a sight for sore eyes: jewels and gold galore. This was it, you were set. You were so in awe with the vision before you, that you had failed to notice the woman standing behind you. The image you saw in one of the emeralds was a tall figure, with jet-black hair just below her shoulders, and dazzling blue eyes. “Looking for something?” the woman questioned, almost sarcastically. You seemed to have forgotten rule number one of thieving. Remember to lock the door behind you.
Quick on your feet, you whip around to throw a punch in her face, but her reflexes seem to be quicker than yours by the way she catches your fist. You then attempt to kick out her legs. The image you see next shakes you to your core. A hand, seeming to appear out of thin air, attaches itself to your calf. The hand then slowly raises your fear-frozen body into the air, dangling you upside down like a party toy. You attempt to throw more hits at her, all seeming to be in vain though. You kick and scream, like a child throwing a tantrum, in an attempt to get out. The woman looks out into the hallway and signals over another one of her companions. Fuck, this is turning sour fast. Before you can make out any other features of the man, besides his cartoonishly long nose, he uses his slingshot to pelt a rock towards your forehead. Your vision goes black as the rest of the pirates rush into the room.
The rough fibers of the rope tying your wrists together were the first thing you felt as you woke up. This was quickly followed by the underlying nausea from the waves rocking the boat, reminding you why you preferred to stay on land. You attempted to stand up, but your dizziness and the rope tying you to the floor weren’t letting you get very far. Suddenly, the door to whatever room you were in swung open, and the group of 7 pirates living on board entered the room. You slinked yourself along the back wall, attempting to disappear into your skin. You weren’t sure what felt worse: The fear of what they were going to do to you, or the embarrassment that you had been doing this for so long and still got caught.
Nope, definitely the embarrassment.
The man, no boy was a better word to describe him, standing in the middle of them attempted to speak to you before a woman with short orange hair cut him off. “If you think we’re gonna let you get off easily just because we’re also pirates, you’d be sorely mistaken!” she spoke, fiery anger lacing her words. The tall woman from earlier put her hand on her shoulder, calming her down, and walked out towards you. You tried to scoot away as much as you could as she crouched down to your level. 
“Listen, we want this to be over as much as you do. We would love nothing more than to get you off our ship and drop you off at the nearest island. But unfortunately for us, that would mean having to find a group of marines to hand you over to, who we aren’t the best of friends with right now. And we can’t drop you back off at Jaya since we’re too far by this point. So, for now, we’ll just have to keep you tied down here if that works out with you.” You began to speak before the woman cut you off. “You don’t have much of a choice in the matter by the way.”
She stood back up and began to exit the room, the other pirates following her except for two. The boy with the straw hat and another man, with striking green hair and three swords lying in a holster on his belt. The boy looked somberly at you as if he was against this whole idea. But the green-haired one just stared at you. As uncomfortable as it made you feel, you couldn’t help staring back into his piercingly soft eyes. “Come on, let’s go,” the green-haired man said to the boy, finally breaking eye contact and turning his back to leave. The boy followed him shortly after. As he closed the door, you had nothing left to focus on except for the itchiness of the rope, the empty stuffiness surrounding the storage room, and your worsening seasickness.
The following weeks had the same routine. Each of the pirates on board took individual shifts watching you during the day when they were just out at sea. The strange reindeer creature would watch you when they were out on islands. The first shift was taken by the tall black-haired woman. She would come in at the break of dawn to make sure you didn’t find some way to escape at night. You two would sit in silence for a little more than two hours, asking and answering some questions before switching spots with the blonde one. His company was strange, with him hitting on you at random points in your conversations, but he always brought you breakfast in the morning. As much as he made you uncomfortable sometimes, you couldn’t deny that his cooking was the best you’d had in years. He’d even let you take a hit off his cigarettes if you ever asked, so his visits had its perks. 
The next shift was taken by the orange-haired one. The first thing she would always do when walking into the room was ask you how creepy the blonde one was. The answer varied on the day. Once she warmed up to you, she would bring you tangerines from the trees out on the deck. As the days passed, she eventually explained that the treasure you attempted to steal belonged to her, which you begrudgingly apologized for. On some level, you felt bad. These seemed to be small-time pirates, just trying to get by like you were. The more you learned about each of them, the worse you felt about your actions towards them. 
Around lunchtime, the long-nosed one would bring you your meal, cooked again by the blonde man. This member would go into detail about his next invention he was working on in his workshop. You admired his passion and energy towards his craft. His rants and rambles were normally interrupted by the reindeer creature coming in for his shift, causing intense, yet entertaining, arguments to break out between the two of them. The reindeer was the sweetest of all the crew members, always checking in on your health and helping you with your seasickness. He would talk about his home and his experiences there. You developed a pity for the creature. His presence was calming, and you felt as if you could let your guard down around him. That would change as soon as the straw hat boy would come bouncing into the room, scaring both you and the animal. You would soon come to learn the energetic boy was the captain of the ship, which shocked you. But you soon came to understand why. His crew had a massive respect for him, even if he was the root of half their problems.
Being on the ship, you got extremely close to all the pirates. Even the tall woman from before seemed to respect you in some way. You enjoyed all of their company. There was something strange about them though. One morning early in your stay on the ship, you could’ve sworn you’d heard the tall woman say something to the rest of the crew. 
“Whatever you do, don’t tell her your name. Your name is your biggest secret.”
You didn’t know any of their names. You had thought you heard some of them speak it to each other in passing conversations, but not enough to remember who was who. You had bonded with them, but if someone put a gun to your head and told you to name your prison guard pirates, you’d be dead in seconds.
Except for one.
Zoro seemed to be his name. He would come in for the last shift. His presence didn’t frighten you, but it slightly intimidated you. His habit of carrying his swords everywhere he went wasn’t helping. He was silent his entire shift, normally dosing off halfway through after spending around an hour sharpening his swords You didn’t even attempt to make conversation with him. You found out his name when the captain would yell for him to get back to his sleeping quarters. “Zoro! Your shift’s done, you can sleep for real now!” he shouted across the hall the first time it happened. Zoro almost bounced up from his sleep and gave you one look before bolting out of the room to catch up to the captain. You could hear the echoes of their bickering from down the hall as you giggled to yourself. At least he didn’t seem to always be that stern.
It seemed crazy to you. His name was the only one you knew, yet you knew the least about him. He had hardly said 5 sentences to you in the three weeks you had been on the boat. His stoicism was one of the things that drew you into him though. Something about his demeanor, how intensely he would sharpen his swords, how his worries seemed to melt away the minute he escaped into a slumber, and how alive he seemed when he was with his crew. It was enticing. You wanted to know more. You attempted asking him questions about himself, but the most you would get were one to two-word answers. The most you got from him was when your seasickness finally got to you, causing you to puke up the dinner the blonde one made for you. “Woah, are you okay?” he asked concernedly, shooting up from his seat. When your only response was a cough and more puke, he ran out of the room to go get the reindeer. One thing he failed to do was close the door behind him. 
You speculated your options. You had no idea where you were. You could be out in the middle of the ocean. Or you could be right about to dock at land. If you managed to scrape yourself about the ever-loosening rope and sneak out, you’d be free. You’d never have to worry about these pirates again. 
At this point though, did you want to?
You took too long to decide, the reindeer rushing into the room with his medical kit, the blonde one short behind him. As the reindeer gave you a dose of medicine and cleaned up your mess and the blonde one held your hand and consoled you, your attention stayed by the doorframe. Zoro leaned against the wood, watching the work from afar. What shocked you most of all was his face. For a man who seemed so disinterested in you and your existence, his brows were furrowed, his cheeks had a light pink stain on them, and a slight frown invaded his face. He was concerned. Maybe even a little nervous. But why? He’d never shown any sort of emotion towards you before other than sleepiness. Once the reindeer and the blonde one left, he continued with his shift. You noticed something though. He sat closer to you than he normally did. 
You couldn’t tell, but you were blushing the rest of his shift.
Once he left, you sat in silence, thoughts racing through your mind, until you finally fell asleep.
You noticed a change in his behavior in the next few days. When you would ask him a question, he would respond now. And with more than just a “yes” or “no” too. He had more energy around you and wouldn’t spend his whole shift asleep. He would even let out a chuckle now and then. You didn’t know what you had done differently to get him like this, but you liked him like this. He was sweeter than he let on. 
Something had changed in you too though. On the occasions, you would catch yourself looking over his appearance. The more you observed, the more you realized how handsome he was. His clear, warm skin, his hypnotic eyes, his striking hair. You caught his appearance giving you butterflies when he would walk into your storage room. Your heart skipping a beat when he would give you even the smallest smile. You would stare even more when he would nap during his shift. Noticing certain things. The way his breath would hitch sometimes. How he always slept with his mouth open and would wake himself up sometimes with his dry mouth coughs. How his chest rose and fell with his soft breaths. How fighting with a sword in his mouth probably made his tongue stronger than other men you’ve met. You felt weird about it sometimes. Almost like some freakish stalker. But you would feel better about yourself whenever you would catch him staring at you out of the corner of your eye. 
As time went on, the crew began to give you some more freedom. The tall woman began leaving some of her archeology books in the storage room to keep you entertained. The orange-haired one would show you all her marked-up maps. The long-nosed one would even let you out of the rope to test his inventions from time to time. With the door locked of course. And then, the big display came. One day, during everyone’s shift, they told you their names. The blonde one was Sanji. The orange-haired one was Nami. The reindeer was Chopper. The long-nosed one was Usopp. Their captain was Luffy. And the tall woman, who initiated your imprisonment, was Robin. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to you. With each passing shift, you grew more excited for the next. To learn the next pirate’s name, and with that, their story. Until the last shift of the day came. And you realized.
You already knew his name.
“My name’s Zoro,” he said quietly. “I know,” you replied, bluntly. 
Something felt different about this shift. You didn’t feel the same excitement you normally felt when seeing him. Without your connection to him before, his being the only name you knew, something about him just didn’t excite you as much. Now he noticed your behavior change. “You okay?” he inquired. “Mhm,” you responded in monotony. The rest of his time there was spent in silence. 
You felt bad about what you were doing. This wasn’t his fault. Yet you were acting like this. It was almost as if the two of you swapped places. He was now the one trying to dig information out of you. And you gave him nothing more than blank faces and empty words. You wished you could figure out why you were acting like this, but you had no clue.
Today though, the crew was going to take an extra step towards including you. Throughout your time on the Going Merry, you had only left your little storage room prison a few times. To go to the bathroom and visit the kitchen on special occasions. But you hadn’t seen the sun in weeks. After proving to the crew you had changed, they planned a little surprise for you.
Robin woke you up earlier than usual. “Is everything ok?” you asked, still half asleep. Robin just smiled at you. “Come on, get up.” You looked at her confused, as she walked over to your restraints, untying you from the hook keeping the rope down. She took you by your restraints and walked you out to the room. The mix of drowsiness and confusion left you slightly panicked as you realized she was walking you out to the deck. She opened the door to a still-dark morning. 
The rest of the Straw Hats were sitting out on the deck, just conversing and eating an extra early breakfast, courtesy of Sanji. They all turned to you once you and Robin walked out. “What’s going on,” you asked, still very confused. “On Thursdays, we all like to get up early and sit out and watch the sunrise. And we were talking about it, and we felt like you should join us this time,” Nami smiled. She stood up and pranced over to you, mouth slightly agape and speechless, and took you over to sit in between her and Zoro. You turned to Zoro, overwhelmed with emotions. 
It had been so long since you felt a part of a community of people. You never exactly fit in with the ruthless bands of pirates coming and going on Jaya. Finally feeling connected to people, especially after you wronged them so horribly, brought you happiness you hadn’t felt in ages. 
A singular “I-” was all you could manage to get out, a tear trickling down your cheek. “Just enjoy it. They’ll be at each other’s throats again in a minute,” he joked, getting a soft laugh out of you. He smiled gently, brushing the tear off your cheek. His finger lingered there longer than expected. You blushed. The butterflies were back and you caught yourself staring again.
“What’s that supposed to mean!” Nami interrupted. “Well, it’s true!” Zoro retorted, leaning over you to yell at Nami. The two began arguing as you noticed the sun starting to peak out over the horizon. “Shut up you two, you’re gonna make her miss it!” Usopp and Luffy yelled. They stopped bickering once they also noticed the sky begin to turn orange. 
The pinks and oranges mixed together in a beautiful watercolor painting as the sun reflected its image on the ocean. The soft waves bobbed the ship up and down in a calming hypnotic motion, almost putting you back to sleep. The beauty of it all was so serene. Against popular opinion, you always preferred sunrises to sunsets. The representation of a new day beginning. It gave you hope in your most dire situations. 
You lifted your head back to see the colors slowly spreading to the rest of the sky. Everyone to your right was in the same headspace you were like they were in some sort of trance. They were all cuddling against each other, Robin holding Chopper in her lap, Luffy and Usopp mimicking each other’s smiles, and Nami resting her head on Sanji’s shoulder. They all seemed so close to each other. Like a little family. Connected. You turned to Zoro to see if he was doing the same as the others, but all you found was his eyes softly gazing into yours, and his hand slowly inching towards yours. The minute he snapped out of it, he sharply turned his head and hand away and cleared his throat. You couldn't help but laugh at his schoolboy behavior. With your ego controlling your actions, you took his hand and slowly intertwined his fingers with yours. You could see a smile float onto his face out of the corner of your eye. You did the same.
The rest of the day was spent out on the deck. The feeling of the sun on your skin for the first time in weeks was euphoric. All you wanted to do was soak it all in. The Straw Hats must have been in a good mood today, because, with some extra convincing, you got them to finally take off your shackles. You spent most of the day sunbathing out on the deck with Nami. She had let you borrow one of your bikinis. You two were slightly different sizes though, so the suit was a little tight on you. You didn’t mind very much. You were just happy to be out of the same clothes you had worn for 3 weeks. Sanji didn’t mind either, ogling both you and Nami and basically worshipping the two of you. “It’s ok, he’ll get over it in a few hours,” Nami consoled. You circled the deck a few times to see if Zoro was anywhere in sight, but you couldn’t seem to find him. He probably went inside to nap away from the heat. Part of you wanted him to get the rest he deserved. The other really wanted him to see you in your outfit. 
The day really took a turn when Usopp brought out the liquor from the kitchen. “I was saving that asshole!” Sanji yelled. “Oh come on, this is a special occasion!” Usopp pleaded. With some more convincing, Sanji finally gave in. You and the crew got increasingly drunk throughout the evening, Zoro eventually coming out from wherever he was napping to join the party. You all had even decided to jump into the ocean and swim around for a little bit. All except for Chopper, very sober and very nervous for any incoming sea monsters. He had managed to get you all back onto the ship with some very convincing pleading.
You and Zoro caught each other catching glimpses of one another throughout the rest of the day. Zoro admiring your figure in the swimsuit, and you ogling at the way his damp shirt hugged at his muscles. One by one, as day grew into night, crew members began to pass out on the deck, deciding to sleep outside for the night. You and the other members who wanted to go back into the cabin, Zoro and Robin, made your way back down into the ship. “Make sure you tie her back up. No hard feelings but we can’t be too careful.” Even slightly tipsy, she was still her stern old self. “Yeah whatever whatever, goodnight to you too,” Zoro drunkenly pushed off. You giggled and blushed as he took your hand and led you down the stairs into the cabin. Robin sighed to herself as she watched the two of you scamper off.
You felt your heartbeat get increasingly faster as he led you to your room. For some reason, the air in the hallway got thicker as you got closer. You blamed it on your tipsiness. But your heart slowly sank as you got to the door, realizing you had to say goodbye to Zoro for the day. He opened the door and stumbled into your room, leading you in behind him. He closed the door behind him, hesitating for a moment before going to wrap the rope back around your wrists. 
He seems distressed for some reason, breathing heavily and avoiding eye contact. You look down at your hands, as he so gently maneuvers the rope around them. The butterflies begin to well up in your stomach again, the alcohol fueling their ferocity. His hands. So calloused yet so gentle. You can smell the remnants of sake exuding from Zoro’s heavy breaths. You looked back up at him. Were you two always standing this close together? You the butterflies keep rising and rising. You don’t know what to do with yourself. You’re not sure if you should run, kiss him, punch him, but you have to do something before you implode. Until. He stops.
The rope undoes itself in his hands as he freezes. His hands are shaking, his breath is heavy, and his eyes avoid yours like the plague. You were just getting antsy but Zoro seemed in distress. “Hey?” you ask, lowering your hands and dropping the rope to the floor. “Zoro?” You take your hand under his chin and lift his eyes to yours. You might throw up at any second. His eyes are so softly intense. 
He brushed his thumb against your cheek, sending chills down your spine. You both want the same thing. Both of you are just too scared to take the chance. “It’s ok. You’re okay,” you reassure him, placing your hand over his heart. His heart, which happens to be underneath his bare chest, him having taken off his wet shirt earlier. His breathing slows, and his eyes move down ever so smoothly from your eyes to your plump lips. You catch yourself doing the same to him, and you inching closer to him. “You’re fine.” Closer. “We’re gonna be…fine.” Your lips barely brush each other. The gentleness of the kiss is calming though, as you notice Zoro’s breath slowing. 
You brush again. And again. And again. Lips touching a little more with each meet. Until they fully interlock. The two of you melt into each other as Zoro wanders your back into a wall for support. Your kisses are structured, made to get the most out of each meeting. You’re both ravenous for each other, but you know if you go at each other like mad dogs, you won’t get what you want. So you both take your time getting to know the feeling of the other person’s mouth. You slip a moan out as Zoro’s tongue seeps between your lips. His kisses get slightly more sloppy as he runs his hands down your body. He feels the underneath of your breasts, the curves of your waist and hips, and finds a nice resting place under your ass. Your hands roam his cheeks and jaw, making their way to tug slightly on his moss-colored hair. 
“Needed this,” Zoro whispers in between kisses. “Needed you so badly. But I didn’t know how.” He separates his lips from yours and plants kisses and hickeys along your jaw and neck. “I was always just too nervous for some reason. You make me so nervous.” His hands find their way into your bikini bottom and fondle your asscheeks, getting a low moan out of you. The alcohol must’ve given him a confidence boost. “Good to see you found your footing now,” you whisper in his ear. He chuckles, the butterflies speeding up in your stomach. 
The two of you stay here for a little bit. Hell, you could stay like this for hours. Just soaking each other in. Feeling his warmth brought a fire into your soul. You could tell Zoro was getting a little antsy though, one of his hands moving from your back to your front, beginning to slowly circle your clit. The other hand went to your bikini, untying the back and letting it fall to the floor as his mouth moved to your breast. Waves of pleasure crashed through your body as you let him do his work. “God, you sure this is your first time?” you moaned out. He removed his mouth from your nipple to talk. “Never said it was, sweetheart. You just assumed it.” “Well from the loner vibe you got going on mixed with being on this ship 24/7, you can’t blame me for thinking that.” “Well the loner vibe worked on you, so who’s to say it hasn’t worked on others?” he smirked. You laughed to yourself as he got down on his knees.
Zoro slipped off your bikini bottom, completing the set on the floor. He kissed your v-line with the same softness he treated your lips to. He sat back on his knees for a moment to catch his breath, looking up at you, as if to ask for permission. You held your hand out to his cheek and rubbed it with your thumb. His eyes closed as he placed his hand over yours, as if you would ever take it away from him. God now this was a sight you could get used to. He was so infatuated with you it made your heart ache. He was right here at your disposal, yet you wanted more of him. So you bent down and gave him a sloppy forehead kiss. Once you were back up, he decided to go in. 
Like most things he does, he started slow and controlled. He kissed and sucked on your inner thighs. Once his hand finally left your clit, you knew he was ready. He kissed your cunt, using his tongue to lick up your wetness. You could pass out right now if you had less self-control. Whimpers and moans left your lips, your hips naturally starting to grind against his nose, relieving the ache in your clit. You let him know what felt good by the tugs and yanks you put in his hair. He was a natural. Your guess about his tongue earlier was right too. “You taste so good, just as I imagined,” Zoro breathed onto your lips. You could tell he was starting to lose his composure with the way he continued to bury his face into your pussy. Your cunt naturally tightened around his tongue as he tasted you. Your hips began to buck into his face as your grinding pace increased, the butterflies turning into a white heat you felt getting stronger and stronger. Your bud was becoming more swollen by the second. Your grip on his hair tightened to make up for your failing knees. 
You wouldn’t be able to take much more. Zoro wouldn’t either, his hand making its way into his pants to relieve his own bulge. His pace got faster to match your grinds. The smack of your lips against his tongue, mixed with both of your moans, was pornographically loud. Suddenly, the situation of Robin or another crew member hearing became an apparent one to you. That worry quickly left your mind once one of Zoro’s hands made its way to fondle your nipple. If he asked you to follow him anywhere right now, you might just do it if it meant this every other night. You felt he knew your body better than you did. “So pretty. So good for me. You make this so easy,” Zoro groaned between licks. “Zoro god fuck me please!” Your final whimper sent you over the edge as you wailed and came all over his perfect face. He licked up your juices as he finished his own job as well. Your knees finally gave out as you fell on top of him, into his arms.
He brought you down gently, straddling you on his lap as you wrapped your arms around him. He traced his cum soaked hand across your back and kissed your nape. You were more exhausted than expected, almost passing out in the crook of his neck. Even now, he was so gentle with you. “You did so good, darling,” he praised, kissing your earlobe. “Want…more…want you…inside me,” you managed to get out. He just laughed and pushed you up to look at you. “If you took me right now, I don’t think you’d wake up tomorrow morning. Look at you, you can barely keep your eyes open, sweetheart,” he teased. You pouted. “Oh, you feel that proud of yourself?” your drunkenness fueling your frustration. “No no no, sweetheart,” he chuckled. Once your frown didn’t change, he stopped laughing and pressed a kiss deep into your forehead. “I’m sorry. What I meant was, if I fucked you with everything I have left right now, which is the only way I would want to do it, this floor would leave us with sore backs for weeks.” You stayed frowning. “I want to fuck you right, the way you deserve. And I can’t do it for you right now.” You pouted more at him. He smiled up at you and leaned in closer to your ear. “If you trust me, I promise I’ll make it worth your while. You’ll be walking funny for weeks.” God, you almost came again just now. You didn’t notice how much your jaw dropped until Zoro laughed at you. You couldn’t help but laugh back in tune with his infectious laughter. 
He kissed you with a fever behind his lips, then scanned the room around the two of you. “What’s wrong?” you drowsily asked. The exhaustion from you coming, the sleepiness brought by the alcohol, and how late it was getting was starting to overpower you. Zoro didn’t respond. He just grabbed your swimsuit and helped you put it back on, tightened your legs around his hips, and hoisted you up as he stood. You decided to ask questions once you had a clearer idea of what was happening. He opened the door and walked with you down the hallway, passing the girl’s quarters and into the men’s room. He checked inside quickly before bringing you in and signaling you to bring your legs down. You confusedly followed him to his bed as he groaned, rubbed his back, and sat down on the edge of the bunk. “Wanna explain to me what you’re doing?” you asked, slightly more awake. “If you think I’m just gonna leave you to sleep alone, tied up, on that dirty floor after what we just did, then you must think I’m a really shitty guy,” Zoro quipped before getting under the covers and trying to pull you down. You put some resistance towards him though. 
“B-but Zoro, I’m not supposed to be in here.”
“I know.”
“If someone catches me in here we’re both fucked.”
“They won’t catch you.”
“How do you know that?”
“I’ll wake up before Robin starts her shift.”
“Are you sure, I mean I just don’t kn-.”
“Hey.”
You stop your nervous rabbling and look at him as he sits back up. “Do you want to go back and sleep on the cold, dirty, hard floor?” You really didn’t. “No.” “Then stay here with me.” “But what if-.” “Do you trust me?”
You sure hope you did after all of that. His kind eyes reassured you in the darkness surrounding the two of you. You took a deep breath and nodded. “Do you trust me?” he asked again. “I trust you, Zoro,” you confirmed. He smiled kindly at you. “You’re fine. We’re gonna be fine.” He steadied you by placing his hands on your hips, running his hands along your waist, and pressing his lips into your tummy. You loved the way he looked at you. Like you were his whole world. It was comforting.
He took your hand and helped you into bed. You bundled yourself under the covers and wrapped yourself around his frame. He kissed your temples one more time before slipping into sleep, his light snores hypnotizing you into a slumber of your own.
The last thing you remember before dozing off was the feeling of his hands on your waist.
Everything you wanted was right here. In front of you. Straight out of a dream. Your only fear was that it would be gone once you woke up.
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a/n: THIS TOOK FOREVER GOOD LORD. anyways thanks for being here for my comeback era lol. my upload schedule is NOT going to be consistent this is just a little splurge i wanted to write lol. thank you for reading i really appreciate it (i also really appreciate engagement lol please like repost comment etc im greedy). i love one piece and i love zoro. once i meet law expect all hell to break loose im gonna write so much fanfiction about him its concerning hes so fine im so excited. anyways lol thanks love you bye.
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strlingsav · 1 year
Note
Idek if you will see this but i been reading your work and its amazing!! You’re genuenly so talented in writing. but could you maybe do a fic on Ghost and y/n jus having a steamy makeout sesh, don’t matter the context or backstory but just to include a lot of kissing. 🫣🫣
Thank you! 🤍 I can definitely do this!! Steamy make-outs are underrated.
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Alone
– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader
— You're left alone with Johnny's friend Simon.
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Johnny had offered to help you move over the weekend, offering Simon's help too, in exchange for a case of beer. You were happy to oblige, eager for the extra help and a chance to see Simon again.
Johnny talked a lot about him. It was a given; they worked so closely together, and near-death experiences could really bring people together. You'd grown to know Simon through Johnny, enough to find yourself attracted to the brooding man.
Aside from your developing crush, you were glad Johnny had someone watching his back. Someone that seemed reliable and trustworthy. It was part of the reason why you'd so quickly accepted Simon's help. The way Johnny spoke of him only had you even more intrigued. Every story he told let you piece Simon together, bit by bit. You were starting to take interest in the puzzle of a man.
He was quiet, not much of a talker and his humour was dry. Most people would be off-put by his demeanour, but you liked it. Being so close with Johnny meant that sometimes, a break from the incessant talking was nice. Enjoyable even.
"Just leave it there, I can take it to my room," You said, waving your hand to dismiss Johnny carrying a large box full of sheets and blankets.
"You sure?" He asked, his brow quirked as he lowered it.
"Yeah, yeah," You replied. "It's not heavy. Won't need it tonight anyways."
Johnny nodded, leaving the box on the floor before joining you at the kitchen island.
You handed him a beer, taking a sip of the one in your hand.
"Thanks again," You said.
"Not a problem. Simon's done most of the work anyways."
"I expected as much," You hid your grin.
"Y'can find someone else to move your shite then," He scowled, moving around to sit on the chair. "You like it here?"
"It's not bad. Roomy. Only a few minutes from work."
You sat on the sofa, curling your feet up under you.
"Aye," He nodded. "Better than the last."
Simon stepped out of the spare room, rolling his shoulders before settling beside you.
"'S'all moved in there," He said, lifting his arm to the back of the couch.
"Thanks," You smiled softly. "Let me grab you a beer."
You came back with a beer in hand, passing it to him before sitting back down.
"Cheers," He nodded.
You looked around the room, still cluttered with boxes and random items you'd have to find a home for. Your head fell back, groaning softly.
"I still have a ton of shit to do."
"Wish I could stay an' help," Johnny said, setting down his empty beer. "I've got myself a dinner with my maw. I can stop by after."
"It's alright. I'll stay up and get it done before Monday."
"Maybe Simon could help ya?" Johnny's eyes shifted to Simon, who swallowed a sip of beer.
You avoided Johnny's gaze, knowing he'd be staring at you as your cheeks flushed, suspecting something of your bashful reaction. He'd sensed the attraction between the two of you; you were both too stubborn and proud to admit it.
Simon breathed in, "No plans tonight. If you need the help-"
"You really don't have to," You insisted, your eyes locking with his.
"Don't mind."
Johnny watched the interaction with a small smirk, enjoying the discomfort he created. You sighed, turning to Johnny with wide eyes and an expression that read, 'I'm going to murder you'.
"That's really nice of you," You smiled. "I'll owe you one."
Johnny left not long after, leaving yourself and Simon to unpacking the many boxes left in your living room.
It was silent between the two of you, hardly satiated by the quiet sound of the music in the background. You glanced over every so often, amused by the sight of him hunched over on your floor, rummaging through a box of plates and cutlery.
"Thanks again." Your voice was louder than anticipated, shattering the silence. "For staying to help."
He looked up at you, expressionless, though his eyes softened.
"Not much to do when I'm home," He said. "Beer and company ain't bad."
You nodded- a small smile crawled over you face as you tried not to read too much into his simple statement. You turned back to the box, taking a soft breath in.
"Johnny talks about you a lot," You said.
"He's a good mate."
"Seems to think the same of you."
"You known each other long?"
"Since college."
Silence ascended again, busying yourself with tidying and unpacking.
You blew out a harsh breath, looking over the array of boxes, half-opened around the cluttered living room.
"Don't think this'll be done by Monday," You huffed. "Let's just call it."
Simon smiled, not enough that you'd noticed, but he was amused.
He'd accepted Johnny's offer in hopes of spending more time with you. He despised civilian life. He didn't know how to function in a world without gunfire or imminent death. Despite that, he was okay doing mind-numbing tasks if he could sit and talk to you.
Part of him knew he owed Johnny a thanks for giving the two of you time together, though the other wanted to kill him for putting him on the spot.
You stood up, Simon following, and your foot caught on the nearest box. Simon's hand reached out to steady you, grabbing hold of your bicep before you fell forward.
"Y'alright?"
You nodded. Though inside, you could swear there was a tidal wave of nerves igniting with heat at the touch of his hand.
You stepped around the box, grabbing another couple beers from the fridge.
You rested your back against the island, sipping slowly, your eyes following Simon as he stood across from you. Your fingers nervously tapped the bottle, rhythmic, soothing- it didn't seem to work.
"You- um," You spoke up again. "You like this music?"
He could tell you were grasping at straws, looking for anything to fill the awkward silence. He wasn't one for idle chatter, and he didn't mind the silence, but he could tell his presence had you on edge. He knew you were trying to cover up the nervous habits you had; chewing your lip, bouncing your knee.
"Not bad," He nodded.
"Do you like being in the army?"
He furrowed his brows at the sudden subject change, an amused smile forming across his lips.
"That what you really want to ask me? 'Bout my work?"
"Just making conversation," You shrugged.
"Yeah, it's alright," He tilted his head. "You always so nervous makin' conversation?" He'd struck a nerve; your eyes flashed to his, wide and unblinking.
"Not really," You smiled. "Not really sure how to talk to you," You breathed out.
"I make you nervous?" He set the beer down beside him, moving slowly, predator-like as he inched toward you.
"You make everyone nervous," You teased.
It was a pathetic reach for comfort, for something to ease the building tension in your stomach as he stood before you.
"Don't think that's the case here," His lips were parted, stillness in the air. "You have somethin' else you wanna ask me, sweetheart?" He had his hands planted on the counter, trapping you within the confines of his body.
Sweetheart. The word rolled off his tongue, soft, smooth- it nearly made you melt. Your jugular pounded in your throat- he was flirting with you.
"Do you want another beer?"
He chuckled, low and dry. His head shook, before his eyes landed on yours.
"Would y'let me kiss you?"
You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, your heart threatening to jump out of your throat, palms tacky with sweat.
"Yes," You said, barely above a whisper, void of any tone, focused solely on his lips as he brought himself even closer.
His lips touched yours softly, hardly enough to feel, though it created sparks in your abdomen. He was gentle, creating a fleeting touch that made you chase after his lips when he pulled back.
Your eyes opened to find his, searching your face, appreciating the flush on your skin, the lust-filled glaze over your eyes.
He didn't hesitate this time, his lips making firm contact with yours, still apprehensive but savouring how good you felt against him. He let out a satisfied but restrained sigh, basking in the utter pleasure, while his hand mindlessly moved to your waist, delicately holding on, pulling you just a bit closer.
You had to crane your neck, nearly stand on your toes to reach him, your wobbly disposition worsening when forced to balance yourself.
He noticed, pulling away and lifting you swiftly onto the countertop. You parted your thighs, making room for his torso, accepting him closer than before.
Your lips reconnected, feverish and greedy as you devoured the bitterness and surprising softness on his lips. For an army man, he had miraculously smooth lips, addictive and warm.
His hand held onto your waist, the other resting on the top of your thigh, holding you close, aching for the feel of your body under his grip. They engulfed you, swallowed you whole, erased any other thoughts aside from the heat swarming inside you.
Your own hands had travelled around his shoulders, feeling the taught muscles surrounding his neck, your palms gliding up to lay against the nape of his neck. He was solid- strong and authoritative-it made your stomach churn with excitement.
Your tongue grazed his bottom lip, a teasing stroke that made his grip tighten. Your back arched into him, letting your tongue caress his lip until he reciprocated, gliding his against yours.
Like lighting a match, the sparks in your body lit up, creating a burn in your stomach.
His hand slid down past your hip, grabbing a handful of your ass as he pulled you off the counter to his hips. You inadvertently wrapped your legs around him, still moving your lips against his as he walked past the pile of boxes to lie you down on the couch.
He towered over you, removing the restrictive jacket he had on, his biceps flexing as he yanked them from the sleeves. Your gaze moved to see the tattoos covering his arms, the way his T-shirt fit so perfectly over his well-worked muscles.
He, in turn, had his eyes glued to you. Your hair splayed out on the pillow, your swollen lips now red with irritation, your eyes in the dim light of the room, how the baggy T-shirt you wore fell taught against your breasts when you breathed in. He could see the swell of your breasts, your perked nipples through the white fabric, and when you reached to grasp his shoulders, he felt heat travel to his groin.
His hands trailed from your hips, diving beneath your shirt to feel your smooth skin, the dip between your ribs. A bit further up, he ran teasing fingers over your breasts, eliciting a quiet gasp from your parted lips.
"Simon," You whispered, a fleeting announcement of pleasure that echoed in his head.
"Bloody hell," He said, low and guttural. "You been drivin' me mad, love."
You grinned, "That so?" You quipped, eager to learn more.
"Since I met you."
You hummed with satisfaction, sitting up to press your lips against his, to wrap your hand around his neck and pull him into you. He chuckled into your lips, his hand settling above you on the couch.
Your eyes drifted shut, toes curling with the feeling of his lips leaving soft kisses across your neck, before he reached your lips again.
He pushed his torso further between your thighs, unintentionally grinding his pelvis against yours. You moaned softly into his mouth, nipping at the plump flesh of his lip. He breathed out, his hips driving into yours, hitting just the right angle to grind against your clit. Your whimpers against his mouth had his cock hardening against you.
"I don't have any condoms," You said shyly, a blush creeping up your neck.
"Eager, are you?" He leaned in, his nose gently nudging your head aside so he could kiss the smooth skin of your neck. "'S'alright- rather take you out 'fore any o'that."
His body was flush with yours, lips connecting with unbroken ferventness. Your hands pulled against his shirt, forcing him into your body, holding him hostage.
"Y'make it real difficult to wait, sweetheart."
Your eyes brows crested, yearning for him, in his entirety.
"Sorry," You sighed. "Better take me to dinner soon."
A knock at your apartment door made your heads turn. It must've been Johnny, back from dinner.
"Open up, kid."
1K notes · View notes
ressjeon · 1 year
Text
endearing | jjk
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pairing: jungkook x reader
summary: you're just worried when your loud housemate suddenly goes quiet after serenading you for hours
rating: pg13 | word count: 1.3k
genre/au: housemates!au, romance?, fluff (lmao who's this), they're just fRiEnDs 🤭
warnings/content: just alcohol consumption, they're sweet ig 🥰
a/n: yk i’m supposed to be on break (literally on midterm season) but here we are. also i haven’t written a purely SFW drabble for a very long time so please bear with me i just love him sm. huge thank you to my phone's voice feature lol, i'd never finished this in a few hours with how slow i usually am.
companion song: more than friends by becky g 💖
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You’re scrolling through your phone when you notice that the whole house has suddenly turned quiet.
You couldn’t be that you’re fixated on your phone that you didn’t notice your housemate has ended his karaoke session because you swear the living room was still loud just a few minutes ago. Jungkook, one of your housemates, has been singing his heart out since past 1 AM today. Not that you mind it really, because you’re a night owl, just like him. You love it when he does his live streams because he usually does karaoke sessions in each of them no matter what he was doing at first.
Jungkook’s one of the popular students on your campus and has a huge following on his IG account, which he uses mainly for everything, no matter how random they are. He deletes his pictures often though when he feels like changing his feed. You’re hoping that he just archived them because he’s quite talented at photography. However, he does frequent lives on IG in return since people tune in when he goes live anyway, filled with comments from either his group of friends or his admirers.
It’s been a while since you heard Jungkook singing. He has a very beautiful voice that even though he doesn’t remember the lyrics for most of the songs that he sang, he still sounded so good to anyone who’s listening. Your other housemates are still not back from their reading week vacation, giving Jungkook the only time when he could be as loud as he can in the house without disturbing anybody. He’s aware that you stay up like him and listen to him when he’s singing, relieved that out of your housemates, it’s you who remained with him. Both of you are the only ones who didn’t go anywhere because of your packed schedules.
Tonight, as diverse as his playlist is, you still feel like he’s serenading you with most of his song choices. Those songs are on your playlist too, which he knew since you’ve shared each other’s links before. So now you’re going to let yourself be deluded, humming along to the songs while you’re getting your tasks done. When the music stopped, you thought he was just taking breaks, so you didn’t think much of it. Jungkook usually creates small noises after he’s done, cleaning up the living room and kitchen before going back to his room.
But it’s suddenly quiet. Did he fall asleep already? Should you check, but then why would you? Jungkook sleeps anywhere at any time unlike you, but you’ve always been paranoid. The lazy part of you wants to close your eyes and fall asleep already, but the other part wants to go down and check. It’s just normal right just in case? Besides, it’s also part of your responsibility as a housemate.
It’s the least you could do for Jungkook because he took care of you many times when you come home drunk from house parties at 5 AM. He even took as much as helping you by being there while you let everything out, offering you a glass of water and making sure you remove your makeup before tucking you into your bed after. He cooks you noodle soup in the morning too in case you get hangovers, which you thankfully don't but your heart somersaults every time with how thoughtful he is.
So despite how comfy your bed is right now, you forced yourself to get up and pushed away your comforter before going down to the living room to check.
And your guts were right because you see Jungkook sleeping soundly on his stomach by the couch with a lighted-scented candle on the table in front of him. The light from the candle allows you to see his handsome face clearly, with flushed cheeks and slightly puckered lips as he sleeps in his arms. He looks adorable, wearing a black crewneck in sweater paws, obscuring his colourful sleeve from your eyes. His cute snores crack a small smile on your face as you approach his sleeping figure, carefully taking the remote from his hands. Sure, he’s a deep sleeper, but you didn’t want to wake him up because it’s already 4 AM and you’re a bit sleepy too.
You then turn off the TV and unplugged the mood lamp that he designed for one of his classes. It’s so pretty, and he brings it out in the living room once in a while, especially when he’s doing his live streams. You also just noticed the half-filled beer mug on the table, taking it with you to the kitchen where you’ve put it back on the ref before deciding to look for spare blankets for him. You couldn’t find any though, so you just opted for his room, which is surprisingly wide open.
Jungkook stays in the room on the first floor, so he frequents the living room when he’s not gaming or doing schoolwork. Entering his room, you grabbed his blanket at once, fighting the urge to nuzzle it, given how good Jungkook usually smells when you hug him. You went back to the living room and put the blanket over him, pushing away a strand of his hair from his closed eyes before tucking it behind his ears. His hair had gotten longer and curly, so fluffy too that you’d been expressing how you love this look on him. Jungkook smiles when you do, letting you ruffle his hair more.
He stirs a bit, causing you to go rigid and worried that you woke him up. You don’t move until you were sure that he’s fully sleeping. And though he might not hear it, you still wish him a quiet good night before eyeing the candle. You love the smell of it but for safety reasons, you blow out and retreat upstairs to your room.
.
The footsteps padding in the hallway woke you up from your deep slumber, being the sensitive sleeper you are. You’re wondering how Jungkook’s awake at this hour and why he’s up here, reluctantly rising from your bed before opening the door. There you watch him scurrying back to the stairs wrapped in his blankets looking like a deer caught in the headlights when he hears you.
“Jungkook? why are you awake? do you need something? it’s still early” you asked him sleepily while rubbing your eyes.
“um, i woke up and i-uh” he couldn’t look you in the eye, the nervousness evident in his voice. “you can’t sleep?” you yawn, yearning to go back to your comfy bed but you just wanna talk to him more. 
Jungkook shakes his head. “i just wanna say thank you for earlier and uh-sorry for waking you up” he grins apologetically, rubbing the back of his neck.
“oh Kook, that’s nothing compared to what you’ve done more for me” you smile at him, truly grateful for his existence in your life. Hold, you’re sleep deprived to be having these thoughts right now but Jungkook just looks so endearing in your eyes despite how sleepy you still are. 
Damn, you really should sleep more.
He’s oddly looking at you fondly so you mimic him, both of you waiting who will back down first. Jungkook looks like he wants to say something more, tongue poking around his lip ring with that doe eyes of his. You smile at him, urging him to continue. He’s back to being shy around you these days for some reason but you don’t wanna pry, just want him to be comfortable as much as possible. 
“i’m still sleepy so i’m going back to my room” you can see him retracting so you approach him, a knowing smile already plastered on your face. “do you wanna cuddle? i think we’ll fit in my bed” his nervous eyes were replaced with excitement, following you to your room.
You didn’t even get to lie down on your bed properly when he tackles you, spurring a hearty giggle out of you with him matching you. “what?” he hugs you right away, mumbling something against your skin as he snuggles his head on the crook of your neck. Your hands automatically card through his luscious hair until you hear his breathing slow down, and his cute snores occurring once again. 
Guess you’ll never know what all these are for until he wakes.
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e/n: i'm testing many things from this so hope it's wholesome enough lmao (i tried). have a lovely week everyone!
853 notes · View notes
clemkruckinnie · 9 months
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pitseleh-d.lambert
chris calls you at exactly 130 in the morning.
you’d been awake, of course; your homework wasn’t gonna do itself, and you always found that you worked better at night anyway.
being best friends since middle school had always had it’s advantages. you two knew each other inside and out, and she’d never call you this late unless-
“something’s wrong.” you answer the phone, hearing booming music and a familiar voice trying to yell over it in the back.
“i hate that you already-“
“is that y/n???”
“give it-“
“i’m fine!”
it’s a very exasperated dalton on the other end, having seemingly wrestled chris’ phone away from her.
“hi, dalton.” you greet him. “can you give chris the phone?”
“no, i’m-chris, please!”
“he’s drunk and i can’t babysit anymore. can you please watch him and make sure he doesn’t asphyxiate?”
she cuts you off before you can object. “listen, you’re already gonna be awake most of the night. i know you. it’s something to do, at least—“
“okay.” you relent, shutting your laptop. “just get him here in one piece and i’ll take care of him.”
“i love you.” chris sighs, “like truly, genuinely, i will propose to you right now. cmon, dolphin-yes, we’re going to y/n’s—“
the call cuts off, and you flop against your bed, staring at your ceiling.
you’d opted to live off campus, working in the bookstore to pay for your apartment. it was small, and your neighbors were loud, and the walls were thin, but it was home.
chris would stay with you often before she started school, having been a year younger than you, wanting to get acclimated to the college town before she moved there. since she’d become friends with her roommate, he’d often join you two, rounding out your duo into a trio.
dalton was quiet, but kind, a talented artist with some unresolved trauma you’d never judge him for if he chose to divulge. you liked him, but it always felt like there was a wall up between you two, one he wanted to break through but couldn’t.
you’re jolted from your thoughts by a sharp knock at the door. standing up from the couch, you open the door, chris dragging dalton in by his hand.
“thank you so much.” she sighs, getting the door shut behind him as he flops down onto your couch.
“i feel fine.” dalton complains, “you don’t have to babysit me.”
“oh yes she does!” chris cuts him off. “you almost hurled twice on the way here, and i have work in the morning. i can’t keep you alive and sleep at the same time.”
“dal, it’s okay. i’ll get you a bowl, you can crash on the couch, we’ll put a movie on or something. it’ll be fun.” you assure him.
“go sleep.” you direct your attention to chris, “we’ll be okay.”
she leaves you with a quick hug and another thank you, promising to bring you your favorite takeout when she comes home from her shift tomorrow, and you’re left alone with a slowly sobering up dalton on your couch.
“you okay?” you ask him earnestly, wrapping your cardigan around yourself. “i can get you a blanket, or-“
“you’re okay. i’m just admiring the place.”
“you’ve been here before.”
“yeah, but i’ve never really looked at it.” dalton explains. “it’s..warm. i like it.”
you shrug. “i kind of just threw blankets and string lights up everywhere and kinda hoped for the best.”
he laughs, soft but bright, and your stomach flips in the best possible way.
“i only had like 2 shots, just so you know.” dalton explains. “chris is just-“
“worried.” you cut him off. “yeah, i know. she’s just like her mom. always concerned for everyone.”
dalton nods. “you two are close.”
“she’s like the one person who’s always been there for me.” you explain, joining him on the couch. “best friends since kindergarten and first grade.”
“i’m jealous.” dalton admits. “i never really made friends like that.”
you shrug. “i mean, we kinda adopted you.”
dalton shakes his head. “she’s my roommate. she just wants to be nice-“
“if she’s just being nice then why did she bring you over here?” you object. “she was worried about you, dalton, you don’t worry about people you don’t care about.”
dalton looks at you, taking in what you’d just told him.
“i don’t let people i don’t care about into my space, just so you know.” you add. “i’ve worked hard making this little shithole feel like home. you’re always welcome in it.”
dalton nods, not meeting your eyes.
“hey.” you grab his hand. “something’s up.”
he looks at you, big blue eyes staring through you, not at you.
“i don’t know how to do this.” dalton admits.
“do what?”
he pauses for a second, still looking at you. then, he brings your hand up to his cheek, holding your palm against his face.
“dalton-“
he leans in, kissing you in a way so gentle, so sweet that it would make your knees buckle had you been standing up.
when he pulls back, you open your eyes to his already staring at you, a world’s worth of emotion in them.
you smile, moving your other hand so you’re cradling his face, brushing his cheekbones with your thumbs.
you kiss him again, and feel the warmth he’d been talking about earlier spread through your chest.
312 notes · View notes
thelargefrye · 3 months
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🌷 SMALLS’ FIC RECOMMENDATION LIST.
i've seen a lot of fic rec lists circulating in the community recently and so i felt like i should also make one to support fellow writers who i think really deserve that extra love and attention.
so this is also an appreciation post because i have quite a few things to say. these are mainly writers that i enjoy reading and think need a lot more love and attention because let's be honest, they have amazing ideas and people are just sleeping on them.
so, i'll just jump right into it! make sure to send these writers love and reblog their works!!!
my best friend and person i share a braincell with : @sanjoongie
check out her master list.
like you want to talk about talent? topaz is the one who breathes talent and ideas that literally no one else is coming up with. like if i had to read only one person for the rest of my life, it would be topaz because her writing is just amazing. her moodboards that she makes for her works, perfect. everything topaz does when it comes to writing is amazing, and i'm so glad that she's my best friend and braincell.
and not only that, but topaz is just nice to be talk to! like she makes you want to repeatedly talk to her and she is so good at helping flesh out my own ideas. i wouldn't have written half the things i did last year if it wasn't for her.
anyways, i'm so grateful and proud to call topaz my braincell because she's so amazing, talented, and nice. it breaks my heart that more people don't talk about HER. like you want to read something different and so well written then you need to read literally ANY work topaz has written.
topaz, my lovely braincell, thank you for putting up with me and my shit 24/7. if it wasn't for you i probably wouldn't have gotten out of my writer's block. and just now that i love you and thank you for being an amazing friend and writer.
and if you've gotten this far, i'll just straight up tell you that this is topaz appreciation post. so now i'll link some of my favorite works by her and tell you why i love them:
twilight academy ( all parts ) ( rated : mature )
wizard professor!seonghwa x wizard professor!f!reader ft. ateez
this currently has four parts and is still ongoing and is literally SO good. like who else is writing about a professor au WHERE THEY ARE ALL WIZARDS. and not to mention the worldbuilding and history that is all mentioned and talked about. its so so so good and the smut in it is absolutely to die for. and the chemistry between seonghwa and mc is so good, i love when they go back and forth.
breed ( part one ) ( rated : mature )
ateez x f!reader ( most of the members are aliens with san and another member being human )
now THIS is an alien au done right and different and basically sum it up with one sentence its "alien!teez doing sexual experiments" (from @/morethingsfandom). like its just so good and the SMUT! THE SMUT IS WHY WE ARE HERE PEOPLE!! THIS IS WHAT SCI-FI SMUT IS ABOUT!!! like this is honestly pure pwp and a nice switch up if maybe twilight academy isn't your thing.
see? topaz does everything!
dragon oracle ( here ) ( rated : mature )
dragon!ateez x dragon!f!reader ( based off of my own dragon au )
THIS!! in my opinion is one of topaz's best works (i may be biased lol) and def my favorite from all time. topaz took my au and did her own spin on it and made it her own. she cared about the source material, asked questions, let me ramble, and then boom! a masterpiece was made. if you like my dragon au, then i highly, HIGHLY recommend you read this. and if you've already read... then read it again.
i wish it was me ( here ) ( rated : 18+ )
water bender!san x avatar!hongjoong x water bender!f!reader x water tribe warrior!yunho ( implied ot8 )
again another fic that is based off of mine but literally made it her own because topaz is just that talented. a "what-if" au for my alta series where mc is a water bender and with san and yunho. absolutely amazing and does so well with writing all the characters and their dynamics. a def read if you love atla!
sweet sorrow of evil ( master list ) ( rated : mature )
ateez x evil queen!f!reader ( members have different roles within the story )
this is a collab story between topaz and me and i couldn't make this post and NOT include this series that we are working on together. this really just shows what two authors can make when they come together. we co-wrote the prologue and are currently writing the first chapter. this world is our baby and i love and it has the both of us in a chokehold, i'm so proud of the world me and here built and i want everyone to see it.
and honestly, that's just the tip of the iceberg cause topaz has SO MANY more but these are just the ones that i always think about. like, i really suggest you all check out topaz's works. i have more of her fics on my fic rec blog (@comicsan) so if you want to see more of her and other fics that i have enjoyed then i would check that blog out.
please go show my bestie support, it would mean the world to me!
thank you 🩷
134 notes · View notes
bones4thecats · 5 months
Note
i stated something and i stand by it: poseidon, indra, odin, loki ,apollo,(maybe) shiva see a dangerous threat of life and standing up to them from their (crush-soon to be s/o) as flirting and lover material. Can i ask something with this? (I need your talent in writing fr 😭)
A/N: Thank you so much for the compliment, but people, please look at the request form rules before sending in an ask! I don’t like having to make multiple pieces for one request, so please just look before requesting! Now, it’s separated by pantheons due to the character overload, so enjoy~~ ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・
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🔱 You and Poseidon were friends ever since you were young, you both were into books, and that started your whole friendship
🔱 When he realized he had a crush on you, Poseidon did not enjoy seeing people flirt with you, not like he enjoyed it anyways
🔱 So when he came to the Gods’ Council and saw Zeus blatantly flirting with you so vulgarly, and it pissed him off to no end
🔱 He knew Zeus wasn’t a loyal husband to Hera, but for crying out loud!
🔱 Poseidon glared and smashed the head of his trident into the ground and crushed most of the floor, looking down
“ Am I interrupting something? ”
🔱 Zeus just laughed, excused himself and winked at you as he walked away
“ Thank you, Poseidon. I don’t know what I would’ve done if he kept trying to advance. “
🔱 He nodded and patted your head, a sense of love filling his heart and brain
🔱 Poseidon watched as you hugged him and walked away, oh if you only knew how much he loved you…
●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・
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☀️ Apollo was not a jealous person, but he could sense danger pretty well
☀️ So when he saw Loki floating upside down in front of you and making you blush, he felt a pang in his chest, a pang of jealousy?
☀️ He just put on his signature smile and walked up to you both and began to speak to you about something  he heard from Hermes earlier
☀️ Loki just sighed and whispered something in your ear before leaving, making Apollo glare at him from behind, he may be good appearing, but his personality was the polar opposite
☀️ Apollo looked at you and smiled before you laid a hand on his shoulder and said;
“ I know, Apollo. Loki isn’t a good person, but he’s one of my oldest friends. Please just, try being nice to him, okay? “
☀️ He let out a mental sigh, thank the Greek Pantheon you didn’t know of his feelings for you
☀️ He doesn’t know how embarrassed he would be if you found out from that liar of all beings
259 notes · View notes
sashimiyas · 6 months
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cw: there’s a wedding. it’s aran’s. you’re a bridesmaid entertaining the idea of getting married. and to suna of all people
“I’m gonna throw up.”
The man beside you laughs, genial and kind.
“Yum.”
His response elicits a downturn of your lips and you tilt you body to fully face him. As if instinctively, his elbow hooks tighter where your hand is placed. It tightens even further when he sees proof of your misery across your expression. Though you falter, he does not, the tilted smirk of his so golden that even the perfect sunset scenery would most likely be jealous of it.
“Oh, you’re serious.”
You pull down on your dress. The next set of bridesmaid and groomsman begin walking forward. “Of course I’m serious.”
“That’s what the dress rehearsal was for.”
Dress rehearsal had consisted of you meeting one of your best friend’s husband’s best friends and creating a pact that he’ll fall first before you do. Aran actually has a large arsenal of good looking friends, blessed with handsome looks himself. But Suna, he’s… different.
Suna’s confidence eases you and your addled mind decides to let him know regardless of it being a thoughtless comment.
“Thank you.”
His smile forces your embarrassment to falter. You feel important under his eye, that rather the bride and groom be the people of the day, it’s you. It’s your needs, your comforts, before anyone else’s.
He may be your partner only for the day, but you take the offer anyways.
“But—”
“No buts,” he cuts you off. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
Anything, could actually happen. A bird could fly down as you walk down the aisle and grab any one of the sparkling berets that bedazzle your hair. Your heels could get stuck in a crack. You could trip and—
“The officiant mistakes us for the bride and groom and we’re the ones that accidentally get married?”
Your voice cracks in your throat out of shock. Suna’s words shouldn’t affect you so, but for some stupid, ridiculous, absolutely insane reason, the idea is appealing. There’s no sense to the notion. Suna is a stranger!
But—
It’s your turn to begin walking. There’s no room to think. No buts.
There’s cameras pointed at you that you’re diligently aware of. Suna’s dismissive. He does not hesitate under their focus, though why would he? Talented and good looking as he.
You, on the other hand, duck your head to avoid everyone’s eye. Suddenly your dress feels heavy and your brain is now acutely aware of how much these shoes actually make your feet hurt.
As if sensing your discomfort, Suna discretely tucks you closer to his side, pulling you in with his elbow.
He leans his head down a bit. You can feel the singular stray strand of hair tickle across your forehead, softer than the bouquet you hold in your hands.
“Told you you wouldn’t fall. You’re doing amazing.” His whisper is lush.
Your heart beats frantically though maybe nervousness no longer has anything to do with it.
If last night was dress rehearsal, why does this day still feel like practice?
“There’s still a long way to go,” you say as you count the number of rows you still have to pass to the altar.
Suna takes two more steps before he responds with a hum, “Atsumu fell on live television once. If you fall, I’ll play the footage during my speech and everyone’ll forget about it.”
Suddenly, you’re laughing. The anecdote is ridiculous, but to hear the ends he’d go through simply to make you happy, your body cannot contain its joy. When you look up at him, he’s already smiling down at you.
“Atsumu fell on TV? How did that happen?”
“It’s a long story,” Suna dismisses as the two of you finally reach the altar. His elbow loosens so that you may remove your hand but as you do, his arm stretches out to catch a final glimpse of your touch before you go your separate ways.
“I’ll tell you later when we have all the time in the world.”
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vennilavee · 2 months
Text
red card
pairing: barou shoei x reader
summary: italy is one of the most romantic places in the world. unfortunately, it hasn't quite felt like that in some time.
warnings: BLLK MANGA SPOILERS !!!
word count: 3k
a/n: happy valentine's day!! just a fun miscommunication fic to be my first bllk fic...im running away
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“Working with him is such a pain, like, who takes interviews only at 4:35 AM? Who does he think he is, anyway?” 
“Well… he is the highest goalscorer in the entire league right now,” Mari counters, “I think that warrants that he can make some demands-”
“Oh, you’re just like the rest of them, aren’t you?” you roll your eyes playfully, shoving your colleague and friend’s shoulder.
“Whatever,” she shrugs, “Better start packing, considering your flight is in…seven hours.”
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In the last few years, you’ve been to Turin, Italy almost too many times to count. Sometimes for your job, and sometimes for…other reasons. Though in the last six months, it’s been mainly for work, no thanks to your stupidly talented striker boyfriend who just coincidentally happens to play for the Ubers.
You wouldn’t trade your sports journalist job for anything else, but with the combination of his always hectic schedule and your growing responsibilities as a senior journalist, it’s been next to impossible to spend any extra time together.
Other than squeezing in an interview at 4:30 AM just so you have an extra twenty minutes with him before training starts.
You scoff as you try to conceal the fatigue under your eyes with concealer. You’d love to go to Rome, Florence or Venice, or anywhere really, with your boyfriend. But he’s stubborn and rigid in his routines. You’re not ungrateful to be with your handsome, protective boyfriend with a dry humor that only very few appreciate. You just want a little more.
So you’ve been to all of those places, and then some, by yourself or with your coworkers or friends. Pretty much everyone except for him.
You’re trying to be understanding. He’s a globally known soccer player and gets recognized everywhere and anywhere he goes. All he wants is a day off, a day to relax and spend time and the offseason with you. Is it awful that you want a little more?
The relationship itself isn’t terribly new or terribly old. Maybe the distance makes it feel newer than it is.  But you’ve known each other since childhood, both of your families being friends and both of you running around the soccer circuit since a young age. His days in blue lock coincided with your days of playing soccer for your high school. That man with the red streaks in his hair has been in your life for nearly as long as you’ve been in it, and you don’t want to change anything about that.
You sigh and shrug your coat on, mentally preparing yourself to ignore Barou Shouei’s attempts at kissing you before you take the mic.
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“Hello, Barou-san,” you say stiffly, pushing your hand out for him to shake, “It’s nice to see you before the sun has risen.” The vein in his forehead throbs at your indifference and you grin, letting the facade melt. It’s been two months since you’ve seen him. You suppose you can wait a little longer to fight with him.
“You didn’t text me when you landed,” he says, “Or when you got here-”
“I landed an hour and a half ago and came here straight from the airport,” you roll your eyes, “Someone only takes interviews at this ungodly hour and I don’t want any special treatment.”
“If I want to give you special treatment, then I will,” Barou says, pulling you in by your forearm and wrapping you in a bone-crushing hug. You inhale deeply, immediately feeling sleepy as his warmth embraces you.
“Don’t make it sound like such a threat,” you mumble, pressing your cheek into his shoulder. Your fingers thread through his longer hair, resting at the nape of his neck. He must not yet have applied his cologne, because he smells fresh.
“Wanna take this interview in bed?” you joke, pulling away from him just an inch.
“How unprofessional of you,” he says dryly, “I’ll have to inform your superiors.”
You roll your eyes again, grinning when he pulls you in for a proper kiss. His touch makes you weak in the knees, makes you yearn for him even though he’s in your arms. For just a few short days. 
Your heart aches inadvertently.
“I got you tickets for today’s training and tomorrow’s game. I know you don’t need them,” Shouei says, sticking them in your coat pocket, “Let’s get this over with so we can go.”
He squeezes your arm, dark eyes lingering with unspoken and heavy words as he takes your hand in his towards the stadium.
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Interviewing with you is always easy, despite having interviewed with you one-on-one only a handful of times. It’s the start of a new season at Ubers (and his third year with the club), and he’s eager to win the league this time. Last season, they came so close.
Barou Shouei did not become the Ubers’ number thirteen  just to come only this far.
He’d gone back home to Japan after the loss last season for a week and stayed with you. Each time he leaves you, it gets harder and harder. But despite his loss, you were promoted to being a senior sports journalist. He was so proud of you, eager to see where your career would take you.
It seemed like the tables had turned and you were the one now traveling more than him. 
But you both make it work, right? With phone calls while you both are in opposing time zones, red eye flights just to see each other for a few hours… You try to go to Italy to see him whenever you can. Even with your increased responsibilities, his schedule is far more rigid than yours.
You’re so in demand now that it’s hard to keep up with two extremely busy schedules. Still- you’re here with your bright eyes and teasing smile, and he doesn’t want to lose a single second not looking at you.
It doesn’t feel like work when it’s with you. Even with the questions about game stats, Snuffy’s leadership, his future at the Ubers and the Ubers future in the league, it never feels like an actual interview. He used to hate giving these interviews until his coach told him he had to. What was the point of it? He’s not the captain, why does he have to deal with the press and the stupid questions?
Until his first interview was with you. 
Even now, when he knows that there is a mountain to climb over with you, it still feels the way it always does. Like a conversation. You’re focused on him, cracking jokes, and Shouei has always liked when your full attention is centered on him after all.
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The last time you were in Turin, you didn’t exactly leave on a bright, hopeful note with respect to your relationship. In fact, you left in tears and had changed your flight timing at the last minute so that Shouei purposely wouldn’t be able to see you off. You didn’t want to see him just to fight once again. 
It left a sour taste in your mouth and despite that things are “normal” now, you still feel the fragility of your relationship. It rests in your hands like a delicate bird.
In the last two months, neither of you had brought up the dreaded fight. It’s not the first time this topic has arisen, and you’re sure it won’t be the last. Your excuse for ignoring the issue was that you wanted to talk to him about it in person. His excuse was that if you had a problem then you’d bring it up on your own.
Your harsh words ring clearly in your head:
“Why is it so wrong to just want a little more? You live in Italy- I don’t think I’m asking for too much to go to Rome o-or Florence or Venice or literally anywhere for a few days during your offseason-”
“I can’t just go, everyone else trains during the off-season! How am I supposed to be the best striker if I’m going on vacation with you-”
“Oh, well, don’t sound so disgusted over the prospect of taking a few days off with me-”
“Come on, I didn’t mean that and you know it.”
“Do I? Do I know it? To me, it looks like you don’t want to spend any time with me outside of when it’s convenient for you. We get what? Maybe a few weekends a season? Are you good with a few weekends a season? And when you’re not playing, you don’t want to go anywhere with me. Am I your girlfriend or your sidechick, Shouei?”
“That’s not fair-”
“No, I’ll tell you what’s not fair. You want me to be happy with breadcrumbs.”
“You knew what you were getting into!”
“That’s such a cop-out and you know it!” 
Shouei looks at you with hardly any emotion on his face, save for the downturn of his lips. You close your eyes shut to calm yourself down so that you don’t say something you regret. He wants to reach for you, to comfort you even though he’s the one who made you cry. But his feet stay planted and he watches you crumple.
“Don’t cry,” he all but begs you, finally gathering you in his arms, “We’ll figure it out. Just… don’t cry-”
“I don’t know how to not be upset with you, with this,” you mumble tearfully as he rubs your back.
“I know,” Shouei says, curling a hand around your cheek, “I know.”
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“Hey,” you mumble, with heated cheeks, “Happy game day, I guess.” You thrust a bouquet of fresh red roses that you picked up from your favorite floral vendor around the corner from the training grounds.
“What a loser,” Shouei says fondly, putting you in a light affectionate headlock, “You’re gonna make me late for warm-up.”
“Well, I’m such a big fan of Dortmund that this was my plan all along,” you reply, “If I can distract you, then they have a better chance of winning, don’t they?”
“Whatever,” he rolls his eyes, turning you in his arms to greet you properly.
“Heard Isagi’s out for blood and redemption today,” you murmur as his lips press against the column of your throat.
His ears perk up and he’s torn between questioning you about Isagi or ignoring Isagi’s name coming out of your lips.In the end, the striker in him wins. Just like you knew it would.
“That’s insider information,” you protest when he grumbles.
“What’s the point of having a journalist girlfriend if I get no secrets out of it,” Shouei glares at you, shoving your shoulder gently.
“The point is that you get this,” you take his hand and press it against your chest, “This,” you press his hand against your crotch, “And this,” finally, you press his hand against your ass. “And my charming, stellar personality.”
“Stop seducing me, you temptress,” he scoffs, pushing away your lingering lips.
“Yeah, yeah. Wouldn’t want to ruin your gameday ritual,” you reply, “I’ll see you later, honey. Have a good game.”
You turn on your heel to leave the locker room, but not before smacking his ass and giving him a kiss good luck.
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This field, and every other field in the world, is close enough to home to you as your own barely furnished apartment in Tokyo is. Fresh grass, clean white lines and adrenaline swirls in the air as you stand in front of the camera, getting ready for the half-time program.
One of your favorite moments in front of the camera is when Julian Loki nearly bowled you over in pursuit of an overhead ball. He’d given you a quick side hug with a smug grin after the game, but ever since then, you’ve maintained a safe distance from the border of the field. The last thing you need is to cause a scene when you’re not even one of the twenty-two players on the field.
You’re wearing one of Shouei’s jersey under your emerald green blazer and you find it extraordinarily difficult to not turn your head to search for him as he walks off the pitch and into the tunnel for halftime. The Ubers are down by one goal and you can envision how tense his shoulders are while he mouths off at his defense for doing a “fucking awful job”.
It’s rare that you’ve ever gone down in the tunnel to see him while you’re on the clock. Chewing on your bottom lip, you debate on it. Should you, shouldn’t you… It’s not about you, is it? His frustration on the field? Even he could admit that he wasn’t playing at his best today.
If he was feeling unsettled about the lingering aftermath of the fight, he had every opportunity to open his stupid mouth anyway. How often are you supposed to have the same fight anyway? 
Oh, who are you lying to? In every universe, you want to have this fight with him. Because it’s him.
It’s just a rough patch.
You hope he can telepathically hear your words of encouragement from inside the tunnel.
[divide]
In the end, you don’t approach the tunnel but the Ubers end up winning the game in a comeback that has you and the entire stadium on your toes. Of course Shouei scored the equalizer and the winning goal with an insane fake out and a strike with incredible power, in true dramatic fashion.
You’re prepping in your tent to begin the post-game interviews with the captains of each team. Your heart is still racing from the last minute winning goal, seeing the strike sailing through the air behind your eyelids.
As Marc Snuffy walks into the tent with his chest heaving in exhilaration and a big grin, he’s roughly shoved to the side by none other than Barou Shouei. Before you can tell your cameraman to stop recording or before you can berate Shouei for nearly taking down your entire tent with his massive body, or for shoving his captain to the side like a sack of potatoes-
He crowds your personal space, giant hands cupping your cheeks and his thumbs rubbing your skin. His dark eyes dilate as he takes you in- his angel on the field in his jersey, his lucky number thirteen. You gasp in surprise as he presses his lips to yours cheekily, daring you to deepen the kiss.
You can vaguely hear his teammates hollering in the background, seeing their ever so serious striker kiss his mysterious, private girlfriend.
“Hey, I’ll see you at home, alright?” Shouei offers you a rare, small smile as he rubs your chin with his thumb.
All you can do is nod with a sheepish smile while your cameraman stares at you, stunned.
And when you watch the interview again, you flush at the reflection of your lovesick eyes and his yearning embrace.
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Nerves oddly seize you as you approach Shouei’s luxurious apartment building. It’s about four times bigger than the size of your own. It reflects his soccer player status and salary, you suppose. He’s been here for just as long as he’s been playing with the Ubers but he seemed to only care about decorating it in the last year or so. Ever since you’ve been around.
He’d told you he’d see you at home. Implying that this was your home, too. In truth, it's not your home at all, but the notion still makes you feel funny. Like butterflies fluttering in your belly, as if you can’t believe he still wants to be with you. He never makes you feel like you’re too much, even when you doubt yourself.
You didn’t mean to make yourself almost cry as you approach his unit with hesitant steps.
Shouei yanks the door open nearly off its hinges exactly one second after you text him announcing your arrival. He immediately pulls you inside, takes your coat and your bag and ushers you out of your shoes. Then, he kisses you in greeting.
It’s different from the kiss he laid upon you at the field. It’s softer, more docile.
“I bet your dm’s are flooded after that stunt you pulled today,” you mumble against his lips, peering up at him while he scoffs.
“Yeah, my agent is getting paid her worth today. At least one of us is private on social media,” Shouei says, sighing into your embrace as you wrap your arms around his neck.
“I guess I’m happy to be your mystery girl until the day comes.”
Shouei stares at you long and hard, his lips in an imperceptible line. Your heart pounds in your ears as he stares straight through you with darkened nearly red eyes, reaching into the layers and layers that you attempt to hide away from him. It’s not like you to be quiet and demure around him but you’re on unsteady ground. The words don’t come out of your mouth, wilting in your throat like dried up sunflowers.
But you look over his shoulder briefly, peering into the open space that leads into the kitchen and the dining room only to see two lit candlesticks and a bouquet of your favorite flowers at the center of his dinner table. A romantic burgundy glow illuminates the room along as the purple and orange streaks from the sunset filter in through the windows.
The question is written all over your face as you struggle not to let your bottom lip quiver. You’re usually the one who’s adept at words, but here you are unable to formulate a single one. 
“Stop crying,” he says gruffly, already wiping at your cheeks. You sniffle and laugh wetly as you hide your face from him.
“We both live in this insane world. I don’t want it to pull us apart like it has for so many others. And we can’t give up our careers but I can’t give up on you either,” you admit, feeling a weight lift off your chest.
“I know,” Shouei says simply, “We left on a shitty note last time, and I’m not heartless you know. At least, not for you.”
He grins wolfishly at you when you chuckle. He remains quiet for a beat, rubbing his thumbs into the nape of your neck soothingly until your sniffles lessen. Fidgeting with the collar of your sweater, Shouei hesitates.
“Uh,” he begins, “I got this rental in Venice, in June. It’s still a few months out, but you know…”
“You really want to go? With me?”
“No, I want to go with Isagi,” Shouei says flatly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, “If you’re asking if I want to go with you then I’ve done something wrong here.”
“At least you finally admit it,” you shove his shoulder. It’s a beautiful rental, with big windows and a great view of the city and the water. You’re already thinking about the gondola rides, the nighttime walks, the music. All of it with Shouei.
“And you made dinner and set the table,” you pinch his cheeks (he grimaces), “You are a romantic, after all…”
“Don’t make such a big deal about it, loser,” he scoffs. He kisses you gently as he wraps himself tightly around you. You sigh into his lips happily, already feeling lighter than when you landed in Turin not even seventy-two hours ago.
“Yeah, yeah,” you reply with a sparkling smile. 
Shouei makes a vow to himself to never make you cry in Italy ever again. Twice in two trips was more than enough.
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gunsatthaphan · 4 months
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✌🏻✨ ~ 2023 wrap-up ~ ✨✌🏻
another year gone, another post no one asked for djkghdf
I normally don't talk about personal stuff on here but like in the previous year I wanted do a little recap and give shoutouts to some lovely people 🧡
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It hasn't been an easy year for me, I started a new job which has been stressful and annihilated my work-life balance which resulted in me being sick a lot & just being stressed for most of the year lol. I barely found time to maintain this blog which may not seem like it on the outside since I somehow managed to frequently post but it's been difficult. I know I don't have to be online 24/7 but the fear of slipping into irrelevancy due to lack of content remains. I didn't have much time to watch bls & asian shows in general which I still consider my safe space and escapism so I'm resentful that I didn't get to fully take in and enjoy the things I'm passionate about and make content about them like I did in the previous years. That being said thank god for all the weekend shows that I did manage to watch and fully focus on like Only Friends and now Cooking Crush and Cherry Magic. Those have been life savers lol and also thank god for all the talented creators who gave us tons of content; I will mention some of them below.
But aside from my personal schedule and despite not watching a lot of stuff, I still tried to keep an eye on what's going on in the BL world for my monthly breakdowns, which I still enjoy making and I will likely continue them in 2024. I also came to the conclusion that 2023 ended up being another rendition of quantity > quality in the BL-verse so not much has changed lol - not that I expected it to. We got a wild and extended mix of different genres and subgenres this year which was nice to see. We saw companies & actors experimenting a lot (with varying results), we got new ships, new fandoms and new enemies, as well as a variety of comebacks and retirements. My watchlist this year was limited to Thai BLs and my blog mostly consisted of gmmtv related content and like I said, if I had had more time I probably would have explored more different shows - but I eventually resorted to what's familiar. I guess I needed an anchor in midst of all my personal chaos lol.
But despite my short list, there were a few gems that I enjoyed. The big ones like Only Friends, Moonlight Chicken, Be My Favorite, etc., and the small, less popular ones like Be Mine Superstar, Mission Fan Possible and a few more. I enjoyed talking to friends & making content about them in the limited timeframes I had. My opinions mostly matched those of the general public but unfortunately there were a few disappointments that were bathing in a success that I could not wrap my head around - Dangerous Romance and A Boss and a Babe being at the top of that list, followed by La Pluie and also a few of the lakorns I watched. But anyway.
Anyone who knows me knows my blog has been 83% FirstKhao this year lmao, they're my favorite people in this industry and watching them act, interact & making content about them has been one of my highlights. I'm excited to see what 2024 brings for them and even if it's not a series, I'm looking forward to seeing what else they will be up to 🥺 🐈‍⬛ 🐈
I'm going into 2024 with mixed feelings but above all I hope I will get the chance to expand my watchlist a little. I will post a personal top10 of the shows I watched this year shortly; until then I want to talk a bit about some lovely people this year - I’m not good with words lmao but thank you for being you and making this hellsite a better place 🥹 lol.
@leonpob - bestie!!! 🧡 our BL opinions have drifted apart this year lmao but who's to say friendships are solely based on mutual opinions. You're the best, stay the way you are and here's to another year of sharing thoughts and hopefully finding more shows to watch together (no matter if trash or not lol) 😉😘  @mayalunas - ahhhh I loved talking to you sooo so much this year, we agree on so many things that I'm convinced we share the same BL braincells lmao. You're one of my favorite people on this website, thank you for being such a good listener and a positive & supportive person to talk to 🥺 I hope you have the best 2024!!! ily!!! 🧡 @khunvegas - GURL idk where you went this year or if you still exist sdjkds but just know I haven't forgotten about you and I miss our talks 🥺 come back pls thank. @my-wandering-rabbit - I love our random out-of-context talks once a month lmao, I appreciate you and I hope we will continue our ritual of me watching shows and you asking me questions without watching them kjsdhg @bl-recs-and-reviews - Bestie!!! I love our catch-ups on Discord, you were one of the first people I ever talked to like 4 years ago? crazy. look at us. I still love you, you're the sweetest and I love talking to you 🧡🥺 @dreamedofyou - ahh I absolutely love your blog!!! I noticed you a lot in my notifications this year so I wanted to say thank you so much for interacting with my unhinged content (mostly FK related lmao) - We haven't talked a ton but I think of you as a very nice person and I hope we can talk more next year 🥹🫶🏻
and then of course some more shoutouts go out to all the wonderful and talented creators out there; I will never be able to tag all of you so sorry in advance but here are a few that I appreciate, some of which have also mentioned me in their wrap-up posts so thank you for that!!!
@taeminie @seatawinan @loveisactivated @forcebook @jimmysea @guzhu-furen @daymork @itsallaboutbl @seatawinans @blneobin @blmpfff @wanderlust-in-my-soul @pranpat @milkpansa @raypakorn @ahxu-laowen @forcebookish @forcebookcorner @morkofday @chinzillas @seajimmy @dimpledpran @i-got-the-feels @bengiyo @benkaaoi @25shadesoffebruary @moonkhao @smittenskitten @respectthepetty @earthfluuke @pharawee @khaotunq @khaotunqs @pranink @gabrielokun @piningintrovert @zhaozi @markpakin @firstkanaphans @firstforkhao @khaotungsfirst @wen-kexing-apologist @firstkpp @firstmix @bunnakit @khaothanawat @alienwlw @ffirstkhao (I can't tag the last 4 for some reason..)
have the best 2024!!!
🧡🧡🧡
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aledethanlast · 10 months
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If I'm already on the topic of the foxes and grown ups, let's talk about Kevin.
I think Kevin mellows out a lot by the time he goes pro. In part because there's not nearly so large an axe over his neck anymore, but largely because around his fourth year, when pro teams start seriously trying to recruit him, he realizes that his caustic and dismissive attitude towards his teammates can't really fly anymore. It's a Raven behavior, a label he's both disavowed and been disowned by, and most coaches are not his dad who will let him do whatever and kowtow to his expertise. He was an assistant coach for one semester, and never a captain. His behavior has a deadline and if he misses it, it might end his career. He's gonna need to make an actual effort.
And he wants to make the effort! He always admired the Trojans for their good nature, and while he is definitely a fox, he thinks he'd very much like being part of a more friendly team.
So when he signs on to his first pro team (the culmination of six weeks of studying various teams for play style, lineups, press reputation, and point stats), he feels ready to turn over a new leaf. If nothing else, he thinks he'd like to make more friends now that he doesn't have Andrew and Neil around all the time. And the team seems like a nice bunch! They're talented, driven, he can see how he can mesh with them.
This sentiment lasts him about a week.
"Put Neil on the goddamn phone," he says as he slams the door of his car.
"Kevin," his father says on the other end of the line. "We are at practice right now."
"I know, that's why I called you."
His father sighs in the way he does when he needs a few seconds to debate who he should blame for this latest headache. Then he hears a fist on glass on the other end, and a minute later the little fucker says "Kevin. How are you."
"I don't know how you did this or why, but I am going to fucking end you."
"Please be more specific." Smug little motherfucker. Kevin slams his foot on the gas and pretends it's Neil's neck. Though he eases up a bit when he almost tailspins out of the parking lot. He hasn't driven a car in six years, fucking sue him.
"Practice ended three hours ago, Neil. I am now leaving the stadium. Can you guess what I was doing in that meantime?"
"Rediscovering the lost city of Atlantis," Neil says, deadpan, and when Kevin goes to trial for homicide he is going to play this recording back for the court and they're going to call it justified.
"No, see, by the time Gotlieb started talking about Atlantis, I knew he was fucking with me. That doesn't salvage the two goddamn hours I spent trying to convince my teammates that the pyramids weren't, I shit you not, built by Napoleon." He pauses as he reconsiders what just came out of his mouth. "This was Andrew's idea, wasn't it?"
"Kevin, if you only talk to people about exy, they're going to think they can only talk to you about exy. Now your team knows you're an actual fucking person. Have fun with that."
Plague upon his fucking house. "Are you expecting a thank you?"
"You promised yourself you'll make more friends. I'm just holding you to it. So...yes."
Kevin doesn't say it, and he tells himself its because Neil doesn't need the ego. Somehow Neil hears him anyway. "Drive home safe, Kevin."
"Go get your rookies in line, Captain," Kevin says, and hangs up. He dials Andrew next; he needs to know just how much of Kevin's thesis Andrew turned into conspiracy fodder.
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Note
Quick! Go commit crimes Gummy Worm Anon!! No one is here to stop you
Jeff: What the fuck are you doing?
Tim on the couch with a full length mirror: I am doing my eyebrows
Jeff: that’s a big ass mirror
Tim: I have big ass eyebrows
Teen slender with tear marks on his face after finding out his s/o died: So...*shaky inhale* today has been great... *sniff* I can’t wait for more...*starts sobbing*
Splendor: I spilled lipstick in your Valentino bag
Trendor: Oh-! You spilled - W-! lipstick In my Valentino White Bag!?
Toby: I’m making holy water
Jeff: how??
Toby with the dumbest smile ever: I’m boiling the hell out of it
Ben: I am about to do the most dangerous skateboard stunt
Ben placing his hand on Jeff's shoulder: Thanks for coming friend I needed the support
Jeff placing his hand on Ben's shoulder: no thank YOU. Watching you get hurt is my hobby
Jeff: This is my Superbowl
L.J. placing a gallon of milk over the drain:....
L.J.: The house is thirsty
Ben: So I made this lie detector machine, let's test it out
Toby with no hesitation: Do you like Y/N?
Ben: No
Machine: Lie. Lie.
Ben As the machine continues to shout 'lie': Anyways it's obviously broken so we have to reschedule
Brian about to eat the last cookie:
Toby: Ka me ha me-
Brian: Nope, it's yours
Brian later to Slender: I know he probably can't do it but I'm not gonna fuck around and find out
Teen Slender: What's wrong?
Ghost s/o: you find out my tragic backstory in season 2. We don't have the budget this season
Teen Slender:...
Ghost s/o:..
Teen Slender: Wow that's pretty traumatic
L.J.: That's a nice painting *pills out basketball
Helen: Thank you-
Helen: is that the basketball from space jam that steals people's talents?
L.J.: Yeah
Helen:...
L.J.: :)
*rampant scrambling and screaming ensues*
Tim to Toby who is visibly injured: That was the dumbest thing I've ever seen
Tim: You know what that means mister
Toby: No! Please! Anything but that!
Tim: That's right you son of a bitch I'm telling on you to your mom
Me who slept in an extra two hours and was definitely asleep when you sent this who would have been useless to stop you because I’ve been so tired.
Also YELLLSSSSSS because I love those. I think the last one is my favorite but they’re all so accurate.
For the teen Slender and ghost s/o about the trauma being revealed in season two, I’m just imagining Slender standing there reading their mind while they both just have the dumbest looks on their faces. I needed those laughs thank you.
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