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melanchoire · 1 month ago

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KILLER ──── yu jimin & ahn yujin

── ( 🌹 ) you’ve always admired karina and yujin from afar, but when fate brings you together for a year-end festival performance, you find yourselves caught in a whirlwind of flirtation and intrigue, blurring the lines between art and passion in a way you never saw coming.

pairing. mean dom!karina x sub!lssrfm 6th member!fem reader x switch!yujin

warning(s). bitting, cunnilingus, cursing, degradation, fingering, hair pulling, humiliation, jealousy, making out, nipple play, pet names, semi exhibitionism, spanking, squirting.

word count. 7.3k

the air crackles with excitement and anticipation as you stand backstage at the sbs gayo daejeon, the end-of-year festival that celebrates the pinnacle of k-pop talent. your heart pounds in your chest, an exhilarating rhythm that matches the pulsating beat of the songs echoing from the main stage. today, you would have the unique opportunity to collaborate with two of the industry’s most mesmerizing stars: karina from aespa and yujin from ive. just the thought sends a shiver down your spine—both of them are known for their electrifying stage presence and undeniable charisma, each capable of commanding the audience's attention with just a flick of a wrist or a flash of a smile.

the lights dim, and the audience erupts in cheers, signaling that another group has taken the stage. you glance at the crew bustling about, adjusting microphones and setting the stage. everything feels surreal, like a vivid dream you’re unsure you want to wake from. you’ve watched these performances from the safety of your couch, eyes glued to the screen, marveling at the talent of others. but now, here you are—about to step into the spotlight yourself.

you fidget with the hem of your outfit, a sleek ensemble that feels foreign against your skin. it’s stunning, of course, designed to make you look every bit the star you’ve trained to be. but all you can focus on is the gnawing insecurity deep within you. would you be able to match the presence of your collaborators?

karina, with her ethereal beauty and powerful vocals, has taken the world by storm. her ability to blend fierce energy with captivating visuals has made her a household name. she dances with a fluidity that seems almost supernatural, her movements a perfect blend of strength and grace. you've watched her perform countless times, her movements a seamless blend of grace and power, especially when she dances to her solo song "UP!" her confidence radiates, setting the bar for every performer who steps foot on stage. you can only imagine the electric atmosphere she generates, and the thought of sharing the stage with her sends a jolt of both excitement and fear through your veins.

then there's yujin. since her debut, she has been a force of nature, a whirlwind of charm and charisma and you’ve always admired her—how she effortlessly steals the spotlight during each comeback, whether it's in a sophisticated ensemble like "I AM" or a more edgy concept like "BADDIE." her charisma is palpable, her presence overwhelming. yujin has an innate ability to connect with the audience, to draw them into her world with just a smile or a gaze. it’s hard not to get lost in her captivating smile and effortless performance style. in a world where everyone is striving for perfection, she stands out, effortlessly capturing hearts and making it look so easy. you remember watching her from the sidelines at various events, thinking: “will i ever be able to perform with that kind of confidence?”

you can’t help but feel overshadowed by their brilliance. they are known for their incredible stage presence, their ability to engage and enthrall. but you? you’re the quiet one, the one who shies away from the spotlight even in the warmth of your group members’ company. yes, you've had your moments on stage, but always with the comfort of your teammates around you, their energy bolstering yours.

while your groupmates seem to flirt and play around with ease, you often stand at the edges of those conversations, a spectator in a world that seems just a touch too bright, too loud for you to jump in. you have had brief interactions with karina and yujin before, perhaps a shy wave or a quick exchange of compliments, but nothing that would prepare you for this collaboration, where you would have to hold your own against their vibrant personalities.

the announcer’s voice booms through the speakers, calling your names, and your stomach flips. you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. this is your moment. you’ve practiced countless times, poured your heart into the choreography, and learned the nuances of the song "killer," a sultry piece that’s all about confidence and allure. but now, standing here, you wonder if you truly have it in you.

your thoughts are interrupted when you feel warm hands at your hips. you turn to find yunjin smiling brightly at you, her presence a comforting anchor amidst the chaos. "you’re going to be amazing," she says, her voice bright and encouraging. "just remember, it’s all about having fun. No one’s here to judge you!"

her playful words wash over you like a gentle wave, pushing your worries to the side. she continues to rattle off a few inside jokes that make you chuckle, reminding you that you’re not alone in this. behind her, the rest of your members appear, offering you their unwavering support. sakura, with her calm demeanor, gives you a thumbs-up, while chaewon brings you into a tight embrace. kazuha, ever the optimist, grins at you and nods, her energy infectious. eunchae bounces on her toes, her excitement palpable, “you’ve got this!”

the embrace from your members wraps around you like a warm cocoon. for a fleeting moment, the anxiety begins to dissipate, replaced by the love and camaraderie that define your group. their faith in you feels like a lifeline, tethering you to the moment and providing a flicker of confidence. but as the sound of the mc's voice filters through the chaos backstage, signaling your imminent entrance, the butterflies return, dancing wildly in your stomach.

suddenly, the staff signals for you to head to the stage, and your heart pounds harder. you can hear the crowd roaring in anticipation, a cacophony of cheers and applause that sends adrenaline surging through your veins. you share one last glance with your groupmates, and they all nod at you, a silent promise that they’ll be cheering from the sidelines.

taking a deep breath, you step out onto the stage, the bright lights washing over you like a wave. the audience, a sea of eager faces, blurs into the background as you focus on the music that begins to play. your heart races not just from the excitement but from the overwhelming pressure of meeting expectations—yours and those of the fans.

when you step onto the stage, the world outside fades into obscurity. you are cocooned in a warm glow, bright lights shining down upon you and the unmistakable hum of excitement from the crowd filling your ears. it’s your moment, and you’re ready to seize it. in the center, you stand shoulder to shoulder with your backup dancers, their energy pulsating around you. at one end of the stage, karina stands with her back to the camera, radiating an enigmatic aura as she awaits the cue to sing. at the other end, yujin beams at the audience, her charming smile lighting up the room.

as you take in the sight of your two groupmates, a thrill runs through you. karina catches your eye, a smirk playing on her lips as she shakes her head, dismissing whatever playful banter you might have exchanged moments earlier. you feel a twinge of challenge in her gaze; it’s a silent dare that stirs something deep inside you. when you turn your attention to yujin, however, everything shifts. her grin is infectious, a bright spark that ignites a warmth in your chest. she waves lightly, a small wink sent your way that sends your heart racing.

but there’s little time to dwell on these feelings as the music begins to swell, an intoxicating melody that envelops you. the beat drops, and the moment karina starts singing, a wave of calm washes over you. her voice is a smooth, inviting embrace, allowing you to fall into the rhythm of the performance. you’ve practiced, but here, in this moment, you find a surprising ease. perhaps it’s the thrill of the sensual concept you’re tackling for the first time, or maybe it’s the undeniable chemistry among the three of you.

as the song progresses, your shy, reserved persona melts away and the transformation is remarkable. the shy girl the fans have come to know fades into the background, replaced by a bold and vibrant persona. you’ve never explored a sensual concept like this, but something about tonight feels right, like destiny calling. your body moves with the rhythm, and the choreography calls for something deeper—a sensuality that intertwines with each movement, drawing you closer to karina and yujin.

you notice how they both fit seamlessly into this seductive concept, their voices intertwining like threads of silk, creating a tapestry of sound that captivates the audience. karina’s low, sultry notes contrast beautifully with yujin’s bright and playful tones, both of them showcasing their strengths. Y

you are the third voice, harmonizing with them, but also pushing the boundaries of the choreography. It’s exhilarating.

the movements are fluid, a dance that flows between desire and restraint. there’s a moment where you’re touching karina, your hand gliding up her arm, and the connection sends electric shocks through your body. you meet her gaze, and there’s an understanding in her eyes—a mutual acknowledgment of the moment that sends your pulse racing. the way she bites her lip, a hint of mischief sparking in her expression, gives you the courage to continue.

you know what you’re doing, yet the thrill of it is intoxicating. you push the limits, letting your hands linger a moment longer than the choreography dictates. you feel the heat of the stage, the intensity of the performance, and the adrenaline that rushes through you. it’s not just dancing; it’s an unspoken dialogue, a flirty banter exchanged through each movement.

yujin is the cherry on top of this decadent cake. when she glances your way, that radiant grin reaffirms your confidence. the way she moves, with a blend of elegance and playful charm, is mesmerizing. you catch her eye as you slide your hand over her thigh during one of the sultry movements. it’s deliberate, a tease that feels electrifying. her breath catches for a fraction of a second, but then she smiles wider, as if inviting you to play.

you notice how the dance is designed to bring the three of you together, creating a palpable tension that makes the air thick with unspoken chemistry. there’s a deliberate intimacy in the choreography: sliding hands along arms, teasing glances, lingering touches. with each movement, you feel your confidence growing, and as the spotlight shines down, illuminating every curve and angle, you allow yourself to embrace the boldness you’ve found.

the audience’s cheers swell around you, drowning out any doubt or hesitation. you lose yourself in the performance, riding the wave of excitement, a primal instinct taking over as you navigate the choreography. the sensual touches become a language of their own—sliding your hands along karina’s waist, brushing against yujin's arms. each connection, each fleeting touch, feels like an unspoken promise.

this is not just a performance; it’s an exploration. your hands glide across their bodies, exploring, teasing, igniting a fire that simmers beneath the surface. when you lock eyes with yujin again, her playful expression urges you on, and you find yourself pushing boundaries, taking risks you wouldn’t have dared to consider before. you let your fingers slide from her shoulder down to her collarbone, brushing against her neck in a movement that feels almost magnetic.

you can’t help but notice the intensity of their gazes, the way they watch you, and it makes you feel alive. you thrive under the spotlight, every moment resonating with the cheers of the audience, fueling your daring. it’s intoxicating, like stepping into a dream where you can be anyone, someone fierce and confident, unafraid of what might come next.

as the music shifts, you find yourself at the edge of a crescendo, the beat pulsing wildly as you prepare for the final sequence. the choreography calls for a break dance, and as yujin takes her seat, and you and karina kneel on chairs behind her, anticipation crackling in the air. you share a knowing glance with karina before your focus shifts back to yujin.

you perform the head rotation together, a synchronized move that brings you even closer to her. when yujin begins to sing her part, her voice is a beautiful melody that wraps around you like silk. then comes the moment when you and karina place your hands on yujin’s shoulders, ready to lift one leg in a clean, sensual movement. but as you slide your hand down yujin’s shoulder, the touch is softer than intended. your fingers brush against her collarbone, trailing playfully down to her neck. it’s unexpected, and you can feel the tension in the air shift. the audience gasps collectively, but it’s the way yujin’s eyes widen for a split second before she regains her composure that sends your heart racing.

the thrill of the performance peaks, and you can feel the crowd’s energy erupting, as if they can sense the chemistry simmering between the three of you. the moment is electric, and as your fingers linger a heartbeat longer than necessary, a rush of heat spreads across your cheeks.

when the performance ends, the applause rings in your ears, but your mind is still buzzing. you share triumphant smiles with karina and yujin, each of you riding the high of the performance. but when the lights dim, and the cameras shift away from the three of you, you notice something that makes your heart skip a beat.

karina’s gaze is locked onto you, a smirk still playing on her lips. there’s a fierce intensity in her eyes, something deeper that you hadn’t noticed before, and it sends a rush of warmth through your body. but it’s yujin who catches your breath. she’s watching you with a look that is almost predatory, her charming smile replaced by something more charged, more dangerous.

you take a step back, heart racing, feeling exposed under their scrutiny. the teasing glances you exchanged earlier now seem to hold a weight you hadn’t anticipated. there's electricity in the air, a connection that feels almost palpable.

in that moment, you’re caught between the two of them, each exuding their own allure and charm. karina, with her bold confidence and smirk that promises mischief; yujin, with her radiant smile and eyes that glimmer with something more than mere friendship. you can feel the tension thickening, and for a fleeting second, you wonder if perhaps there’s something more behind those gazes.

you’ve just come off the stage, adrenaline coursing through your veins, the echoes of cheers still ringing in your ears. the performance was electric; every move, every beat resonated with the crowd, and you can still feel the heat of the spotlight. as you stride towards your dressing room, the noise of the world outside fades away, leaving only the rush of your own heartbeat and the thrill of collaboration with karina and yujin lingering in your mind.

the door swings open, and you step inside, immediately met with the soft glow of the room’s lights. your heart rate begins to settle, and you reach for a bottle of water on the table, taking a long, refreshing gulp. you lean against the cool surface, savoring the moment of stillness. the stage may have been a whirlwind, but this was your sanctuary.

as you make your way to the plush couch in the corner, the soft fabric welcoming you like an old friend, you hear the door creak open behind you. karina and yujin stride in, their energy still crackling, filling the small space with a palpable tension.

“hey!” karina says, a hint of something serious in her tone as she stands directly in front of you, blocking your path. “did you enjoy the performance?”

you look up, meeting her gaze. there’s something in the intensity of her eyes that makes you hesitate. “yeah, it was fun,” you reply vaguely, hoping to downplay her curiosity. but as you attempt to sidestep her, she’s quick to take a step closer.

but she doesn’t let you off the hook. “fun?” she echoes, her voice laced with skepticism. “it looked like you were having a lot more than just fun with us out there. you seemed quite happy being... touchy.” she presses, her eyes narrowing playfully yet intensely.

a rush of heat floods your cheeks at her words, and you try to sidestep her again, seeking refuge in the comfort of the couch, but she’s faster. her fingers wrap around your forearm, gently but firmly holding you in place. “what’s the rush? you don’t want to talk about it?”

you try to step around her, but she moves in front of you, her presence blocking your way. “c’mon, just answer me,” she insists.

“seriously? can’t you just let me breathe for a second?” you attempt to sound annoyed, but there’s an undercurrent of tension you can’t shake off.

then, as you make an attempt to back away, you collide with yujin, who had been standing quietly behind you. the sudden contact sends a jolt through your body, your back hitting her chest. you look over your shoulder, and she flashes a teasing smile that sends shivers down your spine.

“oh, what’s this?” yujin coos, her voice playful yet laced with challenge. “i didn��t know that beneath that shy personality, there’s a little attention-seeker trying to come out… a hidden whore craving attention.”

you open your mouth to retort, but the words falter as karina’s hand suddenly grips your face, squeezing your cheeks slightly to redirect your focus onto her. “uh-uh,” she says with a mocking tone, her expression unreadable yet intoxicating. “you’re in no position to give attitude right now. you’ve already had more than enough fun out there.” her tone is teasing, but there’s an edge to it, one that makes your stomach flutter.

you try to wriggle free, but her grip is surprisingly strong. Instead, you find yourself looking deep into her eyes, a silent conversation passing between you. there’s mischief there, and something deeper that makes you hesitate.

the room grows thick with tension as karina holds your gaze, her eyes speaking a language of their own. you can feel the air crackling between the three of you, a magnetic pull that is hard to resist. your heart races even faster, an exhilarating mix of anxiety and excitement flooding your system.

“honestly,” karina continues, her voice softening slightly, “i think you deserve to be put in your place.” the way she says it is both a challenge and an invitation, leaving your mind spinning.

the tension in the room thickens, and you catch yujin’s gaze as she watches the exchange with an amused smirk, her own intentions simmering just beneath the surface. in that moment, it feels as though the air around you is charged, electric with unspoken desires and possibilities.

before you can process her words or even find your own, karina grips a handful of your hair, her fingers threading through the strands as she pulls you closer. the world outside fades away, and in a heartbeat, her lips crash against yours, initiating a kiss that is both passionate and messy—a collision of desires that leaves you breathless.

you’re caught off guard, your heart pounding in your chest as the kiss deepens. karina’s lips move against yours with a fervor that ignites something inside you. her other hand cradles your jaw, tilting your face just right as if she’s molding you to fit perfectly against her.

in that moment of dizzying intensity, you barely register the warmth of yujin as she sidles up behind you. her hands slide around your hips, and you can feel her breath hot against your ear, sending a shiver racing down your spine. “you really do like this attention, don’t you?” she murmurs, her tone sultry and teasing.

you’re torn between responding and getting lost in the sensations swirling around you. karina’s grip on your hair tightens just enough to remind you of her presence, of her ownership, while yujin’s fingers trail up your sides, brushing against your skin through the fabric of your outfit.

the moment is intoxicating, overwhelming. yujin’s hands glide around your waist, pulling you closer as she leans in to kiss your jaw, trailing soft, warm kisses along your neck and shoulder. you gasp at the sensation, the way her lips graze your skin, igniting a trail of heat wherever she touches. you can’t help but lean into her, surrendering to the intoxicating mixture of thrill and lust. that's when she bites gently at your skin, leaving small red marks that ache and throb with a tantalizing heat, making it difficult to suppress the soft whimper that escapes your lips.

karina, noticing your reaction, pulls back slightly to look you in the eye, her expression a mix of mischief and satisfaction. “c'mon, focus on me now. you've already given her enough attention there on stage, it's my turn now.”

yujin laughs softly, a sound that seems to reverberate through you. “i think she enjoys having the attention of both of us at the same time, don't you?” she teases, her fingers still exploring the curves of your body with an unabashed confidence that leaves you dizzy.

“wait—” you begin, but karina’s lips crash against yours again, silencing any protests you might have had. you can’t help but melt into the kiss, responding in kind, feeling your inhibitions slip away as the thrill of the moment takes over.

“look at you...” karina murmurs against your lips, her voice low and sultry, as her fingers tighten in your hair. “always all shy and sweet for your fans, but here you are…” she kisses you again, deeper this time, as if she wants to consume you entirely. you can taste the heat of her breath, feel the urgency in her touch, and it drives you wild.

yujin’s fingers begin to explore, finding their way under your shirt, teasingly grazing the skin of your stomach. “i think you’ve been hiding too much.” she whispers, her breath warm against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “time to let go, don’t you think?”

yujin’s hands travel boldly, her fingers finding their way to your breasts, teasing over the fabric of your top. you gasp into the kiss, your body arching slightly as she pushes against you, her warmth enveloping you from behind. the sensation is electric, a shocking jolt that resonates through your entire being.

“don’t act so surprised.” karina whispers against your lips, her breath warm and inviting. “you know you love this.”

there’s a part of you that wants to deny it, to push back against this surge of overwhelming desire. but as yujin continues to grind against your ass, her body a warm, intoxicating presence behind you, and karina’s lips dance against yours, you realize that the barriers you’ve built are crumbling.

you moan softly, the sound escaping your lips before you can even think to hold it back. it’s a surrender, a realization that perhaps this is what you’ve been yearning for all along—an escape from the confines of your carefully constructed persona as a k-pop idol, a chance to explore the wild and the sensual, the playful and the forbidden.

“you’re finally letting go.” karina murmurs, a satisfied smile breaking across her lips as she pulls away just enough to see your expression. “that’s more like it.”

you can see the approval in her eyes, and it sends a thrill through you, fueling the fire that’s already igniting between you. with each passing moment, the dressing room feels smaller, more intimate, as if the world outside has faded away entirely.

yujin leans in, her voice low and teasing. “are you ready for us to show you just how much fun this can be?”

and in that moment, you realize that the performance may have ended, but the real show is only just beginning.

before you can answer yujin, karina sweeps the contents of the vanity desk with her arm, sending makeup and hair tools tumbling to the floor in a cascade of chaos. lipsticks roll like marbles, and a hair dryer clatters loudly, disrupting the serene quiet that had cloaked the afternoon.

you hear the sound before you see it—a chaotic crash of makeup and hair tools clattering to the floor, a cacophony that sends a chill of foreboding through your spine. the world narrows into a singular focus, and you turn your head just in time to catch karina's wild, determined gaze. she is a force of nature, an unpredictable storm, and you feel the air shift as she strides toward you, intent on asserting her will.

before you can utter a word of protest, karina’s hand shoots out, seizing a handful of your hair. it stings, a sharp reminder of her dominance, and with a single fluid motion, she pushes you forward onto the vanity desk. your stomach collides with the cold, unyielding surface, and a rush of indignation bubbles within you. you manage to stifle a hiss, pressing your hands against the smooth wood to cushion the impact, though you can’t hide the frown twisting your lips.

the world around you blurs for a moment. the mix of perfumes, the mess on the floor, and the growing feeling of vulnerability all combine to cloud your thoughts. you blink rapidly, trying to ground yourself in this bizarre situation.

you feel your heart racing in your chest as you lie there, vulnerable and caught off guard. you glance sideways, and there, standing before you with a confident smirk, is yujin. her heels click against the tiled floor, echoing like a metronome counting down to some inevitable climax. she crosses her arms, a smug grin spreading across her face, eyes twinkling with amusement. the sight of her fills you with a mix of dread and defiance.

“look at you...” she says, her tone playful but edged with a hint of authority. “in no position to complain now, are you?”

you want to answer her, to unleash the sharp-tongued retort bubbling in your throat, but before you can articulate the words, karina’s fingers deftly hook the waistband of your pants. the sensation sends a shiver down your spine, a mixture of dread and adrenaline surging through you. she pulls your pants down in one swift motion, and a sharp slap lands on your exposed ass, earning a gasp from you that surprises even yourself.

“what the—!” you feel the heat creeping up your face, a rush of embarrassment flooding through your veins. you can’t believe this is happening. you’re caught between wanting to fight back and the sheer absurdity of the situation.

“oh, don’t act so shocked.” yujin purrs, leaning closer. her voice is a smooth whisper, and despite the chaos, there’s a teasing lilt to it that stirs something deep inside you. “you brought this upon yourself.”

“i didn’t do anything!” you protest, the indignation bubbling in your chest. but even as you say it, you can feel the heat of their gazes, the weight of their laughter wrapping around you like a cozy blanket that you don’t want to wear.

karina leans closer, her breath warm against your ear, and the way she looks at you sends a shiver down your spine. “be a good girl and accept it, will you?” she murmurs.

she hooked her fingers in the waistband of your panties and yanked them down your legs, letting them drop to your ankles. then she settles between your spread thighs, her hands gripping your ass cheeks and spreading them apart. she leaned in, dragging the flat of her tongue up your slit in one slow, teasing lick. she hummed in approval at the taste of you, her fingers digging into your flesh.

feeling karina's mouth on your pussy, your head fell forward against the desk with a thunk, along with a breathy moan escaping your lips.

karina delved between your thighs, her tongue swirling around your clit before sucking the sensitive bud between her lips. her hands slid around to grip your hips, pulling you harder against her hungry mouth as she ate you out with wild abandon. the obscene sounds of her tongue and lips working your pussy filled the room, mingling with the pulsing beat of the music outside.

but before anything else can happen, yujin places her hand under your chin, lifting your face up so you're looking at her.

“i wanna have fun too, pretty girl.” without hesitation, she stepped back and quickly unbuttoned her tight leather pants, shimmying out of them to reveal a pair of skimpy, black lace panties underneath.

as yujin kicks her pants aside, she turns to the table, swinging one leg over the table and placing one foot on the surface, almost straddling your face. she wore a pair of panties that left little to the imagination, the damp patch at the crotch betraying her arousal. towering over you, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband and slowly peeled them down, revealing her glistening pussy, bare and ready.

“fuck, hurry up, i need your tongue inside me.” yujin panted, gripping your hair and pulling your face against her wet heat. she ground her hips forward, smearing her juices all over your lips and chin, coating your mouth with her essence.

you dove forward eagerly, burying your face between yujin's spread thighs. the scent of her arousal filled your nostrils as you leaned in to run your tongue along her glistening slit, tasting her essence for the first time. yujin gasped and shuddered above you, her hips rocking forward to press her pussy harder against your mouth.

“oh fuck, just like that.” she groaned, tangling her fingers in your hair and holding you in place. her grip tightened as you began to explore her folds more thoroughly, your tongue delving between them to taste her deeply.

meanwhile, karina behind you hums in approval at your taste, lapping at your folds with renewed enthusiasm. she zeroed in on your clit, circling the sensitive bud with the tip of her tongue before sucking it between her lips. two fingers delved into your wet channel, pumping in and out as she ate you out with single-minded focus.

yujin's musky flavor exploded on your tongue as you licked and sucked at her most intimate places. you focused your attention on her clit, circling and flicking the sensitive bud with the tip of your tongue before sucking it between your lips. yujin's grip on your hair tightened even more, her thighs trembling around your head as she ground herself against your face.

keeping one hand fisted in your hair, holding you in place, she raised the other to the hem of her tight top, sneaking her free hand underneath her shirt. she cupped the soft mounds, kneading and squeezing them roughly as you continued to devour her pussy. her fingers plucked at her nipples, rolling and tugging on the sensitive buds as she writhed beneath your oral attentions. yujin let out a low moan, her head falling back as sparks of pleasure shot straight to her core.

the sight of her touching herself, putting on a show just for you, only heightened your own building arousal.

behind you, karina could feel your body tensing, your muscles pulling taut as your orgasm approached. she curled her fingers inside your pussy, stroking that special spot deep within as she licked and sucked mercilessly at your clit. karina's free hand slid around your hip, finding your ass and squeezing the cheek hard.

yujin was just as close, her hips bucking erratically against your face as she grabbed her tits with wild abandon. she pinched and tugged at her stiff nipples, sending jolts of pleasure ricocheting through her body. her pussy clenched and throbbed, dripping arousal down your chin as she rutted against you.

yujin's breath came faster, her chest heaving as she continued to grope and tease her tits, putting on a show for you. her grip on your hair tightened, pulling you harder against her dripping cunt as she rutted her hips against your face, chasing her pleasure. “don't stop, don't you dare fucking stop.” yujin cried out, her voice ragged with lust.

karina stands up, leaning over your body still lying on the table, pressing her chest against your back. “fuck, look at you, taking both of us so well, making yujin feel so good…” she purred, nipping at your shoulder before sucking a dark mark into your skin. her fingers picked up speed, fucking into you harder, faster, the wet sounds of your coupling growing louder. “you're such a dirty girl, getting off on being used like this. i love it.”

karina revealed the power she had over you, in the way your thighs trembled and your stomach muscles fluttered under her touch. she could feel you teetering on the edge, your pussy clenching around her plunging fingers. “now be a darling for me and make yujin cum, will you? since you had the guts to play the role of the daring girl on stage when you were with us, i hope you can put that attitude on now too.”

again, karina drops to her knees, burying her face between your thighs and giving her full attention to your pussy again. she held you in place, pinning you against the desk with her body as she devoured your pussy like a starving woman.

she could feel your body tensing, your walls fluttering around her plunging fingers as your climax approached rapidly. she curled her digits just right, rubbing that spongey spot deep inside that made your toes curl in your hells. at the same time, she sealed her lips around your clit, sucking the sensitive bud hard as she flicked her tongue over it rapidly. the filthy wet sounds of her tongue and fingers working you over filled the cubicle, punctuated by your desperate whimpers and moans, oh, and yujin's babbling moans and heavy breathing.

“that's it, baby girl.” karina growled, her voice muffled against your sex. “come for us. let go and come all over my fingers like the dirty little slut you are.”

the combination of karina's filthy words and the intense stimulation proved too much. with a final hard suck to your clit and a deep thrust of her fingers, karina sent you hurtling over the precipice your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, your inner walls spasming uncontrollably around her digits as you gushed your release into her eager mouth. karina drank you down greedily, prolonging your pleasure until you were a shaking, boneless mess against the desk.

you screamed your pleasure into yujin's cunt, the sound vibrating deliciously against her sensitive flesh. yujin cried out, her own climax slamming into her as she grinded your face against her dripping sex. she came hard, her juices flooding your mouth as she shuddered and convulsed, her tits bouncing in her hands as she pinched and tugged her nipples mercilessly.

karina continued to stroke your spasming walls, milking every last drop of pleasure from your quaking body. the two of them worked you through your intense orgasm, fingers and mouth never stopping until they had wrung every last drop of pleasure from your quivering body. finally, with a shudder and a gasp, you slumped against the table, utterly spent and satisfied.

in front of you, yujin slowly came down from her high, her grip on your hair loosening as she caught her breath. she looked down at you with a satisfied, almost feral grin, taking in the sight of you, debauched and panting, still buried between her thighs.

yujin licked her lips, still flushed and panting from her intense orgasm. she gazed down at you with a wicked, satisfied smirk, taking in your disheveled appearance; hair mussed from her grip, cheeks flushed, and lips glistening with her essence. she could see the way your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath, the evidence of your shared pleasure splattered on your skin.

as the aftershocks of your shared orgasms began to subside, yujin reluctantly pulled your face away from her sensitive pussy. she helped you sit up, her hands roaming over your curves appreciatively as she took in your disheveled state.

”fuck, that was so hot.” yujin purred, her voice low and rough from her cries of ecstasy. she slid off the table, standing on wobbly legs before tugging you up by your hair. her other hand found your chin, tilting your face up to meet her heated gaze. she leaned in, hovering her lips a mere breath away from yours, letting you feel the weight of her arousal. “you're fucking incredible baby.” she breathed against your mouth before closing the distance and kissing you deeply, tasting herself on your tongue.

but of course, once again, you turned all your attention to yujin again. and to no one's surprise, that wasn't something karina liked.

as yujin kissed you, karina emerged from between your thighs, stood up and pressed herself against your back. she grabbed a fistful of your hair, gripping it tightly as she pulled your head back, separating you from yujin and forcing you to look up at her.

she withdrew her soaked fingers from your dripping pussy, bringing them to your lips. she tapped your bottom lip with the slick digits, smearing your own arousal across your mouth. “open your mouth.” karina purred, her voice a low, seductive growl.

somewhat bewildered, you didn't react immediately to her request. karina's expression changed almost instantly, the discontent on her face was evident when she saw that you didn't comply with her order when she was more than gentle and clear with you.

“i said "open your mouth".” she repeats her own words, however, her tone is more authoritative and demanding, a clear difference from the first time. without waiting for you to respond, she wrapped the strands of your hair around her hand, pulling them in a harsh tug, drawing a gasp from you and forcing your mouth open.

karina plunged her fingers inside, not giving you a chance to resist as she shoved them in deep, pushing them in and out, fucking your throat with her hand. “that's it baby, clean up the mess you made on my fingers...”

at the same time, karina shoved her other hand under your chin, gripping your jaw and forcing your mouth open even wider as she pumped her fingers faster, harder, hitting the back of your throat with each brutal thrust. drool dripped down your chin, your eyes watering from the intensity of her actions. “i bet you fucking love having your throat used like this, don't you? love being treated like a set of holes for us to use?”

karina abruptly pulled her fingers out of your mouth, leaving your jaw slack and your chest heaving. a string of saliva connected her slick digits to your bottom lip before breaking, dripping down onto your heaving chest. karina licked her fingers clean, savoring your combined tastes with a wicked grin.

“mmmh, you taste fucking divine.” karina purred, her voice a low, rough rasp. she released your hair and gripped your chin instead, tilting your face up to force you to meet her intense, lust-filled gaze. her other hand slid down your throat, feeling the way your pulse raced beneath her touch.

she leaned in close, her face mere inches from yours. you could feel her hot breath ghosting over your lips, smell the faint hint of sweat and perfume that clung to her skin. her icy brown eyes bored into yours, filled with a hunger that made your core clench with anticipation.

“you're fucking gorgeous like this, all disheveled and desperate.” karina murmured, her voice a low, seductive purr. her hand slid from your chin to wrap around the back of your neck, long fingers tangling in your hair as she gripped it tightly. she used her hold on you to yank your head back, exposing the column of your throat to her greedy mouth.

karina's lips crashed against your neck, her teeth sinking into the tender skin as she marked you as hers. she licked and sucked at the reddening skin, no doubt leaving a vivid hickey in her wake. her other hand slid down your spine, gripping your ass and pulling your hips flush against hers.

“i know you're craving more…”

her eyes, usually sharp and playful, are languid now, half-lidded as she leans closer. you feel the warmth of her breath ghost across your neck, the faintest scent of her familiar strawberry lip gloss filling your senses. a delighted flutter takes root in your stomach, a feeling you know all too well, the one she ignites with just a look.

your own gaze is drawn to her lips, the curve of her grin promising a stolen moment, a quiet connection before the storm of the stage. the small hand resting on your hips makes your skin tingle.

but then, just as your fingers brush Karina’s arm, the bubble bursts.

karina’s eyes widen, a mischievous glint replacing the warmth of a moment ago. you see her mouth curl into a teasing smirk as she steps away, abandoning you with a laugh that echoes in the suddenly silent room. “oops, looks like someone was getting too comfortable.” she throws a teasing glance over her shoulder, her voice laced with playful mockery. “better hurry, princess. you’ve got a show to do in, what… five minutes? three minutes.”

she pulled away, that teasing smile still playing on her lips, and turned to yujin, who was leaning against the makeup table, watching the exchange with an almost feline grace. a slow smirk spread across yujin’s face as she met your gaze, a knowing look that mirrored karina’s.

then, with theatrical flair, karina grabbed your pants, which had been carelessly tossed over a nearby chair, and threw them at you. they landed in a crumpled heap at your feet. “wouldn't want you going on stage half… dressed, would we?” the laughter in her voice was low and rich, the kind that made your stomach twist in a pleasant sort of knot.

the sound of fabric rustling came from your left. you glanced over to see yujin straightening her top, smoothing down a non-existent crease. you could hear the soft click of a button being fastened, the sound somehow echoing in the strangely quiet room. both of them were watching you now, their amusement palpable. their eyes were like dark pools reflecting the glow of the stage lights, holding a wicked glint that simultaneously teased and intrigued.

“oh, and tell sakura unnie i send my regards.” yujin called over her shoulder, the playful tone doing nothing to soothe the flush creeping up your neck. you watched, dumbstruck, as both she and karina, a mirror-image smirk on her own face, walked out of the room, leaving you alone.

the room felt suddenly cold, the earlier heat replaced by a chilling wave of embarrassment. your cheeks were burning, no doubt a vibrant shade of red. your entire body tingled with the memory of karina's touch and the shared heat between you and yujin. they had been playing with you, teasing you, and you'd fallen for it hook, line, and sinker.

you could picture them now, probably giggling together outside the door. how could you be so easily distracted? you were a professional, an idol, a performer! you had a show to do, and here you were, pants on the floor, heart pounding, and a blush that could probably be seen from space.

before you could think anything else, loud, hurried knocks echo against the dressing room door. following that, you hear the voice of chaewon, your groupmate, calling your name in a hurried and clearly irritated tone. “we are waiting for you to start our performance! if you don't put on your outfit and bring your ass to the stage right now, you know you're going to regret it later!”

the night would definitely be longer than you expected…

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vxsellie · 4 months ago

Note

UHH IM THER PERSON WHO ASKED FOR FIREFIGHTER!ElLLIE HEADCANONS AND TBH IDRM😇

synopsis. more aflame headcannons bc anon sent a second ask saying they actually want it to be specific LMAO

notes. when i tell you my inbox is flooded with questions about aflame / whether there will be a part two / etc etc etc, i mean it's FLOODED. ive said no to a part two, but i decided doing this for u guys might settle u down & put a rest to the millions of asks i get daily on that fic also! i already posted a small thing about ellie & the reader's life together following the story, but i will be repeating things from that post

warnings. mentions of grief (unnamed character dw), discussion of infant death (also unnamed but still a bit heavy), eventual sex (not necessarily smut but enough that i feel i should put a warning)

𐙚 after everything, you ended up staying with ellie for about a month

𐙚 okay so you obviously ended up staying with her & lived happily ever after

𐙚 but lets yap about the slow burn era that inevitably took place beforehand shall we

𐙚 first of all! for the first two weeks, she gave you her room and insisted on sleeping on the couch. you, of course, felt horribly guilty. but ellie was set on giving you the good option & she's quite the force to be reckoned with when she's arguing.

𐙚 so you eventually just gave in and slept in her bed.

𐙚 it was warm and clean and smelled like her. you loved it. the only thing it was missing, however, was her.

𐙚 to make matters worse, you knew ellie was only a short distance from you & yet it felt like you were eons apart. you felt the empty space in her bed like a hole in the earth, always hard to face whilst simultaneously always begging for your attention.

𐙚 understandably, these two weeks spent in separate sleeping quarters was nigh unbearable for you. but you felt out of place to bring it up. i mean, you'd only known her for a short amount of time. who were you to tell her to change the layout she'd si graciously designed for you?

𐙚 you spent the nights yearning for a woman whose touch you'd barely known, cold despite the heavy blankets atop you.

𐙚 but the days were amazing.

𐙚 you'd developed the habit of cooking breakfast after making it that first morning as a thanks for her hospitality. but after seeing the bright look on her face, you'd instantly decided you wanted to make her breakfast every day for the rest of your life.

𐙚 then, following breakfast, you'd get ready in the small bathroom. the first few days, you bumped into one another an immeasurable number of times, ellie apologizing over & over for the lack of space. but you loved it. it felt more intimate, seeing her rush while brushing her teeth because she'd woken up late. it felt like a life you could get used to. one with her.

𐙚 ellie continued to go to work, throwing on her uniform that you tried your hardest not to swoon over seeing her in. that thin black tank top she wears without a bra? fuck you had to force yourself to look away when she stretched her arms up to brush her hair.

𐙚 when she was gone, you spent your time looking for a new place to stay, lazing about the couch with the tv playing low in the background.

𐙚 oh and also! your fucking boss fired you. despite having worked at that stupid grocer for a year now, he didn't hesitate to fire you after missing a few days. you'd even told him that your apartment burned down. he was insistent that punctuality was key. god you hated him.

𐙚 though, your hatred dulled in comparison to the pure rage ellie felt when you told her the news. she was absolutely appalled that someone could be so inhumane as to not give a damn that your home was now a pile of ash on some pavement. she begged you for his number, promising not to say anything bad. but you knew her better than that. you knew she'd call him insults that'd destroy his elderly pea brain. so, apologetically, you refused her his phone number.

𐙚 so, while ellie was away, you also browsed your laptop for open job opportunities near you.

𐙚 ellie said that she could talk miller into hiring you, but you weren't so sure the life of firefighting was for you. plus, you liked seeing ellie in her uniform without having to experience the obligations that come with it.

𐙚 when ellie got home from work every day, she'd be sweaty and gross and exhausted. she'd formed the habit of flopping down on the couch as soon as she gets home, but you've managed to rid her of that once you saw the grimy muck she'd left on the cushions. she's now learned to shower and change before getting on any furniture. honestly, she seems to like that habit more anyway. she refuses to admit it, but you can tell she enjoys the warm water relaxing her muscles and washing away her fatigue.

𐙚 amber also loved it there, alternating between cuddling up with you in ellie's bed or snuggling at ellie's feet on the couch.

𐙚 well, until the day you guys decided to sleep in the same bed.

𐙚 she had come home after a particularly taxing day at work — the first rescue she'd carried out since saving you. it was a single mother and two twin infants. one of the twins didn't make it, sending the mother into a grief ridden spiral. she was sobbing and angry and needed someone to blame. she ended up blaming ellie, the woman whose name she didn't even know. it was horrible. not that ellie could blame her for it. grief comes in every shape and form, and for this woman she just so happened to take the sharp end of the sword.

𐙚 ellie, being who she was, stayed relatively composed during the event itself. the woman banged on her chest as she wailed, shouting that she should have done more and she would have preferred to have burned.

𐙚 eventually, one of Ellie's coworkers dragged the woman away from her and ellie was excused to go home early.

𐙚 when she got back, she was absolutely distraught.

𐙚 you had just made a new recipe and were waiting in the kitchen for ellie to return with a bright grin on your face. but the moment she walked through the door, your smile shattered.

𐙚 her uniform was scorched and torn, her face lined with filth. and, oh, her expression was heart wrenching. her lips were parted, eyes blank as they stared at the floor. she trudged into the living space, shoulders trembling ever so slightly, and flopped down onto the sofa in a manner you hadn't seen her do in quite some time.

𐙚 you were quick to rush to her side, crouching down beside her as you asked what happened. in a shaky voice, she explained that she'd gotten a baby killed. the pure regret and guilt in her tone made your heart crumble a little in your chest.

𐙚 you moved to sit on the edge of the couch, pulling ellie into your arms as you held her. the feel of your body against hers was all it took for her to break down into tears.

𐙚 she tried her hardest to remain dignified, tears falling silently. but when you began to run your hands through her hair and mutter sweet words of consolations, her cries were less orderly as she clung to you and repeated over & over how it was all her fault.

𐙚 for the rest of that night, she was unable to leave your side. she made you sit on the toilet while she showered. then she made you stay in the bathroom while she changed (you turned around). then you two ate dinner together on the couch while watching a funny adult cartoon to cheer her up, your legs touching at all times.

𐙚 so, when it came time for bed, you'd have been cruel not to offer her the empty space beside you.

𐙚 to say she was excited would be an understatement.

𐙚 you guys laid in silence for a bit, comfortable in the company of the other. but then she spoke into the darkness, her tone thick with the weight of all she'd bore that day. she explained everything in more detail, telling you the story without the bias of her guilt.

𐙚 her voice cracked when she got to the boy's death, her voice pitching higher as she fought a second wave of tears.

𐙚 you shifted toward her, sheets rustling in the darkness. you felt around for her, hand eventually finding her body. you pulled her into a warm embrace, holding all of her vulnerability and grief in your two arms as she relaxed into you, melting against the foreign gentility.

𐙚 after that night, you guys started sharing the bed.

𐙚 amber loved it, of course. both her people in one space? absolute heaven for the elderly cat. some nights, she would curl up in the crook behind your knees & other times she'd find comfort atop ellie's face, causing her to wake coughing and hacking up balls of fur.

𐙚 your guys life was one of (much deserved) bliss and domestic comfort after a long period of difficulty.

𐙚 you had yet to do anything actually romantic. but sharing the home felt just as intimate as kissing would have been. though, you ought to admit, you definitely had your fair share of fantasies when it came to that.

𐙚 anyway!

𐙚 and all the while, you sought out a new place to stay

𐙚 you didn't want to move out of ellie's tiny cottage of a home, but you'd have felt horrible asking her to stay permanently when your relationship wasn't even a solidified thing just yet. and so, you searched the internet for worthy places to house you.

𐙚 ellie avoided the topic of you finding a new home, changing the subject whenever it came up & trying to distract you with something else whenever she saw you were looking at houses. you caught on to this, of course. but frankly, you found it endearing and just let it be. you didn't want to draw attention to her blatant distaste for you leaving, for fear that it'd embarrass her. so you feigned oblivion.

𐙚 ellie went with you to every open-house, claiming she just wanted to watch out for creepy realtors. however, whenever you seemed to genuinely like a house, ellie would find something to complain about to make you no longer want to buy it

𐙚 at first, you let it slide because you knew the two of you were beginning to form some kind of bond.

𐙚 but you eventually had to butt in when you spotted her paying off a realtor when they'd both thought you were checking out a different room. she apologized endlessly for it, but never gave an explanation until you practically forced it out of her, asking what the hell she thought she was doing.

𐙚 that's when it all unraveled.

𐙚 on the property of some random shabby house in an impoverished neighborhood, in a kitchen composed of rotted wood cabinets and peeling wallpaper and chipped floor tiles, ellie confessed her feelings for you. and it couldn't have been more perfect.

𐙚 the realtor had obviously left the scene beforehand, fleeing from shock when you'd walked in on him accepting a wad of cash from ellie.

𐙚 and there you stood, in the hollow house, her words of adorations echoing off the walls. her eyes were everywhere but your face, avoiding making eye contact with you. eventually, you'd grown sick of her rambling and just grabbed her by the cheeks and kissed her.

𐙚 it was a quick peck. a small pressing of lips, just to test the waters and silence her uncertainty. when you pulled back, her face still between your hands, her pupils were blown and her jaw was slackened. you laughed at her, a chuckle rumbling your chest.

𐙚 she gasps, offended by your judgement. but you couldn't stop laughing. she eventually reconnected your mouths, her turn to silence you.

𐙚 this kiss was far more passionate, her hands coming to rest on your hips as her tongue slid across your lower lip. you opened your mouth to allow her entry & she took it vehemently, tongue exploring the warmth of your mouth.

𐙚 from then on, you guys were inseparable in a whole new fashion. the moment you'd gotten home that day, she dragged your straight to the bedroom and memorized the curves and dips of your body with her tongue, giving so much care to your being that you were sure she'd eventually run out of love to give.

𐙚 your hands gripped the tufts of her hair as she buried her face between your legs and continued her memorization down there, your head thrown back in pleasure.

𐙚 you'd eventually lost count of how many rounds the two of you went, a thick layer of sweat clinging to your skin as she shyly asked if you had anything left in you. and of course, you could never deny her anything. you giggled before rolling over to tackle her to the bed, eyes full of nothing short of love.

𐙚 you two only stopped when pounding could be heard on the door.

𐙚 ellie rushed to pull her clothes back on as you did the same, her voice shouting at the visitor to just wait a damn second. though, when she opened the door, it was agnes.

𐙚 she pushed past ellie and went straight to you, though you were still pulling a shirt over your head.

𐙚 she beckoned the two of you to the living room, you and ellie both flushed and out of breath as you sat down across from her. every time you two made eye contact, you had to look away before you hopped right across that table and fucked her again.

𐙚 agnes made small talk for a little bit, asking you about work & whether you'd found another place to stay. though, when you shyly explained that you were planning to live with ellie, she scoffed loudly and said,

𐙚 "oh, finally! i was waiting for one of you to tell me. i'm not a fool, dear, i can tell you've been fucking like rabbits. just didn't know i'd have to force it outta you."

𐙚 from there on out, it was no longer awkward. she was herself again, making suggestive comments to you and passive aggressive ones to ellie. and when amber came up to her for cuddles, she stayed for another two hours just holding the cat.

𐙚 needless to say, you and ellie managed quite well. you have yourself the most perfect life you could ask for and all the family you could need (even if it's just agnes barging in on you guys whenever she pleases). honestly, you couldn't ask for anything else.

#vxsellie !#ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie willams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie x you #sequel #finally

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autonomyofadeer · 4 months ago

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sevika and her baby ✧.*

16+

plot: sevika stumbles upon a hidden gem inside the brothel. who is to deny her her fun after a long day?

tags: genderless, zaun au, fingering, cunnilingus, choking, ribbon tying, spanking, sevika x reader, fem bodied reader

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

it's currently 10:04 pm, the brothel has been slow today for some odd reason. people whisper about a brawl that happened between silco's men and some barkeep, but i pay no mind. babette suddenly knocks on the wall to my room.

"y/n? there's a customer here for you." babette tells you, a sly hint of hesitancy in her tone. why was babette nervous? there was no time to be thinking these dumb questions, i had a client.

"thank you ma'am." i reply hastily. i jump out of bed, slipping on my fox mask, orange with hints of gold lacing along the edges. i tighten my black and gold corset, pulling the strings to cinch my waist. lastly i slip on my heels and i lie on the bed waiting.

after a few minutes, loud footsteps could be heard from across the hall. until they stopped at your room. a metallic hand pulls aside the curtain. my eyes go wide. it was the all known sevika, the woman that men scattered in the streets from. the most well known and powerful woman in all of zaun was now in your room, wanting your time.

"so.. what's your name doll?" sevika says, the words dripping from her tongue like pure honey. she strides towards me until shes stopped at the foot of my bed.

my mouth seems to go dry, my tongue being stuck in my mouth and suddenly i no longer know what to say. i have to admit, i was frightened of her and of all the stories ive heard.

"hm? cat's got your tongue? too bad.. wish i could hear your beautiful voice." sevika replies to herself, cupping my chin in her hand as she slips off my mask. she runs her fingers over my lips as a prompt. i slack my jaw and she easily slips her fingers into my mouth. i circle her thumb with my tongue, suckling slightly on it.

"jus' like that doll." she murmurs to me as she presses her thumb flat on my tongue, causing me to gag.

"such a pretty thing" she says to me as she moves over to the table of toys. "too bad you'll be ruined once im done with you." she tells me as one last warning. she grabs a set of ribbon ties and a blindfold.

my eyes flutter at the items she picks up. "y/n." i stammer out, "my name is y/n" i tell her as she moves back to the bed. i move into the middle of the bed as she kneels at the edge of it.

"such a pretty name for a pretty lass like you, yeah?" she tells me, my face going a pale pink. she suddenly pulls my wrist, spinning me around and onto my stomach. my face was now shoved into the pillow. i try to ask what shes doing, but it's to no avail.

she ties the ribbon around my wrists, binding my arms behind my back. suddnely she pulls my head up by my hair, a pained grunt escapes my lips. a silk blindfold is slipped over my eyes. the world goes dark.

metal clanking can be heard behind me, suddenly im spun around onto my back. god i wish i could see what she looks like, i start to imagine her body.. toned abs? c or d cup? what scars does she have? and suddenly i feel a little too damp in my underwear.

sevika moves closer to me, my lower half now balanced on her thighs. a ripping sound of fabric is heard as my underwear is shredded with her knife. "just trust me, okay?" she whispers into my ear before a moan is ripped from my throat.

her fingers pinch and rub at my clit as moans slip from my lips. everything seemed heightened due to the blindfold. i needed more- i needed her. i move my hips up closer to her, whimpering for more.

"so needy" she mumbles before giving a small slap to my clit. a strangled moan escapes my mouth.

suddenly all friction is moved away for a few minutes until i feel her hot mouth on my peppled nipple. i arch my back, up and into her mouth. small and soft grunts come from her mouth, only spurring me on. after a while of abuse to my breasts, a sharp stretching pain takes control of my body.

she easily plunged 2 of her thick, warm fingers into my dampness. i wince at the pain, but it quickly subsides as she starts rubbing my clit with her other hand. i go to say something, but im quickly cut off as she curls her fingers up and into just the right spot.

my vision goes white for a hot second until i feel her dragging her fingers in and out of me. every few seconds she curls her fingers inside of me.

"please- shit- sev!" i quickly moan out as i start to feel my orgasm approach. i start to grind my hips against her fingers, my thighs clamping around her waist.

"jus' a little more. almost there." she reassures me as she quickens her pace.

sharp and loud moans are drawn from my lips as i feel hot liquid drip down my core, i squirted all over her shirt and pants. a soft moan can be heard from her lips.

i groan at the loss of sensation as she pulls her fingers out, i can hear her licking my juices off her fingers. the dip at the edge of the bed suddenly dissapears as she gets up.

a damp and cold cloth strokes against my clit, sending a jolt down my spine. "easy, im jus' cleaning you up." she coos to me.

next thing i know the binds on my arms are coming undone, falling down at my sides. i pull them to my stomach as i rub the leftover marks where the ribbon was. i take off my blindfold to thank her for her service, but the curtain was already shut. she had disapeared like most of my usual customers. three silver and a bronze coin lay at my desk.

i wonder if i'll ever see her again.

thank you for reading if you got this far! this is my first post, not sure if ill do more. just depends on if people like my writing!

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giamee · 2 years ago

Text

𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝟐 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄!

୨♡୧ pairings :: blade x reader ; sampo x reader ; gepard x reader ; dan heng x reader ; jing yuan x reader ; luocha x reader

୨♡୧ gia's notes :: writing this as a quick lil thing because i just finished school and i want to like,,, pay homage to the crushes ive had on my classmates LMAO this is so self indulgent i'm delulu... gonna miss seeing them in the hallways ,,, this one kinda mid i wrote it on my phone while half asleep AND ITS EXAM SEASON RAHHHHHH

୨♡୧ contains: modern!school!au, fem!reader sorry, most definitely ooc because these are based off of real people oops, just cute lil crushes man feel free to judge my taste in men !

𓆩♡𓆪 BLADE

-he's in your biology class, but not close enough to really get to talk to him

-you're not sure what to make of him, but you see him in the gym a few times when you're there as well

-his stony exterior, however, is shattered in your eyes when you enter the gym one day to find it empty other than just him in there, blasting his playlist out loud

-out of all of the possible genres he could he listening to, you weren't expecting a drill remix of anime osts

-you can't help the giggle that escapes your lips from what you're witnessing, and blade freezes upon hearing it before whipping his head round to face you like a deer in headlights

-he scrambles to turn it off as you set up at a squat rack, and it's almost endearing to see such a stoic classmate look so flustered

-you almost felt bad for the guy, and you hesitated before asking blade if he could spot for you

-and just like that, the ice was officially broken

-the two of you talked more frequently now, even becoming sort of friends through your shared class and the gym

-more frequent talks gave way to the more intimate aspects of blade's personality- as it turned out, he was quite touchy

-lingering touches when spotting you in the gym turned to his leg pressed against yours when you sit next to each other- leaning into your personal space a little too close to call it casual, and the bastard enjoyed the way you got flustered when his face got near to yours and the way that people looked at the pair of you and whispers, rumours, started to fly

-"if you keep sitting that close to me, people are going to think that we're dating," you huffed at him

-blade didn't even glance up from his phone that he was scrolling through with one hand, the other resting against the back of your chair

-"good." you were glad that he didn't look up to see the way that your eyes widened and you turned your head to the side to hide the giddy smile that was creeping onto your face

-and despite you enabling this, all the harmless flirting, there was some unquellable part of you that screamed to be set free and hoped for something more. that when he made you look him in the eyes with a finger under your chin, he wasn't just doing it to tease you

-there was undeniably something going on between the two of you, but there was also the unspoken mutual decision to not mention it

-and so you resigned your self to the realm of just friends. it would be easier this way, to move on without any ties before uni

-yet on the last day, you found him scrawling his phone number in your yearbook with a demand to stay in touch, and it left you looking down at the inked digits with the thing in your chest set free, telling you that your feelings might just be reciprocated

𓆩♡𓆪 SAMPO

-your deskmate in chemistry because of a stupid seating plan that didn't change the entire year

-you've never really spoken before, but he's well-known for being rowdy

-his friends sit nearby, and most of his conversations consisted of talking to them loudly while leaning across your desk, while you try to balance your chemical equations

-other than that, you keep to yourselves mostly

-it isn't until your chemistry teacher is going on a tiresome rant about the bohr effect that you shift your attention away from the board, your eyes instead focusing on sampo and the pen in his hands as he twirled it through his fingers effortlessly

-you nudged him slightly, pointing to his hand and mouthing at him "how do you do that?"

-sampo smirks, leaning in closer to you and keeping his voice at a low whisper to avoid alerting your chemistry teacher

-"so you hold the end like this..." sampo whispers to you, demonstrating with the end of his pen. you nod and try not to think about how small the pen looks compared to his fingers, fixing your grip

-"and then you hold it loose, and flick it around your thumb" sampo demonstrates it effortlessly, catching the pen in his hand and smiling at you

-you concentrate on your own, feeling his gaze against the side of your face instilling slight tremors in your hand

-you attempt the spin, watching as the pen teeters before falling and landing on your desk with a clatter

-you hear sampo snort beside you, and your teacher whips his head around and fixes the pair of you with a glare

-"am i interrupting something?" you and sampo both snapped your attention back towards your teacher as he looked at you both pointedly before continuing with his lecture

-you braved a peek at your deskmate, seeing the way his eyes were stubbornly facing forwards while a slight smirk adorned his face

-it became almost a ritual for you to attempt sampo's stupid pen trick each lesson

-it looked so simple, you didn't get how you were still struggling to do it, and your focus was pretty much anywhere except on the lesson

-sampo watched on in idle amusement at your frustration, sometimes demonstrating it to you again just to rub it in before getting elbowed by you

-besides him poking fun at you, there was also a sweeter side to sampo

-there was a day where you had forgotten to wear your contacts, and were effectively blind the entire day

-despite being nearer to the front, you couldn't even read the board when you squinted

-you ended up asking sampo to read what was on the board to you, and with an exaggerated sigh he did so, whispering the words to you in the same low voice that had the hairs on the back of your neck standing up

-"you owe me, you know," he told you jokingly, pointing at your homework

-you rolled your eyes, sliding it over to him

-"i don't know why you think that the answers will be right, but sure"

-"hey, at least you did the homework"

-uhhhh idrk how to end this SORRY

-you guys got along well and then the year finished and you weren't in the same class any more

-whenever you see him in the corridors you smile at each other though

𓆩♡𓆪 GEPARD

-he sits in the seat opposite from you in your english class

-you can't help zoning out when the lesson gets boring, and more often than not that results in you inadvertedly staring at gepard until you snap back to reality and realise that you've locked eyes with him, resulting in both of you hastily looking away with pink dusting both of your cheeks

-it's hard not to look at his handsome face, and your wandering eyes often get drawn to him against your will

-the sun hits his hair just right from the window behind him, and he looks like an angel with a halo when he's concentrating with a furrowed brow and taking notes about chaucer

-he's not too bad of a person to be sat across, in short

-you see gepard from time to time in the library, and by luck's draw, one of the only free seats in a particularly busy hour ends up being next to him

-he glances up when you place your books down, shooting you a quick smile before turning back to his own work

-you're about to put on your headphones and start revising, but you catch the faint melody of an ice spice song blasting from gepard, oblivious to the world

-it takes a lot of self control to not burst out laughing in the middle of the library, but you text this information to your friend instead while biting back a smile

-she responds after a few seconds with a link to gepard's spotify account, telling you to take a look through his playlists

-risking a glance at gepard, still heavily focusing on his work, you click on the link and begin to scroll through his account

-you find yourself growing more and more blown away by his music choice

-someone who was so serious and stoic didn't seem like the type to have one of the most insane tastes in music you've ever seen, but you liked it

-it offered you a more human side to his aloof self

-when you saw him start to subconsciously mouth the words in time with ice spice, though, that's when you snorted a little

-and when gepard looked up at you in confusion, you waved him off

-maybe you would try talk to him after class more

𓆩♡𓆪 DAN HENG

-although he doesn't share a lesson with you, dan heng actually takes the same bus to get home from school

-you have a tendency to oversleep in the mornings, so you've never had the opportunity to realise this as the buses you take arrive at school minutes before the bell

-and after school, you can leave as soon as lessons finish, and your differing timetables kept you apart as well

-but after a day at the library in school, you ended up getting a bus nearer to the end of the day rather than your usual time

-because of this, you found that most of the other students at your school were getting this first bus back, and a lot less of the seats were available

-you scanned the seats, searching for an empty spot when you got on, and you saw dan heng sat on his own, looking out the window with his earphones in

-you recognised him as a guy in your year and headed to where he sat, gripping your bag tighter for emotional support

-"could i sit here?" you spoke before realising that he probably couldn't hear you over the sound of his music, and you hesitated before tapping him on the shoulder

-his attention snapped to you before he shuffled slightly, leaving you with ample space to take a seat

-you didn't talk much, feeling self conscious of your feed as you scrolled through your phone next to dan heng, waiting for the stop where you would get your second bus

-you were lucky that you were sat closer to the aisle, and didn't have to make things more awkward by asking him to get up too

-you pressed the button to stop the bus, picking up your bag and getting off

-but to your surprise, as you looked behind you to check if it was clear to cross the road, you saw that dan heng had gotten off of the bus as well

-which wasn't too weird, really. there were plenty of other buses to take from here

-yet your suspicions were confirmed as you realised that you and dan heng were headed for the same bus, stopping in the same queue with him just behind you

-normally you would keep to yourself, but you must have been feeling extra talkative that day because you decide to strike up a conversation with him

-"so you take this bus as well?"

-dan heng nodded, taking out an earphone to better hear you as you both waited for the bus

-"yeah, in the morning too"

-"i'm guessing the early one? i always miss it because i sleep in"

-dan heng smiles and shrugs

-"maybe you should go to sleep earlier, then"

-"yeah, maybe"

-the pair of you talk a bit, and despite his appearance dan heng is actually quite fun to talk to, though he moreso tends to listen to you rant and occasionally provides some input, which seems to suit you both just fine

-come next morning, you found yourself waking up a little easier than usual, getting ready and leaving your house earlier than usual

-and as a result, you managed to catch the early bus

-you spotted his cropped dark hair almost as soon as you got on, and decided to sidle up to him again

-dan heng spotted you this time, though, and even offered you a smile as he pulled put his earphones as youvsat down next to him

-"so i'm guessing that you slept earlier, huh?"

-if it meant getting to talk to him more, you'd be in bed before it even got dark

-but he didn't have to know that

𓆩♡𓆪 JING YUAN

-he's that one guy in the year who's just universally loved, by teachers and students alike

-he's warm, he's studious, he's head boy, and he's practically everyone's friend

-it's not uncommon to see plenty of the girls in your year go up to him to try and flirt, and for others to look on in jealousy at their attempts

-and despite everyone's best efforts, jing yuan remained single

-as much as you didn't want to, you couldn't help but get a crush on him, just like every other girl in the year

-your heart beats out of your chest when you walk past him in the corridor and he gives you a smile and nod

-your knees feel weak when you see him in the library studying, his handsome face scrunched in concentration

-and though you may only be observing from afar, you're completely content with that

𓆩♡𓆪 LUOCHA

-luocha is a friend of yours that you made pretty recently

-there's a quiet charm to him that leaves you feeling at ease, and you've found it incredibly comforting to be in his presence when revising for exams

-even though he's a man of few words, he's managed to keep you as grounded as you can be during the stress of your last days of school before it's over

-it all came to an emotional headway at prom night

-you had been drinking a little, and with the night coming to an end the realisation that you wouldn't be seeing most of the people here again had you feeling teary eyed

-luocha found you on the dancefloor, pulling you towards him without a word and letting you just cling onto his suit as you both swayed in time to the slower song

-you let the soothing scent of him wash over you as you started to wind down at the end of the night, and you felt one of his gentle hands resting on your back as you began to wind your arms around his neck too

-"it was nice to know you," you mumbled to him, voice muffled by the material of his suit

-you felt luocha's grip on you tighten almost imperceptibly, a sign that he had heard you regardless

-"you can still know me" he murmured, and in your hazy state of mind you relaxed into him even further

-"that would be nice"

-as prom came to an end and after you had gotten over the air of finality, the pain from wearing your heels all night was beginning to kick in

-your car was parked a while away and while you did want to just go home, the prospect of taking another step was making you wince

-luocha was quick to notice your hesitance, and before you even said anything he was crouching down in front of you, telling you to "get on" which you gratefully did

-his warm hands wrapped securely around your thighs, supporting your weight as you told luocha where to go

-he made it to your car effortlessly, letting you down carefully and even opening your own car door for you

-you giggled at him being a gentleman as you got behind the wheel, smiling up at him with a bittersweet pang in your heart

-"thanks for everything, luocha"

-the man hesitated for a second, before returning your smile

-"any time"

-he ducked down, leaning in closer to you, and you felt yourself inhale sharply as he wrapped his arms around you, encasing you in a last embrace before you would part ways for the last time

-"keep in touch, okay?"

-"okay"

୨♡୧ honkai star rail masterlist

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tidalpooles · 19 days ago

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Been working on my personal project some more:

Wanted to work on reference for the team, for the millionth time. Although, this time, my creative fervor has settled enough for me to finish them. I'll post more about them soon. Also thought that I'd give a bit of a rundown of their setting.

Cael and Vic belong to a covert conservationist team that patrol the Sierra Oliva Mountains along the great country of Pinosverdes, looking for signs of eotl channeling creatures, artifacts, and ruins. It's their duty to protect all creatures, magical and non, from potential "discovery" and exploitation. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem, given that eotl hasn't flown freely through the biosphere since the dawn of civilization. Its existence and secrets have been all but lost to time, presently known only to a handful of people.

Eventually, an unprecedented resurgence of eotl across the globe brings in droves and droves of previously mythical creatures and cryptids. They scatter across the wildernesses, and present a significant threat to the safety of animal-kind. and the center of this disturbance is the daffy, fun-loving beast of teeth and fluff who they've decided to name Montel.

Their general dynamic, I feel is that of a jaded teacher, prodigal understudy, and the big impossibly loud bum that eats all their food, uses up all the hot water, and brings home pets every other week.

I've wracked my head trying to find the "perfect Montel", and in the process, have made several iterations of the same character that I really like. I eventually came to the conclusion that each Montel can be equally as valid, while still maintaining an up-to-date "prime" design, much like with Link, in the Legend of Zelda series. There is a modern, up-to-date Link, who people consider "how the character will look like from now on". But, people still enjoy earlier iterations of the character, and new games are always being made with these older designs in mind.

Montel Iterations as Zelda Games:

Gen I: Link's Adventure - Simple - the basis for all consecutive installations

Gen II: Wind Waker - Swirly - a little toonier

Gen III: Skyward Sword -calls back to the simpler, first installation - soft and cloudlike

Gen IV: Twilight Princess - Most distinct, odd-looking variation - Adds a handful of new characteristics

Gen V: Tears of the Kingdom - Most recent - References Skyward sword iteration a bunch

The Legend of Zelda is a major influence throughout my creative decisions, so it makes sense that I'd do it that way.

#myart #furry #furryart #anthro #oc #eoverse #earthsollin #montel #vic #cael #tzicchar beast #tidalpooles_art #tidalcosmos

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mxsticmayhxm · 1 month ago

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want a guy who gets into my head and rearranges it without me knowing. someone i really, genuinely trust, maybe someone ive known for years. when i need comfort, i go to him. he always knows the right things to say.

thats why id go to him if i ever broke up with a girl.

and im someone who likes touch— hed know that. im sitting on his bed while hes bent down, brushing my hair behind my ear. hes so sweet, it makes me emotional all over again.

“theres nothing to worry about anymore," he whispers in a low voice, soft on the ears. its easy to listen to, i cant help but lean closer. his hand rests on my cheek.

"im here, hun. you dont have to think about it." its quiet in his room, just the ticking of his alarm on his nightstand, rhythmic in its clicks. soothing to listen to paired with his voice.

"in fact, you dont have to think about anything," he says, staring into my eyes. my head tilts. "we can stay here for a while. you can just relax, i know its all stressful." i find myself nodding. "so, you dont have to think."

"i dont have to think?" he smiles encouragingly.

"thats right. no need to."

"sounds... kinda nice."

"it does, doesnt it?" his hand moves to trace small shapes and circles on my thigh, just barely grazing the surface. "not a care in the world, nothing weighing your mind down. like your mind is a clear blue sky; all the clouds just slip away."

"mmm," i nod again. see, he always knows what to say.

"and since you dont have any thoughts to focus on, all you need to focus on now is your breathing. slowing it down, keeping it deep." my breaths start to follow along, and my eyelids start to get heavy. he gives me another smile as he watches them flutter. "thats alright, you can close them. you could picture that clear blue sky. the warm sun on your skin, making your body and mind melt slowly, dripping down."

dripping down, melting, warm, it all sounded so nice. all i wanted was to follow his voice into that sun, let it... "...envelop me whole, taking away anything left weighing me down." i feel my head slowly fall toward his shoulder, landing in the crook of his neck. his arms wrap around me.

"no girls, no exes, nothing like that here. just you and me. everything else just slips from your mind like they werent even there to begin with."

like they werent even there to begin with.

~~~

i dont remember how long i stayed, but it was dark when i left. i came over the next day-- i had nothing better to do, i knew id just wallow in my room if i was given the chance. i felt like being with him would make me feel better, and next thing i knew, he was welcoming me in through the front door. he already had calm music playing in the background and warm tea set out for both of us. he sat me on the couch and passed over blankets to bundle myself up in before sitting down next to me. we talk for hours. the time just passes me by so quickly.

"i dont know why you only ever dated girls," he said, laughing a bit. i frowned.

"i... ive been a lesbian all my life. ive only ever wanted to date girls."

"well, sure, but nothings ever really lasted, has it?" im taken aback, straightening in my seat a bit.

"im sorry? does that matter?"

"relax." my back fell to the cushions again without thinking. "youve always been so much closer with guys. i dont want to assume anything, but you just get along better with men, isnt that right?” i stare at my mug, feeling his words sit in my mind for a moment. i guess he had a point.

“i guess. doesnt mean ive ever wanted to date them.”

“doesnt mean you arent compatible with them, though,” he grinned, taking a sip of his drink, before looking at you seriously. “i just want you to find the right person. there wasnt any love in your last relationship, you told me so.” i dont really know what hes talking about, but i dont know what to say, so i stay quiet. “i know you. i think a man would be able to love you much better than any girl could. arent you even the least bit curious?”

i couldnt help but admit that, after hearing him ask about it, i kind of was. i nodded.

“maybe after a bit. well see. i need some time.” he nodded and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.

“its okay, i get it.” he turned to the window, seeing how dark it was. “its pretty late, how about you just rest on the couch? its been an emotional few days. i could make breakfast in the morning.” my head was already lolling to the side at the idea.

“that sounds good. thank you,” i look into his eyes, “really, thank you. this all mean a lot, youre always there for me.”

there was a look in his eyes that i couldnt make out.

“exactly, hun. now,” he passes a pillow, “you rest, and ill wake you in the morning.”

as he left, he changed the music playing in the background to something slower, deeper. it seemed to worm its way into my head quickly. i fell asleep before i could even think about it, feeling him pull the blankets a bit tighter around me.

~~~

i ended up staying for a few days. i didnt know what id do if i left— its not like i had a girlfriend to run to anymore. so i rested at his home, even when he left for work. he always insisted.

“i promise im fine with it, hun,” hed say. “besides, im a good friend. what are good friends for?”

there wasnt much to remember about each day; they passed like syrup or molasses, and trying to think back on what happened felt like wading through the sticky mixture. when he went to work, i listened to the radio he had in the living room— he had a cd rack full of albums by people and bands id never heard of, but each track kept me more and more peaceful. when he came home, time was fluid. it didnt exist.

i was close with him before my breakup, and even closer now. ive found weve gotten closer physically as well, like somethings changed in our friendship. i hug him more, we half cuddle on the couch. ive even started holding his hand every so often. the touch, the connection between us just centers me so well.

his words, too. theyre soft. they find their way into my head and sink into my being somehow. i dont know what hed do without me.

were having a meal in the kitchen. i finished but just wanted to sit with him longer.

“gosh, how long has it been since your breakup?” he asks, bringing a fork to his lips.

i stop for a moment. i try to think. my breakup was…

i dont know. i dont know when my breakup was or how long ago. i dont even know what day or month it is.

“ah, doesnt matter,” he laughs. and suddenly, it didnt matter.

“have you thought more about it all? dating guys?” i played with my hands. i had. a lot.

and it was with him.

i dont know what it was. maybe it was the proximity, or the kindness, or the looks, or an amalgamation of all of it. but when i sat around all day, the only thing on my mind was him.

the warmth he brought when he sat next to me in our deep conversations at night. the soft touches. the smiles he would give me. just thinking about him now had me staring at his hands as he used his utensils. large hands, hands id like to hold, hands that could hold me tight, hands to undress me and suck on and use to—

“well, have you?” he says, breaking me out of my daydreaming.

“uhm. a little bit.”

“a little bit? no, youve been talking about it a lot more recently, isnt that right?”

i shook my head for a moment, trying handle the fuzzy sensation that flooded my brain. it was hard to remember what i was talking about now.

“i know i go on and on about dating guys now, but… i just want to wait for the right one to come along.”

“hmm,” he hums, nodding thoughtfully. “im sure youll find him soon. what kind of guy are you looking for?”

“i dont know, someone who really cares for my needs. when i dated women, they never really understood what i wanted. a man would know best about what i need in a relationship.”

his eyes gleamed at what i had said. i dont know what cued it, though. i was just being honest.

“tell me more.”

“dating men would just be much simpler for me. i cant love a woman, but i can serve a man.”

something didnt seem right, but the thought fell away into the pervasive fuzziness. his eyes looked so beautiful right now, all i could do was stare into them.

“thats right, you can serve a man. did you ever love women to begin with?”

i think back on all my ex girlfriends. i think of our intimacy, our dates, and i feel nothing. i think of what i could have, and all i feel is love for him.

“no. no, i never loved women. i could never be attracted to one. i…” my words drifted off. i was supposed to say something there. what was i supposed to say?

“youre straight, arent you, love?”

oh. that felt different. straight. i found myself starting to grin. straight, i… i was straight.

“im straight.”

“say it again for me.”

“im straight.”

“again.”

“im straight.”

“good,” he says, “good girl.”

my brain melts from my head. theres not much to think of past that.

#havent been able to stop thinking about hypno and corruption and manipulation sorryyyyyy #long post cause i reached 100 hashtag yay #mayhem’s posts #dyke conversion #dyke correction #dykebreaking #dyke breaking #lgetsd #orientation play #dykebreaking kink #asks open #dms open #corruption kink #mind corruption #mind conditioning

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artsninspo · 4 months ago

Text

FORGIVELESS - IV - YOU DON'T MIND SECOND FIDDLE, THAT'S WHY YOU A BITCH 🎻

« previous part

➨ rio's library - good girl nbc

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

IV - YOU DON'T MIND SECOND FIDDLE, THAT'S WHY YOU A BITCH 🎻

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Reader

Word Count: ~2.4K

Warning: Messy, mature themes & 🌶️ implied, a bit of a domestic situation.

Summary: The rendezvous with Rio continue causing James to spiral. only women are better cheaters. Rio proposes something outside of his previous boundaries. Japan is revealed while you get to keep your secret about Rio a little longer.

Sitting in front of the mirror pleased with your makeup you go over excuses in your head. You’ve set up the perfect situation. You’ve overheard James whispering and arguing on the phone. Japan’s been blowing his line up. You already know your husband is suspicious of you but everyday you care a little less. Your own indiscretions with Rio let you know how much work it is to be dishonest. Chasing the highs of being a well off young professional has your husband thinking too much of himself and now he’s paying with his eroding marriage. It’s Rio who’s been consistent for a man who doesn’t think he's the relationship type. Looking yourself, you smile, feeling sexy. It’s become a familiar feeling again with Rio. Heading downstairs you find James sitting on the couch which is a rarity for a Friday night. Usually he has some more important plans than spending time with you.

“Where are you going?” He asks.

“Friends bachelorette” you smile.

“Which friend?” he asks.

“Marlène from yoga, I was invited.” you tell him.

“Marlène” he says trying to register the name. “I can drive you there and pick you up” he offers.

“No need babe, I don’t drink” you remind him.

“How late?” he asks.

“Maybe 2 or 3 the latest” you tell him.

“Okay, maybe we should keep a calendar so we can keep up with each other's schedules. In case I want to surprise you” he suggests.

“Sure, I’ll see you in a bit” you smile waving.

“Hold up, we were invited to the wedding?” He asks standing as he makes his way over to you.

“I declined the invite. I know how busy you get.” You respond.

“Next time, ask me first. I love you and I want to do what it takes to make you happy. I know it’s been hard since the move but I’m here and I’m in this and I miss you.” He says. All it took was some distance for him to shape up and pay attention.

“Ok” you nod pecking his lips and when he deepens the kiss, it's all wrong. The passion isn’t there, or if it is it doesn’t mix well with his lies and betrayal. You’re relieved when he pulls away. Your heart isn’t racing, there's no tingles or butterflies. Your heart settles a little knowing the sun has set on your marriage. You force a smile heading out to the car. Standing there James is struck with panic, sure now more than ever he’s losing you.

Heading out you meet a new group of friends at one of Rio’s clubs. It’s a bachelorette party. You remember yours. You’d been too young to be considered someone’s wife and so excited to do whatever James asked of you. It’s bittersweet memories. Had you known then what you know now you wouldn't have walked down the aisle. A cheater, a liar, a coward and your husband. Mentally you decide to file the next time you have some free time or at least get the papers. Once the liquor starts flowing between the girls you call Rio as planned. The thrill is still there, it’s how you're making it through this tough time. Reclaiming your agency as a woman. Rejecting the treatment you once settled for. Doing James just as bad. It’s dark when Rio rolls up to the back entrance of his establishment. It's only been fifteen minutes since you made the call, he gets out his G-Wagon matching it in all black. His hands go into the pockets of his black denim jacket as he waits against the passenger door. You dont waste any time heading to him. His smile is the same as always as his eyes look you over in appreciation. Rio never misses the details. Stepping aside he opens the door helping you into the truck.

“You good?” He asks and you nod as he pulls off.

“You?” You ask.

“Mhm” he nods. The silence is comfortable and Rio keeps a hand on your thigh possessively as he drives to his place. You notice he’s not here with you and somewhere else in his thoughts when he passes the exit to his place.

“Rio, you missed the exit” you tell him.

“I’m taking you to my place” he mutters looking over at you. You swallow feeling the new reality between you has changed. You're no longer on quicksand, you're in it. You don't respond feeling comfortable with the decision. You place your hand over his on your thigh.

“I gotta go out of town for a few days,” he says, breaking the silence.

“How long is a few days” you ask.

“Three, I was hoping you could come with me,” Rio says, shocking you. It’s what had been on his mind. If he left it would give James the opportunity to slither his way back into your good graces and probably lead to a reconciliation. Something Rio didn't want to even entertain the possibility of for his own selfish reasons, among the principal of things.

“Come with you?” you ask.

“That’s what I said, what I fuck you so good you cant hear now?” he remarks and you hit him playfully.

“Shut up” you laugh.

“You coming or what?” he asks and you look him over.

“Where are you heading?” you ask.

“Mexico for my cousin's wedding. I have a plus one” Rio says casually.

“I would love to but with all I have going on it’s not the right time” you sigh.

Rio’s nostrils flare in frustration “So what?”

You sigh, “Rio, leaving the country to be your date looks bad.”

“Fuck everyone who would question you after you say he stepped out” Rio snaps.

“Rio you’re being unreasonable” you respond.

“What about me gives off reasonable?” he responds and you smile. He’s right from day one he’s been a handful.

“Rio” you start.

“Tell him whatever he needs to hear, then bring your ass to Mexico with me.” he demands like it's not even a question.

“You want me held up in your room like a sex slave for a few days” You scoff.

“Shit the roleplaying might get you off” he shrugs still upset that you aren't jumping up and down like most women. Rio doesn't like having to compete for your time with the ego of a man that doesnt deserve you even a little.

“You’re being an ass” you smile, rolling your eyes at him playfully. He comes in for a kiss and your phone rings. You look at the caller ID and see it’s James. Rio sighs and you follow suit. You let it ring out but he calls again. After the third ring Rio turns on his sound system to mimic the club before hitting the answer.

“James?” You say.

“What time are you getting home? It's after one” he says.

“I don’t know I’m having fun” you lie.

“I’ll come meet you” he offers.

“No, go out with your friends. Don’t wait up.” You shout.

“No, I miss you and I want to make love to my wife tonight.” The thought alone is off putting. When your eyes re-open from the disgusted shudder you find Rio watching you pissed.

“Sorry I can’t hear you, I’ll see you in a bit. Bye!” You shout hanging up.

“You’re gonna have to tell him you know,” Rio says.

“I’m not ready to play pretend with my family or his. It’ll take time away from you and I'm having fun.” You explain knowing how it’ll work. Women were expected to be distraught, hurt or psychotic after infidelity from their husbands. Your callously orchestrated revenge will be vilified and used as justification for his indiscretions in the beginning. You’ll be burned at the stake for not lying down and taking disrespect.

“Think he’s shitting himself now? When he knows you know and sees you riding around with me, me taking you out treating you right. Then what?” Rio says onto your lips kissing you. The thought of James getting his just due is desert for the both of you. Your moans are audible as his lips kiss you down your neck. His hands hold you there firmly.

“Are you listening?” He asks.

“Yes” you nod.

“Good” his voice softens his dark eyes holding yours.

“He doesn’t get to touch you, doesn’t get to sleep beside you, doesn’t get to see you undressed, nothing. His time’s up mama.” His words are slow and deliberate. He’s placed his claim. His possession is all in his eyes. “Handle it, Love, or I will” he warns, incapable of sharing. You don’t even make it to the bathroom. Rio has his way with you on the couch talking you through it. He fights for control over what he’s feeling and channels all his jealousy and possessiveness into making you feel good enough to want him. Enough to forget about the feelings of a man that did not consider yours or upkeep his vows. You spend the night christening his home and the morning is everything you hoped morning’s with James would be like in this new city. Slow and full of comfortable silences based on quality time. Rio typically did not talk too much, not needing to but today was different. He wanted to put an end to Jame’s hold on you. To James being a two timing fuck waling around like he owns the world. He wanted James to pay for blowing up your life. By the time you leave Rio’s place it’s 9am. That’s how little fucks you have left to give. You don’t expect James to be waiting at the house when you arrive but he’s sitting in the living room fuming mad. His eyes go to your rings first. When they are located he calms down just a touch.

“Where the fuck have you been!” He snaps through gritted teeth, standing and closing the distance and sniffing you like a dog. It’s how you should treat him.

“Don’t talk to me like that!” You shout triggered.

“You’re not walking out of this house again to go anywhere without me. Matter of fact, give me your phone!” He snaps grabbing your purse from your arm. He finds your phone unlocking it with Face ID and going through it. Instead of fighting him you go for his phone on the island knowing you’re in the clear. You search to find the messages have degraded into arguing instead of steamy exchanges. The blue flame between James and his mistress has faded into contention with him trying to be more present in his marriage. It’s against everything the mistress wants to hear. Little miss Japan is pulling out the stops. Her revised attempts at luring your husband away from you flip a switch. You clear the counter throwing two vases at him in succession. He fails to duck away from the first one hitting him in the chest. The other douses him with water before shattering on the ground.

“I should’ve known you were cheating!” you scream, snapping him out of his rage. Fear flashes in his expression. “All the accusations! Neglect, no sex, it was all here” you snap holding up his phone. Tears well as you release the secret you’ve been keeping in for the past few weeks. You send the phone flying at him too. The device hits him in the chest and you snatch yours from him. “That’s how you’d let some women speak about me and talk to you. You dirty low down fuck!” You add feeling your hands and face heat from the rage.

“Baby” he panics “It was a mistake.”

“Don’t call me baby, matter of fact don't call me anything! Don’t call me!” You cry getting your keys and heading out. “Japan, Japan, Japan, whole time Japan is a fucking woman that you’re seeing!” you continue your tirade.

“Y/N!” He snaps. “I’m sorry. I can explain, listen to me.” His words mean nothing and you keep on heading to your car. He grabs you violently.

“I said I’m sorry!” he asserts with a mixture of anger and panic.

“You are and I’m done with you” you pull away but he grabs you. You try to free yourself but he’s too strong. You struggle against him as you and him exchange unheard feelings at a high volume. He wins the struggle.

“I said I’m sorry! I made a mistake but I love you!” He shouts, shaking you and your heart races as you see all the threads you’ve been picking at are loose. You want to stick the nail in the coffin but you don't. Instead you look at him with all the hate you feel for the predicament his actions have created.

“I hate you and you’ll regret it I promise” you snap, turning to face him as you open the garage. Fear turns from panic to rage again at your threat. He grabs your arm unlike ever before. “Get out my face and let me go. Go be where you’ve been with her.” you snap pushing him off.

“Don’t walk away from me and don’t threaten me!” He snaps as you get to your car. Before you get in he grabs your hood, yanking you back.

“What’s going on here?” An officer interrupts. Just the way his eyes fall on you it’s clear he’s been sent by Rio. James steps back and you readjust your neckline.

“I’m trying to leave and he won’t let me” you speak frankly. You hear James gasp in shock at your betrayal.

“She’s my wife. Officer I just want to speak with her” James says. You look him over and see he’s all wet. It definitely looks like a domestic dispute.

“Do you want to speak with him?” the officer asks you.

“No” you respond and the officer opens your car door. You get in.

“Y/N!” James shouts.

“Keeping her here against her will with force is something I can charge you with” the officer informs your asshole soon to be ex-husband.

“It’s a marital disagreement,” James says, trying to turn on the charm. It doesn’t work on the officer who gives him a final glare before walking out with you.

“Stay put” he snaps at James. “Are you alright?” he asks and you nod, adjusting your sweater and clothes.

“Yes”

“Did he hit you?”

“No officer he didn’t” you confess honestly.

“Go see Rio” the cop whispers before closing the car door. You’re a little startled at how perceptive you are and pull out of the driveway to head to Rio’s place. You find him pissed and pacing. His eyes go to your stretched out collar but he keeps his thoughts to himself offering you comfort and a hug. He ignores his phone ringing and you ignore yours until James stops calling and it’s your mom. you already know. James is in damage control mode.

Thanks for reading my loves, theres more mess to come - I promise. Keep on, liking, commenting and sending over ideas. I hope those of you who send some in liked seeing them integrated in the story. What was your favorite part?

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icallhimjoey · 1 month ago

Note

eddie?! 👀 did you say EDDIE?!?! 👀👀👀👀

i DID say eddie! i had a tiny idea that fit the version of eddie ive written before (and the only version of eddie ive written before) and so... here we are. i am: so sorry. Wordcount: 6.6K

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Let’s Go Home

(find all other parts of this story here)

“Let’s go get him.”

You sound very determined for someone completely unsure of how to handle the situation. It’s difficult to watch someone so deeply unhappy struggle with parts of their past they can’t seem to get a grip on.

“I… what?” two wet, red-rimmed eyes stare back at you. Confused. A little annoyed.

“Yea. Come on. Let’s go. We’re packing our bags and we’re going to go pick him up and bring him back here.”

Eddie doesn’t get it. Frowns, entirely unsure of who you’re talking about.

“Steve’s already here… and Wayne is coming here for Christmas, we don’t need to–…” he looks so tired.

“I know we don’t need to.”

It always happened when the days got a little shorter. When the nights got colder and Christmas loomed. When happy, wholesome family moments would be advertised all over the world, and it all became glaringly obvious – once again – how that was something Eddie never got to be a part of when he was little. Not until Wayne took him in and tried his best to make the holidays special in his own way.

No matter how hard Wayne tried, though, the bitter aftertaste of abandonment and loneliness was impossible to get rid of.

Eddie would never admit this to Wayne, but celebrating Christmas just the two of them felt just as pathetic and lonely as it had done when he lived with his parents still.

Different.

Definitely not as traumatizing, which was good.

But still dreary, and sad, with a lot of playing pretend that he was okay and happy and fine.

He was never okay and happy and fine.

Still isn’t okay and happy and fine.

That’s not Wayne’s fault, Eddie knows, and he feels like a shitty person because Wayne always tried his best. Did what he could. It just never quite worked.

Christmas would roll around, and Eddie would get depressed.

That’s just what happened.

Eddie would slip into sadness, scary thoughts intruding happy places they weren’t allowed to settle into, but he’d not yet learnt how to tell them to fuck off. To leave him alone. Didn’t know how to get the uninvited guests out of his house, and felt powerless as he watched them settle into his living room. Nothing he could do about it.

Somber, pensive moments would slowly stretch until they covered most of the day. Mornings were the happiest, still. He’d wake up after falling asleep eventually, never managing to slip into dreams before 3 AM, and for a moment, he’d forget. The short amount of sleep would have him tired enough to not remember the reality of his life for a second, and in those moments, it would just be you in bed with him and that would be the only thing in existence.

It’s awful to feel reality set into someone’s body mid-hug.

You wish you knew how to keep it out.

Over the years Eddie had learnt he had to vocalize his feelings. His thoughts. Knew that a burden shared was a burden halved, but knowing things in theory didn’t make them easier in practice.

“What can I do? Let me help.” You’d whisper, and Eddie was lucky you’d known each other for so long. There were no worried questions of are you okay, or a concerned soft hey what’s wrong.

You know he’s not okay, and you know what’s wrong.

“You, here. That’s all you need to do.” Eddie would murmur and he’d pull you in to hold you for a short while. And sometimes, that would temporarily fix him.

There is part of Eddie that honestly thinks if he doesn’t think about it, that it’ll be okay.

If he ignores it for long enough, it might go away by itself.

He’s lucky that sometimes, it does.

He pretends that the foundation of shit that he’d been given for his life hasn’t got all the cracks in. The house he has tried to build on top might shake a bit in the wind, but he can convince himself that the strong support beams that have been put in place will make sure the whole thing doesn’t collapse.

But it’s getting closer and closer to Christmas, and he’s sinking deeper and deeper into everything that’s dark, and cold, and uncomfortable, and painful, and scary.

Everything is designed to make people feel happy around this time of year, and he’s in LA where the sun shines all year long and it doesn’t even really get cold at all. Not like it gets cold in Hawkins. The days don’t really get that much shorter, and he can go outside in a T-shirt and be fine. But maybe that’s precisely the problem right now; there’s no quick get inside the house, and no let me warm your hands up for you.

The comfort of a frozen nose that get nuzzled back to life is unattainable in LA.

“Can you go to another meeting? Would that help, do you think?” you silently ask him one evening, hidden under the covers and too tired to stay awake for much longer, even though you know Eddie’s wide awake next to you. He’ll toss and turn for a couple more hours after you’ve drifted off.

“Yea, of course. I should.” Eddie is quick to reply, but you know he doesn’t want to.

Talking about his addiction with strangers when he’s trying his best to pretend it’s not there will just make things worse, he thinks. Logically, he knows it probably won’t, but there’s always that fear.

“Can I join you?”

You feel how Eddie shifts in bed, probably to take a look at you, but your eyes are closed and you’re about to fall asleep. This isn’t the time to fall into a conversation in which he asks you why on earth you would want to hear a lot of people you don’t know talk about a lot of drastic measures you don’t need to know people let themselves be pushed to sometimes.

So instead, you feel a kiss press to your temple, and he whispers, “Sure you can.”

At first, Eddie doesn’t say much in the meeting you join him for. You mostly listen to issues other people bring forward, and try to think of things you’d do if Eddie was the person speaking. If he was the one with all of those problems. How would you help?

How would you fix it?

When a kind, soft-spoken voice asks if there’s anyone new who wants to share, a lot of eyes fall on you, and you shift in your seat. Sit up a little. Feel Eddie squeeze your hand in his which could have meant, it’s okay, you can tell people why you’re here, but instead it means, I got this.

Eddie talks.

Tells everyone about how he feels like he’s deep in a depression and that he doesn’t really know how to get out of the dark pit he’s fallen into.

How it feels like he’s five years old and stuck in a small dark room, and he’s feeling all over the walls but can’t locate the light switch, and the longer he’s looking, the more he starts feeling claustrophobic in there.

You make the mistake of asking him if he can call out for help.

“Have you tried asking? Maybe someone else can turn the light on for you…”

Eddie breaks down, elbows on his knees, face hidden from the group as he looks at the wooden floor boards through his tears.

It’s not your fault.

Eddie doesn’t expect you to understand the feeling of being so utterly helpless and alone that he knows there’s no use in even trying to call for help.

No one would’ve answered.

You scoot your seat closer to his, and lean into his side as you wrap an arm around his back, fingers curling around his shoulder. It’s nice. He needs it. He also knows there’s thirteen pairs of eyes on him and he doesn’t know how to tell you that no matter how hard you’ll try, you won’t be able to actually fix anything.

“Let me turn the light on. Let Steve, or let Wayne– Robin… we can all help turn the light on. We’ll fly Wayne out, Robin too, and anyone else that you want. They can all move in, we have the space for it. Just… please, let us turn the light on, Eddie…”

It’s the fucking sweetest thing he’s ever heard, but he can reach for the light himself now. He can find it in the dark, and he can turn it on. The problem is that it doesn’t make a fucking difference.

Turning a light on now doesn’t change anything about his past.

Eddie gets asked if he has anything more to share. He sniffs and wipes his face with both his hands before he sits up and leans back and says, “Thank you, but um, no. I don’t. It’s this time of year, I guess. I know it’ll pass.”

You hold hands, fingers intertwined, as you listen to everyone else share more of their own personal issues, and when you leave Eddie puts his arm around you and pulls you close to kiss the side of your face. He tells you that he loves you, that he’s glad that he came, and he thanks you for coming with him.

You can see in his eyes that none of it helped.

Eddie lets himself sink deeper and all you can really do is be there for him. Be there when he wakes up and be there when he goes to sleep. You give him the gift of routine. Of healthy meals. Of pleasant walks outside. Long showers after.

It helps.

But it doesn’t fix anything.

You try your best at damage control. Talk to Steve. Call Wayne a lot.

And it helps.

But about two weeks later, Eddie starts isolating.

He had never isolated before.

Not like this.

He’s in his home studio, hyperfocussing on four seconds of a song he’s working on, and when you interrupt to tell him you’re going to go to bed, he says he’ll come up in a minute. He just needs to figure this bit out. “I’m so close, I can taste it.” Eddie smiles a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, and for a moment you think Eddie’s going to let you listen to his work in progress. He always asks for your opinion, but this time he doesn’t. He just looks at you with a smile that’s just there for reassurance until you leave him alone.

At 5 AM you get woken up by Steve, who softly says, “You need to come downstairs…” and leads the way for you.

“I got up to pee, and the bathroom is right above the studio…”

You find Eddie in the exact same spot, going over the exact same four seconds of music.

He looks like he’s being tortured, barely able to keep his eyes open. When you gently pry the guitar from his hands, his breathing changes, and you think if he would have had the energy to sob, he would have cried like a child.

“Let’s go to bed, Eddie.”

Eddie lets you take him upstairs, but then locks himself in the bathroom and when you ask if he can let you in, all you can hear are soft sniffles whilst the shower runs.

It’s then that you decide.

Something is different this time around.

Something deeper has bubbled up, and you know whatever you are doing here, in LA, to help him simply will not be enough.

You establish a plan and pull out two suitcases that you place onto your bed. You’re going to pack your bags and you’re going to go get him.

It’s clearly necessary.

Eddie is no longer letting you comfort him and you’re scared that the next step is going to be a relapse.

“What are you doing?”

“Let’s go get him.”

“I–… what?”

Eddie hasn’t slept, and his unwashed hair is wet from the shower he’s sat in for a while, and you’re very calmly and methodically folding clothes into a suitcase. You might as well be speaking in a different language right now.

“Yea. Come on. Let’s go. We’re packing our bags and we’re going to go pick him up and bring him back here.”

Eddie slowly moves to sit down on the bed, and he looks at what you’re doing for a moment before he sighs and softly says, “Steve’s already here… and Wayne is coming here for Christmas, we don’t need to–…”

He stops speaking when he sees your slight smile.

“I know we don’t need to.” You say and Eddie doesn’t like how you look at him with so much care in your eyes. He doesn’t think he deserves it.

Doesn’t deserve you.

“Do you want to bring both of your black hoodies?” you then ask, not giving him a chance to question what’s happening, and so he just goes, “Yea… yea, sure.” before he lets himself fall backwards onto the mattress where he shuts his eyes.

You let Eddie sleep for as long as sleep will hold him. Pack up both suitcases and let Steve help you book travel back home.

“Do you want to come?” you ask when Steve is on the phone to a travel agent. He is listening to the woman who’s reading him back information he’s just given her, so he can’t answer you, but he reaches out and holds your hand whilst you listen to him book two tickets to Indiana.

When he gets off the phone he reaches for your other hand as well and says, “I’ll watch the house.”

You give him a slight frown. “You know he’d love you to come with us… Wayne says Hawkins is covered in snow. We could watch Christmas films in the trailer… get Robin and run across Lover’s Lake again… or, call Dustin and, I don’t know, Eddie could challenge him to a snow ball fight and they could play–”

“Dustin’s 26 years old.”

“Yea...” you frown at Steve. “So?” you sound desperate.

Steve huffs a laugh as he rubs his thumbs over your hands. He grimaces a little before he says, “No offense, but… he doesn’t need us out there. Of course you’ve got to go with him, but every other person is going to be one too many.”

And Steve’s right.

The next day, Steve joins you outside as you’re about to leave. He hugs Eddie for a long time by the trunk of the car, and you know they’re softly talking to each other. You can only see Eddie’s back, and Steve’s face is hidden by all of Eddie’s curls, but suddenly you can hear Eddie laugh before he pokes Steve in the side.

You get hugged next.

Eddie doesn’t sleep on the flight. Just stares out the window and gets lost in thought. You know he’s not entirely sure of why you’re taking him back to Hawkins, but he’s also not asked about it again.

When your rental car stops in front of Wayne’s trailer, you turn the engine off and sit in silence for a moment as you both just… look at it. It’s four in the afternoon, but it’s getting dark outside already.

Forest Hills.

A surprisingly large lot of land that holds about twenty-four sporadically placed trailers; some of them neatly lined up, others facing whichever way. Wayne’s trailer was one of those ones, placed diagonally to the road, surrounded by dry grass for most of the year which was now hidden by a thick layer of snow.

Momentarily, everything about the image that you’re looking at looks like it’s 1987. Maybe 1988. You can easily envision a younger version of yourself running up to that same front door, it swinging open before you could even get up the steps, Eddie bursting through just to throw you over his shoulder and haul you inside.

“We’re here...” you break the silence, stating the obvious, and find Eddie’s hand to squeeze.

It’s a little silly, but it looks like he’s scared.

“Did you tell him we were coming?”

“Wayne?”

Eddie turns to look at you, slightly confused because, yea who the fuck else?

“Yea. I called Wayne.”

You watch how Eddie takes a breath. Watch that information settle within him.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

And Eddie does. Doesn’t want to do anything without you, ever.

But he takes a shaky breath and says, “I’ll come get you in a second.” before he opens the door and gets out of the car.

Footsteps crunch in the snow, and you watch Eddie, hands in pockets, rush up the steps to what used to be the trailer that he lived in with his uncle. The trailer that he found home in when he was about seven years old and Wayne had decided that his bedroom could actually be Eddie’s bedroom instead for a while.

A while turned into fifteen years in the blink of an eye.

You watch Eddie hug Wayne through the window. It’s another long embrace, but this one doesn’t part with boyish grins and jabbing fingers. Instead, you can see how Eddie goes limp in Wayne’s arms a little, and when he goes to pull back, Wayne just… holds on.

Just a little longer.

It feels a little wrong to be watching them like this, chin perched on the steering wheel, fingers hidden in your sleeves. It feels especially invasive when you see how when they eventually part, the first thing both men do is bring their sleeves to their faces to dry what has become wet.

Then, Eddie steps away. Slowly walks towards the room that used to be his bedroom, and he goes alone.

Good, you think.

That’s good.

Wayne didn’t understand at first, when you told him over the phone. That you were coming over for a strange, but important visit. But this was good.

It takes a while.

Your fingers start to lose their feeling a little as you wait in the car, but it’s fine. You are not the priority right now.

When Eddie eventually emerges from the trailer, you get out of the car, and wait for him to call for you. A, come on. Come inside. It’s fucking freezing out here.

Instead, you get silence. Eddie doesn’t stop walking to wave you over.

He makes his way all the way over to where you’re stood next to the car, and then, he hesitates for a moment.

Eddie can’t look you in the eye.

“Everything okay?”

You know it’s not.

“He um…” Eddie starts, voice trembling. “He’s not here.”

“What?”

Eddie moves closer to place a kiss to your temple, eyes looking away, over the top of the car, across the trailer park. “He’s not here. I didn’t find him.”

Eddie steps around you and gets into the passenger seat, and for a moment, you stand with both shoes in slush whilst you try to think of what to do next. When you look back at the trailer, you catch Wayne through he window. Gives you a smile and a wave.

For a moment you contemplate running over, up those same steps, to ask what happened inside. Maybe Wayne has answers to questions you keep asking yourself.

Before you can, Eddie roars the engine back to life.

You give Wayne a wave back from where you’re stood and round the car to get into the passenger’s seat. You can talk to Wayne later.

Back inside the car, you put your seatbelt on and look at Eddie for a moment. He’s got one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the gearshift, and he’s biting his lip as he stares into space.

“If he’s not here…” you start pensively.

“It’s quite the drive.” Eddie answers, unmoving.

“We have the time.”

“I don’t think we’d make it back here before midnight.”

“Hey,”

Eddie turns his head to look at you.

“We have time.” You repeat yourself and place your hand on the back of his head where you softly scratch your fingers into his hair. “You good to drive?”

You don’t get an answer. Instead, Eddie puts the car in reverse and starts backing out. Just before he’s about to fully leave Forest Hills Trailer Park, he stops the car, even though there’s no traffic to wait for.

“I can drive if you want me to–”

“N-no, that’s not it. I can drive, but I…”

Eddie stares. Looks at his hands and just sits in silence, going through it. Then suddenly, he takes his seatbelt off, opens his door and quickly says, “I’ll be right back.” and he runs.

Left in a car with a running engine and a wide open door, you turn in your seat to watch Eddie’s breath leave him in white clouds as he runs back to the trailer, back up the steps, back inside. You’re too far away to see in the windows now.

It only takes a minute.

When he comes back, jogs down those steps in the snow, he looks a little lighter somehow. Like running back towards the car is a little easier.

Eddie gets back in the car, and he’s all loud inhales and rough exhales, hands rubbing together because it’s cold and he just ran through the snow, but then he looks at you as he puts on his seatbelt and he smiles.

There’s tears in his eyes, but he’s smiling.

“Had to tell him it’s okay. That I’m okay.”

Somehow, Eddie is beaming and solemn at the same time, but you’re happy that something has changed a little. That he seems to get it. You sink into your seat a bit more when Eddie pulls onto the road and starts heading south.

Eddie told you once, years ago, that he used to live in a motel before he came to Hawkins. How that’s all his parents could afford, and even then, they were always fighting with the front desk about money. Always late on payments.

It was just one big room, and even though it was just him, his mother and sometimes his dad, there were always people in their room. Strangers. Friends, his mother would tell him. Sometimes she’d even tell him, this is your Uncle Frank, and Eddie would be forced to shake the hand of a man he had never seen before and would never see again.

Eddie spent a lot of his early childhood confused.

He spent a lot of his childhood hiding.

Afraid.

Alone.

He wouldn’t ever trust anyone. People told him one thing and then they would laugh together and they would do something else.

Adults were evil, and yet the world was made so that adults were the ones that had to look after him. That made the decisions. That told him, go play outside, even if rain was coming down hard, and Eddie would have no other choice but to listen. To do as he was told.

He was only a little kid.

When Eddie was seven years old, he got kicked out of the room at eight in the morning and got told to not come back until they were ‘ready for him’.

Like he knew what that meant.

No one had told him how to tell time.

Eddie didn’t go to school.

But he knew that being sent outside meant that he had to go find his own entertainment for a while, and so he did.

Eddie was seven years old when he came back around lunch time with skinned knees and grass stains in his shorts, and there was commotion.

Lots of people.

People in uniforms.

A cop car.

A kind woman who asked him if he had lost his way. If she could help him get home. Eddie had just smiled and said, no thanks, and had tried to hide in the spot where he always hid. Adults were not to be trusted, Eddie knew. No matter how kind they looked.

Eddie was seven years old when he got pulled from his safe space, his little hiding spot, kicking and screaming, and got brought over to Wayne’s trailer. He’d never been back to that motel room again. Had never even gotten close.

The sun has fully set by the time you pull up outside of an old, run down motel that looks like it should’ve been torn down ages ago. Most windows are boarded up, paint on the walls is chipping and what used to be a light-up sign has been torn down.

It’s a dump.

Just trying to imagine someone growing up here has you choking up.

Little four-year-old Eddie running around these grounds? In dirty clothes too big for his body because nobody was feeding him right? Being exposed to things no child should ever be exposed to, simply because his bedroom was also the only room they had?

Before you can let it make you cry, you hear a faint chuckle beside you.

It’s small and weak, but it’s a chuckle none the less.

“I remember this place much bigger,” he says, like it’s funny. “There’s only like… seven rooms.” Eddie counts.

You’re momentarily unsure if coming here was a good idea. If facing this reality of his past is going to be doing him any good. If it won’t just break him down even more. But then Eddie turns to look at you and says, “Come, let me show you.”

Eddie visiting the place where he spent the first few years of his life turns into him giving you a surprisingly pleasant tour of the grounds. He recounts the other people that lived there, the rooms he wasn’t allowed into. How there used to be a soda machine here, and how sometimes the older kids would ask him to get them some cans for free, because his arms were small and skinny enough to just sneak them out the bottom.

It’s easy to skim the surface of this place like this.

To make it about showing you around instead of sinking down past the layers of self-protection that would have him walking around here with wobbly legs.

Yea.

This is easier. Better.

All of the doors are locked, but it doesn’t take much more than a good shove of a shoulder for the locks to give way. For the wood of the doorframes to splinter.

“Entering the Forest Hills way.” Eddie grins, and you suppress a smile. It’s a lie. Forest Hills is full of all honest, all hard-working people. But, it’s still a trailer park, and thus, the joke is funny.

Without much care, Eddie easily manages to open every door he comes across. It’s dark everywhere you go, none of the lights work, but the streetlights out front provide you with plenty of it, and your eyes quickly adjust.

Eddie shows you the laundry. Breaks into a little back office. A supply closet. Some other motel rooms - some that had semi-permanent guests staying there too, just like he used to be one. And some that would have overnight guests that didn’t know about the draft that would make the door slam so hard, you’d lose your fingers if they got caught in between.

It’s almost joyful, how Eddie talks about his memories. He hasn’t got many, he was so young, but every time he comes across something he remembers, he seems pleasantly surprised at his brain’s ability to bring it all back to him.

But then, when you eventually stop outside room number five, he pauses.

Stops.

Stares at the doorknob.

You can feel how his entire demeanor changes, and even though it’s painful to witness, you know that this is why you came here. This is the whole reason you drove all the way out here.

Eddie takes a good, deep breath but doesn’t move otherwise. Just keeps his eyes locked on a rusty old doorknob to a locked door of a room that probably looks exactly like all the other ones Eddie had already shown you.

“Is this where you lived?” you ask, doing your best to make your voice sound as neutral as possible. You don’t want to scare him off. Don’t want to trigger something.

Eddie nods, a barely-there up and down movement of his head, and then he goes for the doorhandle, rattles it weakly.

Keeps staring at it.

“Door’s locked.” He croaks, like that had been a problem for any of the other doors.

But it does make sense.

You understand that the person who opened up all those other doors was Eddie in his thirties, showing you around.

The person staring at the doorknob now, was Eddie as a child.

Afraid to go inside, unsure of what he was going to find there.

Not strong enough.

Maybe only just tall enough to even reach.

But, you were strong.

You had witnessed how a little force had gone a long way with these locks, and after giving Eddie a second to maybe ask for help, because God, you really wanted him to realize he could just ask for help, he doesn’t ask for shit, and you decide to take matters into your own hands.

Before Eddie even registers you taking a few steps back to get a running start, the wood of the door has already split from the blow of your shoulder.

“Oh my G–” Eddie jumps, both arms reaching out to grab at you and to pull you close. He makes sure he holds you where you ran into the door, large palm cupping over the curve of your shoulder, and he rubs the skin there. Which helps, because, you’re not really hiding the fact that Jesus fuck that fucking hurt very well.

Despite the sting, there’s a moment where you both see the humor in what just happened, and looking at each other, you both let huffs of laughter escape you.

“Are you crazy? What you do that for, huh?” Eddie pretend scolds.

You shrug, “Forest Hills way.”

The comedic relief is so welcome, but it’s short-lived. You see from up close how Eddie’s expression drops. He goes from looking at his insane girlfriend with all the love he’s got for her spilling from his eyes, to looking over your head into the dark room where he used to live, and it all slips away.

You wait by the door.

Want Eddie to do this alone because you think it’ll be better that way.

You also truly don’t know what to do, so it feels a little safer to just… wait outside. You wouldn’t know how to help anyway.

Just like when you were outside of Wayne’s trailer, it feels a little invasive to look at Eddie as he silently takes slow steps inside and looks around. At the same time, you can’t really look away. If he’s going to break down and fall to his knees, you want to be there within a second to pick him back up.

Eddie trails slow fingers along a dresser.

Takes careful steps towards a nightstand of which he opens and then closes the drawer.

“Huh…” he comments. Looks around the full room again, sees it in different light as he stands in another corner, the lights from outside showing him different parts of the room.

He disappears into the bathroom for a moment before he steps back out, and he looks… confused.

Surprised, maybe. A little dumbfounded.

He gives the room another glance, and then turns to find you watching him in silence.

“This is really weird,” Eddie comments, both eyebrows raised.

“Yea? How so?”

“I don’t know… it’s different. It’s not like I remember. I think… I don’t know, I think my mind made this room the most terrible place ever in the world, but it’s just… it’s just a room. There’s nothing…” Eddie twirls on the spot, “Yea, it’s just a room. Nothing’s… nothing is scary.”

You swallow audibly, and hesitate before you speak.

“It’s not scary.” Eddie concludes again before you can say anything, and he raises both shoulders at you in a long shrug, like he’s trying to convince you that it’s all right.

You’re not the one who needs convincing though.

“Is, um…” you start, and you clear your throat, entirely unsure of how Eddie is going to react to your question.

After visiting Wayne, you think he gets it now.

He gets why you took him back to Indiana.

Eddie has let his eyes fall on a weird piece of wall art he doesn’t remember, something that maybe they added to the room after his parents had been kicked out, and he’d been taken away to go live somewhere safer.

“Is he here?”

“Huh?”

“Is he in here, somewhere?”

It takes a moment of Eddie looking at you before he fully registers what you’re talking about.

His gaze drifts towards the closet next to the bathroom door.

It’s shut. Both bifold doors closed.

Eddie stalls for a moment, and then he raises an arm to open one of the doors before he drops it by his side again.

The closet’s empty.

It seemingly comes from nowhere, the way your lips suddenly quiver. How your eyes well up with tears so quickly. You have to cover your mouth with your hand to remain silent; this isn’t about you.

Eddie is slowly taking it all in, looks around the inside of the closet. The stains in the carpet. The peeling wallpaper. The mismatched hangers, a couple plastic ones amongst a couple more wire ones. And then he looks up and finds the the little yellowed piece of string that hangs down from way up high.

He reaches up and pulls it.

An audible click is heard.

Nothing changes though.

No light springs on.

Eddie pulls it again. Softly smiles. Pulls it a couple more times.

Click, click.

Nothing happens.

You’re about to burst with a violent sob when you see how Eddie, entirely in his own thoughts, inside of his own memories, slowly steps into the closet and closes the door behind him.

You hear the clicking of the light a couple more times, and need to step away.

It’s too much.

The visuals of a tiny little malnourished Eddie hiding in a closet unable to reach the string of the light in there is going to make you hyperventilate if you’re not careful, so you have to take a walk.

It’s fucking freezing but hot tears trail down your cheeks as you hurry back to your rental car.

It doesn’t take much longer for Eddie to step outside, leaving the place where he spent the first few years of his life. His long legs carry him over to you quickly.

You can tell that he’s holding back sobs until he’s close enough to crash himself into you.

Arms wrap so tightly, they almost hurt. Bodies wrack with silent sobs until deep breaths calm the both of you down.

It takes a good while.

Eddie is first to pull back, and whilst cupping your face, both his thumbs wiping underneath your eyes in a bid to rid you of your tears, he manages to squeak, “Found him.”

“Yea?” you ask wetly. Hopeful.

This is why you came out here.

To find the small version of Eddie who, even as a toddler, knew that calling out for help was a waste of time because the calls would go unanswered.

To take him home.

“Turned on the–” Eddie throat closes up before he can even say it.

“Turned on the light for him?” you finish for him, and he just nods as he presses his lips together to keep them from wobbling.

Eddie goes in for another hug, hides his face in the side of your neck and grounds himself there.

You can feel how he’s actively trying to steady his own breathing.

It works, eventually.

“Did you…” you start, still holding him, but falter for a moment.

“Did I what?” Eddie asks, sniffing loudly, pulling back after you nudge your nose into his hair.

“Did you take him with you?”

It’s such a silly question. Eddie can’t help the smile that carefully plays at the corner of his mouth, and his eyebrows scrunch up as he looks down at you. He can dissect the question that pops up in the back of his brain for the fourth time today another time. How can he even begin to figure out why he deserves someone like you in his life?

“I did.” He confirms, and you let the breath you were holding escape you in a shudder.

He doesn’t think he deserves you.

“Good.” you smile, and maybe things are starting to look up, a little. Maybe the universe is slowly starting to make amends with Eddie. Is starting to apologize for all the shit it put little Eddie through in this godforsaken place no one should spend more than a single night at.

“Let’s take him home then.”

Eddie cries.

Thought he was done, but he’s not.

He lets you press kisses to the skin just underneath his eyes as he closes them.

He lets you open the car door and help him into the passenger’s seat.

Lets you drive all the way back to Wayne’s whilst he cries, because this is the second time little Eddie makes this trip, from the motel to Forest Hills. But this time he’s not scared.

He knows he’s going to go to a better place.

A safer place.

To a person who will try his very best hand at proper damage control. Who’s got a nice trailer, and a room that will get turned into his own bedroom three days into his stay.

To a person who will join Eddie in the closet for those first few nights. Who will just bring him food in there, have their dinner hidden away together, and who won’t force him out.

Who will play silly games with him in there, until the trips to the bathroom feel safe enough to do on his own.

There’s never other people in the trailer.

Just them.

Safe.

Eddie cries as he remembers more. Thought he had forgotten almost everything, but he remembers so much. He can’t talk about anything yet. Not now. His voice won’t let him. But that’s okay. You’ve got the radio on and need to focus on the road, and you’re taking him back to Wayne, and all he really wants to do is sleep.

And you just drive, and hold Eddie’s hand as he clings to you, and this is good.

It’s good.

Little Eddie deserves the fucking world.

You think so.

And you know of a handful of people who would wholeheartedly agree.

Slowly, you think Eddie might start to understand where you’re coming from.

He was never okay and happy and fine.

Still isn’t okay and happy and fine.

But the light has been switched on.

There’s light now.

He might one day be okay and happy and fine, and that’s something that before today was the most difficult thing to grasp.

“We’re taking you home, kiddo. I got you.” Eddie whispers, soft enough so only he can hear it over the engine and the music coming from the radio.

“Let’s go home.”

---

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mysterystarz · 10 months ago

Text

kiss me maybe:

summary: finding a flier for the volleyball's kissing booth was surprising for two reasons. a) kuroo had created one of the worst fliers known to mankind and b) oikawa tooru, the school's resident pretty boy was capitalizing off the rumors surrounding him. still, you couldn't deny your attraction to the setter, and he couldn't hide that you were the only one he wanted to kiss

pairing: oikawa tooru x g!n reader

word count: 12.6k (please give this a chance)

genres + themes: college!au, sort of friends to lovers(?), fluff, angst, kuroo being an occasional menace, iwaizumi being the sexiest friend you can have, kiyoko being an icon, romanticized college experience, oikawa being an idiot but yours

warnings: cursing, a tad suggestive in some parts, absolutely not proofread

a/n: hi there i am back with a long fic. anyways this thing is my lovechild and probs the most fanfic thing ive written. its really just a fluff monster (lol) and i hope you give this a chance <3 also dedicated to @chimielie because her stuff gave me the inspo to write ily lia thank you for being so talented

It was said that Oikawa Tooru’s kisses were mythical.

Some claimed that one press of lips from the kingly setter was like a hit of a drug, sudden in a way that sent you reeling.

To some, his kisses tasted like the finest candy, hand served on an ornate dish.

Most magically, it was claimed that a kiss from Oikawa Tooru could heal even the most broken of hearts. Just one thread through sun bronzed hair could make you forget about the most painful memories.

And of course, like any celebrity would, he knew about each and every rumor.

Naturally, you reckoned you were bound to see the dreaded flier sooner or later. It sat there still, taped onto the tiny bulletin board outside of the Organic Chemistry I room. It was the worst godawful flier you’d ever seen in your life. In front of you was a myriad of colorful borders, and even more whimsical fonts atop of a cardstock page. It seemed to call out to you with its boldness, as if to say “kiss me” with its scrawling typography.

Mystic Kissbooth, it read in an infuriatingly ornate font. Come and kiss your woes away (and kiss ours away too – a mutually beneficial fundraiser!)

“I see you’ve seen our handiwork,” chuckled a voice. You didn’t have to turn around to recognize Kuroo, who simply leaned against the bulletin board in an attempt to catch your expression.

Not that he would. You weren’t going to give him that luxury.

“No wonder it’s such shit,” you laughed, gesturing to the list of names at the bottom, “I’m honestly ashamed to even know you.”

“Hey,” he frowned playfully, ruffling your hair as he began his signature large strides. Curse him and his stupidly long legs. “That was heavily inspired by your Canva templates…..you know….the bad ones.”

You let out a long and dragged out sigh while you followed your best friend (unfortunately) to one of the secluded benches on campus. Beneath the hustle and bustle of students as they sprinted to class, it was almost peaceful to rest your legs for just a moment.

Relaxing onto the bench, you placed your backpack at your side, creating a wedge between you and Kuroo, who’d taken the seat right next to you. He didn’t seem to mind, simply casting a grin in your direction.

For starters, you weren’t sure how to feel about the Canva invasion. Yes, it was a design platform, and yes, you’d tried (and failed sometimes) to create infographics whenever Kuroo needed a helping hand. It was just a tad surprising to discover that Kuroo had drawn his inspiration from your least successful works.

“What’s this whole thing about?” You decided on asking after a lengthy pause. Kuroo cast his gaze to meet your own, his grin almost glued into place.

“Well, not that we’re in any trouble, but the volleyball club could use some funds. We’ve been trying to set up some pretty competitive matches and practice games, but we need the fuel to do it. Oikawa thought this was a great way to make use of all the attention we have.”

“No wonder. He’s probably the most popular one on the team….though Iwaizumi is honestly the one to be looking at.”

“Rude,” Kuroo huffed, “There’s a lot of other people to be interested in, you know.”

“Hopefully you don’t mean yourself,” you chuckled, dodging a playful hit on the arm from Kuroo. “But in all seriousness, a kissing booth?” Kuroo paused for a moment, seemingly mulling over a proper response, when Iwaizumi entered your frame of vision.

There were times you wondered why Iwaizumi Hajime didn’t consider a career in modeling. From where he stood, the sunlight almost seemed to caress his skin, tanned and sun bronzed from a summer spent playing volleyball on the beach. Upon seeing you and Kuroo on the bench, he extended a quick wave before jogging over, arms flexing as he got closer.

“Stop ogling him,” Kuroo smirked, “You could stand to be a bit less obvious.” “Shut up,” you muttered just as Iwaizumi ended his jog to stand in front of you.

“Nice to see you here,” he beamed, his eyes meeting your own, “I barely see you around these days. Did Kuroo scare you away from the club?” “No not at all,” you smiled, moving your backpack to make space for the handsome spiker. Some of the students on the nearby path stopped to turn at the three of you, and Iwaizumi, none-the-wiser, took a swig from his water bottle.

He was never aware of the effect he had on people. That was exactly what contributed to his charm.

“Y/N wanted to know a bit more about the booth,” Kuroo started. “I think you’d explain it better than I could.”

Iwaizumi raised a brow, “It’s just a club fundraiser. I mean, it's the only decent idea that Oikawa’s had in a while.”

“So he really was involved, huh.” You said (more to yourself than anyone else). The two men looked at you confusedly, before Kuroo finally spoke.

“You know, you always seem to get a bit fidgety whenever someone mentions Oikawa. And you always try to be away from him when you come to our practices…were the two of you involved or something? Because if you were, I am honestly offended you didn’t tell me.”

You aggressively shook your head no, warranting a chuckle from Iwaizumi. “Well, if they were, I think it’s had an impact. You start to see him for who he really is.”

The three of you laughed, choosing to enjoy the fresh breeze.

However, even despite the simple beauty of this moment, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about the booth.

Oikawa stood at the front of the lecture hall, spinning his pen while meeting the eyes of his teammates. At his side was Kuroo’s flier, whimsically colorful in all the ways a magical kissing booth (like this one) was supposed to be. Iwaizumi sat in the front, close enough for Oikawa to catch the teasingly judgy stares of his best friend while he waited for everyone to settle down.

Finding a free lecture hall had been no problem. All he’d had to do is smile nicely at a few eager students, verify with a few professors, and send a frantic “MEET NOW” to the club group chat.

The real problem was convincing the rest of the team of this idea in the first place.

“Hey guys,” he beamed, putting the flier down on the desk closest to him, “Thanks for showing up on such short notice. You guys are the best.”

“We didn’t come for you,” Makki snickered. “We’re just here to see what crazy justification you have for this.” “Well,” he began, “We’ve been in the spotlight for quite some time now. A lot of us have been featured in the campus newspaper, we’ve made it onto our university’s podcast, and have you even seen the instagram fanpages for us? They’re absolutely insane. So, what better time to take advantage of this?”

“And this has nothing to do at all with the rumors?” A voice asked. Oikawa turned to meet the eyes of Semi Eita, who sat on the left corner closest to the door.

The team laughed as Oikawa shook his head in faux denial. “Absolutely not. Why would I ever do such a thing?”

“Because you're smart!” Oikawa was almost surprised to hear the remark from Bokuto, who sat near Kuroo with his own flier. “And it’s a lot of fun.”

The team murmured their respective agreements before the room fell silent again. Oikawa, ever the opportunist, slid into the silence with an explanation.

“I was thinking we set it up as sort of a de-stress day after midterms. We could get the other clubs to join in their own mini fundraisers…like a carnival of sorts. We’ll set up the booth with colorful signs and posters, and we kiss based on the cash. We can take shifts to make sure the two of us aren’t running the whole show. All proceeds are for our matches and practice games. Sounds good?” “A question. Are you going to make people line up to kiss you?” Matsukawa asked casually.

“You mean us Mattsun. And yeah, a line works just fine.” Oikawa stopped for a moment to admire the unanimous cooperation of his team. “I’ll talk to the other club leaders and see if we can come up with a date. If that’s all the questions you’ve got, I’ll see you at practice tomorrow!”

With this, his team filed out the door. He caught Kuroo animatedly discussing a design to attract customers to their booth with Bokuto, mentioning that he had a friend who’d know just what to do about it. In the midst of his rant, he’d mentioned a name.

Yours. A name he hadn’t realized he missed hearing.

A faint smile crept onto his face at the thought.

Kuroo was a menace. From the minute he’d found you at the library, he’d been nagging you the entire day, practically begging for you to come to their practice.

“Y/N please,” he whined, attempting his own version of a pout, “If you see us, you could help design the poster to attract customers.” “I don’t think you need help with that.” That much was true. Especially with Oikawa headlining the event. They were guaranteed strong profits.

Somehow in the midst of all this pleading, you’d ended up right outside the gym. The sounds of volleyballs hitting the wooden floors resonated off the walls, the sound so clear that you could hear it from your spot near the door.

“You planned this,” you glared, watching Kuroo’s smile twist into one of faux innocence. Bastard.

“What can I say? I am the master of distraction.” He opened the door, swapping his shoes out at the front and walking into the gym to the greetings of his team. You followed closely behind him, carefully striding across the polished wood and shutting the door behind you.

The gym had always been grand. Your university’s colors were plastered onto the bleachers, with a wide curtain separating the different sides of the gym. There was space – so much of it – and the team spread out to practice various skills.

For a brief moment, you allowed yourself the childish awe of standing in a space so big.

“I forgot how long it’s been since you’ve been here,” a voice greeted, “But it’s good to see you Y/N.” You knew that voice. You’d know that voice like the moon knew the stars. You’d know it anywhere.

“Oikawa,” you said, turning to acknowledge the brown-haired setter. “Long time no see.”

As much as you didn’t want to, you drank him in. He seemed to be in high spirits this afternoon, hair artfully tousled in the way he always did, and lips so perfectly smooth that they seemed out of a Chapstick ad.

“You don’t really come around anymore,” He said, taking to walking with you around the gym (much to your own surprise). “I was getting a bit worried actually.”

“What do you mean?” You stared at a spot a bit beyond the setter, watching Bokuto’s cross court spike slam into the floor with dizzying speed.

“Well….we talked a bunch. And you came here at the beginning of the year. You suddenly stopped though….so I wondered if something happened.”

“You noticed?” You scoffed. “I’m surprised you paid attention.”

“Why wouldn’t I pay attention?” Oikawa raised a brow in confusion before suddenly, the answer seemed to smack him in the face. “You’re petty about that?”

“You barely paid me any mind,” was all you said, meeting Oikawa’s warm gaze, “It was like we’d never met at all.”

You’d met Oikawa Tooru on the flight to university. You’d waved your family goodbye at the gate, hugging them tight to your chest and memorizing the feel of them against you.

You walked steadily, pulling your suitcase along as you made your way to the security check in.

“Everything goes in a bag! Belts, shoes, phones! Take off your shoes and step aside. Laptops can stay in your bags! Move along!”

You hauled your suitcase into the bin, placed your phone and wallet beside it and sent it over to the TSA associate, taking a minute to place your jacket and shoes into another bin and sending that over too.

The gray bins were plain, old and rackety and classic, comparable to a washed out 1930’s movie. You trodded through the metal detector, feeling the cold floor through your socks.

When you finally made it through check in, you were met with a TSA associate over your bag, looking straight at you as if you’d committed some heinous crime.

“Excuse me,” the TSA officer asked, gesturing to your bags, “Are these your bags?”

“Yes,” you affirmed, almost nervously. “Is there an issue?”

“You seem to have some liquid above the restricted amount. I’m going to have to take a look.”

For a moment, you were startled. What did you even bring? You’d diligently packed your belongings and made sure everything was secure….surely there had to be some mistake.

Your breath wavered the minute the officer pulled out your favorite body wash.

In the midst of your packing, you’d forgotten you’d slipped it into your carry on.

“Oh.” Your voice shook as you meant the TSA officer’s eyes, “I’m sorry. That’s my favorite one.”

“I’m sorry.” For a moment, it almost seemed like the man had sympathy for you, “But I’m going to have to ask you to pour half of it out. If you refuse that, you’re going to have to give it away.”

Every step towards the outside garbage felt like a punch to the chest. While you kept composed on the outside, pouring away half of your prized wash felt miserable.

A dying rose. A dying star. Something dying slowly and surely inside.

Now you’d have to get another one. Brand new packaging lost to your honest mistake.

This sucked ass.

You meandered through the security area again, more ghost than person and collected the rest of your belongings. While your voice wavered, you didn’t shed a tear, and simply walked along.

Somehow, in the midst of all your wandering, you ended up in the departure lounge. In front of you were an array of connected seats with their generic cushioning and the customary TV screens telling you what flight was taking off when.

The glass paneled windows to your right showcased the hangar, and from your spot, you could see planes parked out in front. The sun set down in the distance, leaving a watercolor blend of pinks and oranges in its wake.

You could almost call it picturesque.

You leaned your suitcase against a wall for a moment, scanning the lounge for an available corner. Unfortunately, your plane was packed.

The chatter of students was overwhelming, and without a choice, you settled into a seat at the far corner of the lounge next to a pretty-boy who you were certain wouldn't speak to you.

They normally never did. Why should it be any different now? And honestly, you didn’t want to talk.

“This plane is probably fully booked.” A voice (the perfect blend of warm and deep) said. You turned to meet the eyes of said pretty boy, a surprisingly lovely shade of brown. Light and bright and inviting. Almost like a mocha. Or a latte.

“Tell me about it,” you laughed, slightly amused by the novelty of the situation. It wasn’t common for pretty boys to talk to you. Even less common for you to entertain any conversation, especially when you felt the way you did. “When I waved ‘goodbye’ to my family, I wasn’t expecting this much of a crowd to tell them about.”

“Yeah?” Oikawa smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting upwards invitingly. “I was more surprised at the lack of seats.”

“You’d think they’d anticipate a college student stampede.”

Oikawa laughed, the amusement lighting up his whole face. It was a simple laugh — chiming and lovely in the way that all laughs were, but you were certain you’d do anything to hear that again.

His presence had a way of putting you at ease.

The two of you coincidentally had seats right next to each other on the flight. As the plane lifted off, you snapped a picture of the city lights, twinkling their tiny goodbyes as they faded from view.

The cabin’s lights were dimmed, yet even in the haziness, you could make out the features of the boy next to you.

High cheekbones. A defined cupid’s bow. Lips that seemed even softer than the lather of that soap you loved so much.

You’d mourn your soap later. Even if it was an object, your attachment to it simply showed a care for your belongings.

What could be more human than that?

Oikawa turned to you, gaze friendly as the plane began its mounting ascent.

“You know, the TSA can be real dicks sometimes.”

What the fuck. Who was he? A psychic?

“What did they do to you?”

“They made me pour out half my expensive hair gel. I insisted it fit the requirements but they refused to accommodate me. So mean.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the pout he wore. It seemed even someone as vivacious as Oikawa couldn’t charm himself out of aviation regulations.

Somehow the whole thing made you feel a lot better.

You and Oikawa (Tooru as he later insisted) shared many conversations throughout the flight. Some revolved around human existentialism (with him quoting the “we were infinite” from The Perks of Being a Wallflower). Some revolved around space.

Some even revolved around clubs, with him sharing high school volleyball stories and pledging your university’s team to greatness.

When fatigue finally claimed you, the comfort of his shoulder was unmatched by anything you’d ever felt. He’d extended an invite for you to come and see them practice anytime, and laid his own head atop of yours.

Of course, when you showed up for said practice, so had a bunch of other fans. He’d barely spared you a glance, let alone spoke to you when you’d tried to seek him out.

A grand gym and an even grander boy.

You just avoided him after that.

“Im really sorry about that,” Oikawa said. While his expressions were genuine, you weren’t sure how much you were going to trust it. Certainly, in all the time you’d spent apart, he must have changed at least a bit.

To think he was the exact same boy who you met on the plane would be foolish.

“Yeah, water under the bridge.”

“No, not really.” Oikawa paused to study your expression. Beneath all of your nonchalance was something fragile. Admiration? Loathing? He doubted it. “How long did you plan on avoiding me?”

“As long as I needed to.” You answered matter-of-factly. “Then again, that was when I thought you’d forgotten about me.”

“How could I ever do that?” Oikawa’s expression morphed into a worried one, eyebrows knitted together and mouth downturned as if to say damn that’s an accusation.

“Well-“

“Look I meant to seek you out after that day. I saw you there, wanted to come over, but at that point you’d gone off to continue chatting with Kuroo and met Iwa. And classes exist.”

“Okay. Water under the bridge for real.”

His eyes lit up. “You mean it?”

You nodded in approval, only to be dragged away by Kuroo, who’d suddenly appeared behind you.

“What the fuck?” You yelled, not caring much for your use of profanities. Some of the nearby team members snickered as you were pulled to the corner of the gym, in front of an array of poster boards.

“What?” Kuroo asked, “You and Oikawa seem to be fine now, so I thought I could ask you some questions about stuff that really matters. Namely posters.”

You were met with various shapes and sizes of poster boards. Some were Elmers Tri-Folds. Some were the cheap foam boards you sometimes saw while grocery shopping.

“If you want a design for your freaking booth,” you began, looking at Kuroo, “Give me some time.”

Oikawa was in the podcast studio. The room was secluded, plastered with posters and heart decals of all shapes and colors. Right beside the door was a framed picture of the volleyball team, with their silly faces frozen in motion.

Shimizu Kiyoko walked out from behind the desk, nonchalantly acknowledging Oikawa with a nod. “Oikawa, what can I do for you?”

“Hey,” he winked, unaffected by her lack of reaction, “Have any idea where I can find your host. I’d like her to do me a favor.”

“Advertising.” Kiyoko said bluntly. “I don’t think your booth needs any more attention. Our socials have covered it already.”

“We always love the extra coverage.”

“Doesn’t your friend help with all the designs? I think they’d be the perfect candidate to help with all this.”

“Y/N?” He asked, almost dumbfounded by how obvious that answer was.

“Yes,” Kiyoko smiled. “They’re very nice. I’ve seen you talk a few times, though it honestly seems like they don’t like you very much.”

“Not true.” He huffed.

“Well it makes sense. Especially if the rumors are true.”

People saw Kiyoko’s beauty and shyness and mistook her for a soft and innocent podcast manager.

Anyone who’d dealt with her enough knew she was actually a force to be reckoned with.

“The rumors are whatever you make of them. I’m simply an opportunist.”

Kiyoko chuckled and for a moment, Oikawa felt accomplished. “You don’t need to tell me this. I already know.”

He leaned against the door, and stretched out his arms in front of him before resting them at his sides again. “Would you at least consider telling the main host to help us out?”

Kiyoko shuffled the papers in her hands, before meeting his eyes. “I won’t give any guarantees, but something tells me that if you do set up a de-stress carnival, your club will be the central focus of our broadcast.”

“Thank you!” He beamed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest. “I could kiss you for that.”

“No thank you,” Kiyoko declined, “I’m not interested in confirming the rumors.”

As Oikawa left the studio, Kiyoko walked into the recording room, a tiny smile on her lips.

Your Canva page lay woefully blank before you.

You’d promised Kuroo a design if he gave you time and Kuroo, ever the considerate friend, actually stopped bothering you about the poster. He seemed to trust in Oikawa’s judgment, and it seemed that the rest of the volleyball club did too.

As a token of thanks, you’d come to the library, your brain and Pinterest providing you at least a vague idea of what it was you wanted to do. However, when it came time to put pen to paper (or more fittingly, hand to mousepad), it seemed that your ideas had been wiped clean.

Your disappointment felt like a leaky faucet. Despite the minuteness of the feeling, it seemed to pool the more you thought about the situation. While designing was never an obligation, you owed it to your friends.

You sighed, placing your bag onto the hardwood library table and casting your eyes outside. A slowly setting sun was what greeted you, a medley of pinks and oranges appearing onto a slowly disappearing blue sky.

How cliche. Considering one's disappointments next to a sunset.

“Y/N?” A voice called, almost saccharine in the silence of your surroundings.

And there he was. Draped in the setting sun like a painted figure, cloaked in a veil of sunlight that skimmed his skin like silk. Oikawa’s eyes were almost honey colored in that lighting, and beneath the darkened shelves, he was almost a mystical apparition.

“Oikawa,” was all you said, cursing every possible force for him appearing now, looking like that, when you barely had anything to show for it.

“Kuroo told me you’d offered to help us put together some signs for the de-stress carnival.” Oikawa walked over, stepping away from the sunlight and placing his bag down at your table, opting for a seat across from you. “Which, in case you were wondering, I got approval for. A lot of the other clubs are going to be there.”

“That’s good.” You allowed yourself a glance at him. Your pettiness had all but dissipated, but you were still wary of looking at him for too long. He was like the sun, golden and lustrous and magnetic. You weren’t quite ready to be pulled into his orbit.

“So,” Oikawa said, taking a glance at your computer screen, “Rough designing?”

“Yeah. Inspiration has been hard to find and your club is counting on me.”

“If it means anything to you, we wouldn’t have asked for you to do it if we didn’t believe in you.” You looked up to see Oikawa’s gaze set firmly on your own, as if tracking your expressions. Under his stare, you felt raw. Vulnerable. If you were a cake, and he was cutting you open.

You weren’t sure what to say.

A beat of silence permeated the space between you, and the two of you made no effort to stop it. It was somewhat comforting. Unsaid words of yours were understood by him.

“It feels like a lot of pressure,” you finally admitted, letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “I want it to be worth your while.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Oikawa was closer. His breath was soft, fanning over the side of your cheek like a secret.

“I’m not sure.” Your voice was nothing more than a whisper.

Oikawa paused for a moment, as if contemplating something before decisively placing his hand on top of yours.

For a moment, you were startled by the warmth of his palm, grounding you in some way that didn’t quite make sense to you yet. Something about this was intimate in all the ways it shouldn’t be. Amidst a darkening sky and a slowly dimming library, you could almost consider this clandestine.

You waited for the rustle of a book’s pages or the resounding footsteps of the librarian to break down the moment, but they never came.

Oikawa looked at you, seemingly memorizing your features. He said nothing, but a slight smile appeared on his face the second he spotted a stray lock of hair by your ear. You could feel your face progressively heating with every moment spent in this proximity.

Damn celebrity setters. Damn stupid stupid beautiful men who do this. Damn that Oikawa Tooru.

Gently, as if touching something fragile, Oikawa smoothed down your hair, brushing the tip of your ear with his fingertips. He held your gaze fondly before suddenly, making an incredulous face.

“What the-“ He said, looking at your hair again. “It’s back up again.” He looked at his hands in horror, as if their magic didn’t work. “Damn it, that’s not how that goes.”

You couldn’t stop the laughter from erupting out of you at his antics, You swiftly flattened that pesky strand and looked back at him, feeling the amusement pool in your chest at his dismayed expression.

“Sorry man,” you laughed, syllables coming out breathless, “Sometimes stuff doesn’t go to plan.”

Oikawa seemed like he wanted to melt into the floor, and feeling the need for some fresh air, you dragged him out of the library. Upon leaving the double doors (and air conditioning), you were met by the lit sidewalk and found the wooden benches by the line of trees.

You sat down, gesturing for him to join you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this one before,” Oikawa mentioned off-handedly, “I mean I’m here a lot, but I’m not sure when this was put here.”

“It’s been here…?”

Oikawa sighed, tilting his gaze to the now dark sky. “You do have an eye for good things.”

You raised a brow. “What does that even mean?”

“The stuff you make is adorable. And Kuroo’s always said that everywhere he brings us are all places you found.”

“Really?” You leaned your upper body onto the bench. “I didn’t expect credit from him.”

“He cares about you,” Oikawa said. “He gave a lot of shit when he realized that we’d talked on our plane and then not again. But I deserved that.”

“I was petty. But it’s not like I can actually walk up to you.”

“What?” Oikawa seemed puzzled, as if this was something impossible for him to fathom. “Why not? I don’t think I’m that bad.”

“Iwaizumi says otherwise.”

“Mean. But seriously, why?”

You’d forgotten how refreshing Oikawa was. Even though you were sitting on a bench, you felt practically weightless.

“Rumors,” was all you said, gesturing to him.

Understanding seemed to flash into his eyes, and slowly, like connecting pieces of a puzzle, it all fell into place. He paused for a moment before meeting your eyes with a grin.

“You know they’re just rumors right?” He smirked, “I went to a party a while back to kick off club season. There was this one girl who really wasn’t leaving me alone, so I ended up leaving. Turns out she’d told her friends that she and I made out at the party and gave me a whole lot more credit than I was expecting. Not that I mind making out, but I’m picky.”

“Picky how?” You asked, words leaving your mouth before you even had the chance to think them over.

“Picky as in there’s really only one person I’ve even wanted to kiss since I got here but haven’t got the chance to. I’m hoping they come to the booth. Just so I’ll get to know what that’s like.”

You felt a subtle twist of something in your chest, though you weren’t sure what to make of it. Of course he had his eye on somebody. It was bound to happen eventually.

“Why are you making a booth to do mass kissing then?” A valid follow up question. A guy like him could successfully pull whenever he wanted to.

“Because I’m an opportunist,” he sighed, “And I’m not even sure if I can make a move properly. I don’t function like I normally do when they’re around.”

“Of course you can. Anybody would say yes to you, Tooru.”

With this, something in him seemed to snap and he immediately pulled you closer, your faces just an inch apart. His hands were firm around your waist, and the sensation was nearly searing. You could feel everything, from his hands to his breath to even the way his eyes seemed to scan your face.

The way he looked at you now was like worship.

“What are you doing?” You whispered shakily. With him all around you you could barely breathe, let alone think.

“Making a move.” His eyes were on your lips. His hand gently left your waist to skim your arm before placing a hand on your cheek. “May I?”

Your nod was nearly imperceptible before he captured your lips in yours.

Soft, was your first thought as you felt his lips brush yours ever so lightly. You leaned into him, relishing the vaguely sweet taste of strawberry Chapstick on his lips as you swiped your tongue over his lips.

Oikawa Tooru was a mystic. His fingers tangled in your hair and his lips searched for yours as if he was a lost man and you were his savior. He traced the curve of your waist and kissed you passionately, nibbling your lips when you pulled at his shirt.

You could kiss him forever. You moved to nip at the tip of his ear, and his shaky breath had you considering if you should bite down harder. He pulled you back in and you melted into the feel of his lips and hands and the way his touch seemed to awaken something inside you.

The way he held you was reverent.

When you finally split for air, Oikawa held you close, his smile never wavering. He rubbed a thumb across your cheek, and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“That was magical,” you murmured into his shirt, and you couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit happy to hear the laugh you liked so much.

You reckoned you’d be able to put together a solid design after tonight.

Oikawa had a skip in his step the following morning. He’d aced every assessment, finished all his homework, and made major breakthroughs at practice. His sets to Bokuto were so flawless that Bokuto could hardly believe he’d made those shots.

Everyone on the volleyball team was certain that something had happened, but Oikawa refused to let up.

He didn’t kiss and tell after all.

“What is up with you?” Iwaizumi asked good-naturedly, tipping back a water bottle. “You’ve been in a surprisingly good mood all morning.”

“It’s been a good day,” Oikawa smiled, offering no other details while picking up a few stray balls on the court. The gym floor seemed exceptionally shiny today. He’d be sure to thank whoever waxed the floor for their services when he could.

“Something definitely happened.” Kuroo chimed in, scrutinizing Oikawa like he was something under a microscope. “The question is what.”

“Am I not allowed to have good days?”

“No you are,” Kuroo smirked, “But a day this good only happens after a sudden surge in popularity which —last time I checked— didn’t happen, or……did you make some breakthrough?”

“With my sets, yes.”

“No,” Kuroo smiled knowingly. “I’m gonna curse them out for not telling me anything.”

Oikawa hid his surprise with a flash of indifference, though internally he cursed the middle blocker. It seemed that he was just as good at reading people as he was at read blocking.

Iwaizumi caught on almost immediately, casting his eyes to his longtime friend, who all of a sudden, was acting like a deer in headlights. He found it odd that the nature of your relationship with Oikawa had transformed seemingly overnight.

It seemed that you never truly harbored any resentment against him.

Still, he resolved to approach you about it as soon as he could.

The minute that you walked through the gym’s double doors, the entire team thought that they’d summoned you with all the prying they were doing. You hauled something large through the door and placed it against the wall, proud of yourself for the herculean effort it took to bring it through.

The minute he registered your presence, Oikawa’s face looked like a puff of cotton candy. His cheeks were rosy with all the teasing and the memories of last night, and when he saw what it was that you’d leaned against the wall, he thought he should run over and kiss you out of pride.

“Good morning guys,” you beamed, a smile so radiant that Oikawa had suddenly lost all the focus he’d had all morning.

“Morning Y/N,” Iwaizumi greeted, walking over to greet you with a hug and a slight gesture to the object that was now leaning against the wall. “Is this it?”

You nodded excitedly. “I got the inspiration to put it together last night. I think it captures the magic of the booth.”

Iwaizumi leaned to flip over the posterboard and decided that he’d never seen anything more fitting in his entire life.

The sign was a pastel wonder, a pale blue at the bottom and moving to a light pink at the top. Across the poster were small and light volleyballs, somewhat transparent against the background as if the pattern was a part of it. The borders of the poster were filled with various lip prints (and even funnier, some hidden Chapsticks).

The font at the center was a far cry from the scrawling archaic font that Kuroo had used on their initial flyers. It was a simple block font, a shade of pink with a glow filter and a pattern that made it look like a light-up sign on the part that really mattered.

The Volleyball Club presents, the poster read, written in a smaller font. Right below that, the light up letters spelled out The Mystic Kissbooth. Help kiss us to greatness.

The team crowded around the board, marveling at both its quality and its thoughtfulness.

“Y/N….” Bokuto trailed off, his eyes nearly bursting with amazement, “This is crazy!”

“Yeah,” Semi added, “This is ridiculously good. Kuroo, where the hell have you been keeping them.”

Kuroo simply crossed his arms and smiled with pride. He’d always believed in you.

Oikawa stood shell-shocked at your work, feeling all the days of preparation finally coming together. He looked at you and smiled a smile so genuine, you were glad you’d finally pulled through.

You looked to the floor bashfully for a moment before meeting the team’s eyes with renewed confidence. “Thank you. I’m glad to help.”

Iwaizumi stood at your side, smiling fondly at you before turning his gaze to Oikawa. “Hey. Oikawa. What is the deal with the de-stress carnival? When is it, where is it, and where are we setting up?”

Oikawa, still elated, looked around the gym at the team. “If you want details, I think we should call another meeting.”

”That is a great idea,” you chimed in.

“Wanna join?” Oikawa asked (hopefully).

”I’m sorry, I don’t think I can. I’ve got a date with Kiyoko.”

The team went silent. “You have a what?!”

The evening hues only made Kiyoko more beautiful. She was dressed casually, wearing classic blue jeans, a tank top, and a cardigan that only accentuated her figure. When she saw you approaching her, a smile appeared on her face instantaneously.

“Y/N!” She greeted, “It’s good to see you.”

You jogged up to her and pulled her into a friendly hug. “It’s good to see you too!”

You and Kiyoko fell into step naturally, opting to have dinner at one of your favorite places outside of campus. It was a quick walk from where you’d chosen to meet up, and in such good weather, it was a crime not to spend more time together.

“I have a lot to tell you about,” Kiyoko began, “Starting with Oikawa Tooru. He showed up in my room and asked for the host. He’s got to know it’s me right?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I know you use a modulator to stay under wraps so people take the podcast seriously, but he’s had a very good track record for being perceptive.”

“That’s a pain” she sighed, “I hope he’s not going to spread it around.”

“He won’t,” you assured her, “Oikawa can understand rumors better than anyone.”

Kiyoko smiled relievedly, though she raised a brow at the mention of rumors. “Are those true?”

You fought the heat that seemed to emerge onto your face the minute she mentioned that. You just hoped it would go unnoticed by her.

Her blue eyes, unfortunately, were just as perceptive as they were pretty.

She smirked, crossing her arms and stopping on the sidewalk path. “When did that happen?”

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s keep walking.” You wish your voice had come out more strongly than a murmur.

“When?”

“Last night.” Damn Kiyoko for getting answers out of you.

“And…?” She raised her brows expectantly.

“Rumors are baseless but I confirm them. He is magical.”

“I ought to say something about that,” she giggled, and you wanted to bury yourself into your hands to avoid her teasing.

“Shush.”

The two of you had a lovely dinner and opted to grab a quick drink from the speciality beverage store next door. Kiyoko grabbed a strawberry milkshake and you opted for a tropical fruit floater that they’d just created. Thanks to Kiyoko, both drinks were on the house.

She nursed the straw between her lips and took a drag of her milkshake before meeting your eyes. “I have some information on the de-stress carnival.”

You urged her to continue, and Kiyoko did.

“Looks like Oikawa and the other members of clubs decided to officially name it the Cool Down Carnival. They’re just going to refer to it as Cool Down for ease. They’re planning to organize it the Saturday after midterms and they’ve been working on concessions like cotton candy, caramel apples, popcorn, and a whole boatload of stuff. Administration is also totally fine with this.”

“Wow,” was all you could say as a response. You were honestly impressed with Oikawa. He put so much thought and care into a silly rumor that had transformed into one of the school’s biggest upcoming events. He was an alchemist of opportunities, taking a rumor of lead and transforming it to gold.

“Yeah,” Kiyoko nodded, “I’ll get social media to cover it for me. So far, nobody doubts that I’m the manager of the ‘Cast, so it should be fairly reasonable for me to do.”

“Out of curiosity, do you know anything about how they’re planning to do the shifts of the booth?”

“All I know for certain is that Oikawa said he probably wasn’t gonna do a headlining shift…or a shift at all. A lot of the other members were perfectly fine with taking this on, but there has been some backlash.”

He was planning on not headlining the booth?

Your heart was suddenly very warm and fuzzy in your chest.

Kiyoko knowingly smiled at you before tipping at the front register and dragging you outside. The breeze was oddly pleasant, something a bit uncommon for this time of year. It was approaching colder weather, but it felt nearly spring-like.

“The weather isn’t making sense,” you said, enjoying the feeling of freedom that came with nighttime out.

“It hasn’t been making sense,” Kiyoko smiled, “We’re anticipating a fresh fair.”

Springs and falls blended together. You found a beautiful leaf on the sidewalk and pressed it to your palm, preserving the feel and look in your memory.

“I’m looking forward to it,” you’d finally tell Kiyoko as you parted ways, meaning each and every word.

When Oikawa had showed up at your doorstep in the morning, your sleep-addled brain could barely fathom the reason as to why he would do such a thing.

That was, until he walked into your room carrying breakfast in a brown bag.

“Good morning Y/N.” He said, voice still slightly raspy from a good night of sleep. (You weren’t going to forget how that sounded forever).

You greeted him with a morning greeting of your own and sat on your bed, stretching your limbs and analyzing the boy who—at this present moment—seemed like the happiest guy on earth.

“Feel free to help yourself,” Oikawa grinned, grabbing a bagel and a pack of cream cheese from the bag. “I have some updates for you.”

“Does it have to do with the Cool Down?” You walked over to the bag and grabbed something you liked from the inside.

“Wow. How did you know about the name?”

“I have my sources,” you winked.

Oikawa simply laughed. “I know it’s Kiyoko dumbass. She’s one of the sneakiest podcast hosts of all time.”

“So you do know.”

“Obviously.” Oikawa lounged on the chair in your corner. “Nobody else is ever working in that office. She should get some people to join her.”

You nodded and shifted to sit next to him on the couch. His warmth was a surprisingly pleasant addition into the morning, and you found yourself leaning into him. He didn’t make any move to stop it, opting to pull you in and place his arm over you.

“We have classes soon,” you said groggily, “But I don’t want to move.”

“We don’t have to right now.”

“Thanks Tooru.”

“Of course, Y/N.” He smiled. “Though we do have an afternoon meeting on how to divide the shifts. I’m not sure what we’re going to be doing about me.”

You suddenly felt a lot more awake. You shifted your weight onto your unsupported arm and looked up at Oikawa. “Are you planning to take a shift?”

Oikawa shifted nervously in his seat. “I’m not sure. I may have to for the sake of demand. Everyone is expecting me to live up to the expectation. I think we would be less successful without my involvement.”

You felt a twist of something. Not jealously, but not comfort either. Something between the two. You rose away from Oikawa, walking over to the opposite side of the room where your bed was and met his eyes.

“Do you really have to?” you asked, feeling partially unfair. There was nothing official between the two of you at the moment, but you’d thought after the kiss two nights ago…..you thought you had a chance.

“I might,” he gulped, “But you know you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to kiss.”

You sighed exasperatedly. “I know that you came up with this as a business opportunity and because you thought we’d never…get anywhere, but a long shift is going to be a lot of people.”

“I know,” he sighed, meeting your eyes with an expression in his own that looked a lot like sadness. “But the fundraiser might just have to come first for now— no that’s not what I—“

“Please leave,” you said, voice wavering a bit, “I don’t want to deal with the whole priorities thing right now. We can say we kissed once for fun. Headline it if you must. Later Oikawa.”

You turned away from him and walked towards your closet to find appropriate clothes for the day. You couldn’t even stand to look at him right now. Things would become too complicated for you to handle.

“Y/N, I’m really sorry.” Oikawa said from behind you, “That is genuinely not what I meant.”

You turned to face him again, not even able to meet his eyes. “There’s got to be some semblance of truth in what you said earlier. You love your team Oikawa. They are important. I don’t expect you to throw away opportunities for me. We’re not even dating.” You laughed dryly. “I’d like a bit of space. We can talk a bit later.”

Oikawa seemed like he had a lot more to say, but he wordlessly slipped out of the door, leaving your room noticeably empty.

Once he’d left for certain, you collapsed onto the floor and let loose the dam of tears you’d held in for so long.

When Iwaizumi found you in the library, he knew immediately that something was wrong. Your eyes were reddened ever so slightly, covered over by a splash of cold water to the face (most likely), and your usual cheerfulness when you greeted him was a lot less lively.

He took the seat beside you, surprised by your lack of response.

”Hajime,” you said softly, turning over to smile sadly at him, “Good to see you here.”

Correction: something was horrifically wrong.

“What happened?” He asked softly, wondering what was enough to dampen your normally resilient spirit.

“Fucking Oikawa,” you laughed sarcastically, “Look at me saying I’d never get caught up in his web, and then doing exactly that.”

Iwaizumi wrinkled his brow. That day on the bench, he’d known enough to discern that you and Oikawa had some sort of history. That much continued to be made obvious by Oikawa’s constant urge to see you and include you in everything that he and Kuroo didn’t think was important enough to invite you to.

However, he wasn’t sure when you and Oikawa became more than a past set of acquaintances….and that stung a little. He understood your reasoning though. Especially if it was as complicated as you seemed to feel at the moment.

“Were you guys dating?”

“No.” You turned to face him in full, and he was struck by the magnitude of just how magnetic you were. Iwaizumi was guilty of being stuck in your orbit. “Just a kiss. Because he sweet talked me into thinking he wanted something.”

“Knowing him, he probably did.” Iwaizumi said, “Oikawa has a tendency to be obsessive to get what he wants, but also be blinded by obligations. This was definitely about him headlining the booth, right?”

You nodded, feeling a sudden tightness in your throat at the thought. You weren’t ready to confront the morning’s events quite yet.

“That dumbass,” Iwaizumi groaned, “If he’d told us that he liked you and had actually managed to make a move we would’ve gladly taken his shift! Who gives a fuck about what the college body wants? Half of them thirst over everyone!” You laughed a bit at the truth of that statement. “Yeah, and Kiyoko told me she was also planning on making a little appearance.”

At this Iwaizumi raised his brow. “Oh that’s about to be carnage.”

“Absolutely,” you giggled, “Who knows? Maybe you’ll be the lucky person.” Iwaizumi laughed, a sound that was low and sweet and comforting. “I think I’ll leave it to some of the other boys. They deserve a chance after all.”

The two of you grinned at the mental imagery of the team fighting for a chance to interact with your beautiful friend, and suddenly, Oikawa’s shittiness seemed like something far less relevant.

Still, even with the humor of the situation came the very uncomfortable realization that you and Oikawa–-whatever you were–-were done if you didn’t come to some consensus.

You shoved your hands into your face, wondering how the hell you’d managed to go from avoidant and unattached to too attached. Maybe the rumors had some merit. A kiss from Oikawa was all that it took to get so jumbled.

Iwaizumi’s warm palm on your back was what brought you back to your senses. He rubbed his slow circles and sat there patiently until you emerged from your cover of shame.

“What am I going to do?” you asked, voice raw and vulnerable and everything you’d rather it not have been.

“Whatever you want to do.” Iwaizumi’s gaze was genuine, soft eyes studying you. “You’re entitled to your own decisions. Kuroo and I would never ditch you for Shitty you know.”

“It’s for the team,” you whispered, feeling tears threatening to spill over your cheeks. Your vision was hazy, and you blinked slowly to clear the water from your eyes. “So then why do I feel like this?”

“Because you care about him, Y/N.” Iwaizumi squeezed your shoulder affectionately, “You and him clearly bonded on some intergalactic level, so having that be suddenly shattered in favor of something seemingly less important is going to feel like shit. In fact, he is the real piece of crap here.” “The team matters.” “The team is all about relationships.” Iwaizumi said firmly. “I have a hunch there’s someone in this tournament that he needs to beat. That’s why he’s been obsessively orchestrating the perfect way to raise money to have a practice match beforehand. Still, I won’t deny it. Oikawa is an idiot for doing this to you. You have all the rights to move on with your life.”

“I think I’m gonna take my space from him for a few days,” you eventually responded. “I think I’ll also not visit the booth. I’ll give Kuroo the sign in advance so he can help with setting up?”

Iwaizumi nodded solemnly. “If that’s what you need to do, I’ll be your number one supporter. I’d still love it if you could stop by though. We love having you around.”

You nodded at him. “I’ll be there for you and Kuroo. Always. And you guys can hang out with me at the Cool Down when you’re off shift.”

“Of course,” Iwaizumi smiled, “For you? Anything.”

“How do you say, ‘I’m angry’ in French?” The ping of the recording microphone tapped on as Oikawa paced quickly around his room.

“Je suis fâché.”

“How do you say, ‘I like to go out with my friends’ in French?” “J’aime sortir avec mes amis.”

“How do you say, ‘I went to my friend’s house’ in French?”

“Je ne veux pas continuer.”

“Oui Monsieur. À Bientôt!” His phone’s recording feature switched off, leaving him in a silent room once again.

He was regretful, so much so that he paced around in his room in the hopes that it would give him some sort of clarity. As much as he wanted to approach you, he knew you weren’t ready to talk to him right now.

“Shittykawa,” he heard from his door, opening with a subtlety and closing with a bang. Classic Iwa move.

He turned to face his best friend, who at this moment, seemed to be quite irritated with him. He could feel the lecture as certain as one could feel a thunderstorm in the air.

Iwaizumi stood, arms crossed in Oikawa’s room, leaning against the wall and pinning him with a look so strong it might as well have been a thumbtack. Oikawa felt rooted in place, and all the words he initially planned on saying left his mouth.

“So Ushijima Wakatoshi happens to be at a school just a bit over,” Iwa started, “I did my research. Why not play a practice match with them to start to see their setting style? Break down their setter, practice receiving from a left-handed person, and maybe we can beat him, right?”

Oikawa sighed, feeling all the fight leave his body. He made his way over to his pale blue rug and sat down. “I know. It’s ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous is what you did to Y/N.” Iwaizumi glared at him. “If you’d said something about liking them and actually successfully getting them to like you, then we would’ve been perfectly capable of handling the shifts. Hell, even Kiyoko is coming. That alone will give people incentive to come and kiss us.”

“I made a mistake,” Oikawa cringed. He didn’t even want to think about the morning. What was intended to be a romantic gesture ended up being a horrible memory. His attempts to distract himself were futile, and he couldn’t help but wonder how Iwaizumi had found you. “But they probably don’t want to talk to me.”

Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa sadly. “They’re planning on skipping the booth. They’ve already decided to give their poster to Kuroo so he can help us with set-up. So don’t plan on seeing them.”

He grimaced. “Not coming? Really?”

Iwaizumi nodded. “I was pretty unhappy about it, but we’ve got to give them space to process everything.” The minute you’d smiled at him in the airport, talking about “college stampedes,” Oikawa knew he wanted nothing more but to know you better. He’d thanked every lucky star for the seats you had next to each other and relished every moment spent with you.

He wondered why you avoided him for the next months, always daydreaming about what he’d say to you when you finally reappeared at practices. He’d searched for you in your classes, but he always missed you.

When you walked into the gym on that fateful day, he thought he had a genuine chance. You were perfect. Your thoughts were exquisite, your smile radiant, and everything about you felt right. When he kissed you, he could’ve screamed to the heavens that his heart was yours.

Perhaps that was why his heart seemed to tear a bit at Iwaizumi’s declaration. You wanted to move on from this.

“Oikawa…you can still fix this you know?” Iwaizumi pulled him up from the rug, noting the reignited spark in his eyes. “You should probably get the fair set up, find Y/N, and explain yourself. I’m certain they’ll understand.”

“It’s the least I can do,” he said solemnly, “And if they still decide they want nothing to do with me, at least I did my part.”

You found him at Kuroo’s place at night when you’d stepped through his door uninvited (like you did at times). In your hands was your laptop, a few pencils, and the sign you’d made for the booth. The last thing you’d expected was to see the person you’d been trying so desperately to avoid.

Oikawa, for a moment, looked like he’d seen a ghost. He looked at the door, brown eyes concerned and scanning you as if you’d just walked in through the wall.

Nobody said anything. You stood still, too shell-shocked to process the fact that a night before the Cool Down, Oikawa was spending time with Kuroo. In fact, you could barely believe Kuroo had ever allowed Oikawa into his place in the first place, especially when he knew that you were planning on popping in at some point.

Kuroo’s eyes followed your gaze, finding it landing right on the floor next to Oikawa (as opposed to straight at him).

“Well,” Kuroo began softly, “I didn’t warn either of you.”

“You could have,” you said, looking back at Kuroo, “I would’ve liked to know before I got here.” “But then you would have never showed up.” Oikawa’s voice was clear, slicing through the silence of the room with a blade of decisiveness that you hadn’t heard from him. He looked you over, seemingly analyzing your health since the day he’d fucked up.

“I wasn’t planning on running into you,” you admitted, finding the courage to meet his eyes. “In fact, I was literally just coming to drop off the sign for your booth, talk to my best friend, and then go to bed.”

“Please let me explain myself.” Everything about Oikawa seemed pleading. His face harbored an expression of guilt so boundless that you weren’t sure how to react.

You wordlessly sat down in the corner chair closest to Kuroo’s door, setting your stuff down on the surface closest to it.

“I’m sure Iwaizumi must have told you what it was that we were raising money for.”

You nodded.

“I never had the chance to tell you more about what I struggled with in high school," Oikawa said quietly. “I was surrounded by talented players. Some of them are so talented that I thought I never even stood a chance. I realized at the end of my matches that I deserved to be on the court just as much as anyone else.”

“You’re a damn good setter Oikawa,” Kuroo interjected, “And even Semi admires your sets. He’s from the same school as Ushijima too.”

“Thank you,” Oikawa laughed softly, but even the sound was sad. He turned to meet your eyes. “I was out of line trying to say the volleyball club mattered more to me than what we were getting to be. I was worried they’d be weird at me for flaking, but they’re my team. Iwa told me they’d always have my back. Happy setter happy tosses right?”

You took a moment to process everything that he was saying, ultimately coming to one conclusion. He really did feel bad.

“Why are you so obsessed with having a chance to beat someone you had a rivalry with in highschool?”

Oikawa paused, contemplating your question. His brow was furrowed, and his hands clutched anxiously around nothing, seemingly finding the best words to phrase—whatever it was—that he was feeling.

“It was to give myself the confidence to know I can still beat tough opponents,” he said quietly. “But it was never worth losing you.”

You gently moved onto the floor, kneeling your way over to where Oikawa sat. When your fingertips skimmed his cheek, cool from the fall time air, he seemed fragile.

You gently curved your fingers to tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear. “Are you sure you mean it?”

“Every last word.” Oikawa whispers, and maybe against your better instincts, you pull him into an embrace.

As far as Oikawa was concerned, you weren’t coming to the booth today.

Cool Down’s set up began bright and early, and despite last night’s emotional clarity, Kuroo was still the one who showed up with the sign.

The booth was placed in a central location, but deep enough into the carnival so that after a sweet kiss, everyone could go and support the other clubs. He hadn’t been able to spot Kiyoko quite yet, but he was certain they were bound to cross paths eventually.

He walked across the grassy area where the carnival was being set up, watching the glorious “Cool Down” sign being placed at the front of the admit area. Many sports teams and board members of academic clubs were helping organize their own booths.

“Hey Oikawa! I can put up the banner!” Bokuto shouted from across the field, jogging up to their area with a rolled up “Mystic Kissbooth” backdrop.

“Be careful!” He yelled back, “We can’t have one of our best spikers getting hurt. I need those cross court and straight shots in perfect condition!”

Bokuto grinned so widely that Oikawa couldn’t help but grin back. “You can count on me!”

He took a moment to slouch against the now filled bouncy castle by their stand, clutching his clipboard to his chest. He could practically sense the excitement seeping into the space as the nearby club members set up their stands.

He’d had the opportunity to survey the space beforehand, and was quite pleased with the nearby stations.

The art club created a paint gun bullseye game to win handmade trinkets and jewelry. The president stood proudly at the set up side, excitedly loading up paint into the guns. He could already predict the boyfriends who’d attempt to win there.

To the other side of them was the statistics club’s probability stand. They’d set up numerous games: cards, a wheel, and even ring toss for the chance to win huge prizes. At the present moment, Kuroo was inquiring about the legitimacy of the airpods in one of the member’s hands (and yes—they were legit).

“This is pretty amazing, huh?”

Oikawa snapped out of his reverie, only to see Mattsun sporting his classic smirk. He looked around for Makki, but didn’t find him.

“Yeah,” he admitted, “I’m honestly surprised our little flier accomplished this much.”

“I’m not,” Mattsun chuckled, “You’ve been like this since high school Oikawa. Everyone here is really grateful for the rumors. Speaking of which…think the culprit is going to show up today?”

Oikawa snorted, momentarily horrified at the sound

that escaped him. “That’s ridiculous. I’m not planning on being a headliner. Iwa’s got that covered.”

Makki walked into view just a few moments later, looking thoroughly confused. “Where’s the rest of the team?”

Kuroo walked over at the exact moment, clapping Makki on the back. “We decided to give them a little break, considering they’re going to be doing all the kissing later.”

The group gathered together, and Mattsun pointed to the castle. “Who’s running this thing?”

“Oh it’s just a free fun thing the school is putting up.” Oikawa smacked it for good measure.

“How did midterms even go for you guys?” Kuroo laughed, “I pulled what I wanted in all my classes. Somehow. Orgo was a fucking miracle though. I genuinely thought I failed.”

“I was mostly fine,” Mattsun chuckled, “Though we won’t talk about history. Freaking liberal arts.”

Oikawa’s midterms had gone more or less to plan, but the added emotional stress had made it much more difficult to keep cool.

Standing there in that grassy field, he felt more at peace than he did the rest of the week.

Maybe today would be okay after all.

You and Iwaizumi were in your room trying to devise a plan on how to attend the carnival. The cool wood of your desk hit your wrist as you spread out the makeshift blueprint of the event that Kiyoko had so graciously given you.

Iwaizumi paced along the floor, inspecting outfits that you picked out while you devised a mental list of everywhere you wanted to go to maximize your enjoyment. Economic principles were literally designed off of utility, and you wanted to make sure all your contributions would have the best outcome for the clubs and yourself.

Midterms had been stressful, and while last night’s talk had fixed most of what had contributed to that stress, you still wondered about Oikawa.

Iwaizumi was the event’s new headliner, so what did that mean for Oikawa?

You weren’t sure.

The Saturday morning filled your room with sunshine that was comforting. From your window you were greeted with the multicolored leaves of campus, some floating down leisurely to hit the grass.

Iwaizumi, it seemed, had finally picked your outfit.

“Here,” he gestured, pointing to one of your favorites. “You rock this one.”

“Why thank you,” you smiled, tossing him the blueprint. “I’ve finally figured out the order I’m going to tour the Cool Down.”

Iwaizumi caught the paper in one arm, muscles flexing ever so slightly as he did. You nodded appreciatively. He was going to generate a shit ton of money.

He put a pen between his lips ever so slightly as he read the marks on the page. “Cotton candy. Art booth. Bouncy castle. Stats games. Chemistry lab. Apple dunk to win candy apples. Physics coaster.” He handed the page back. “That’s a pretty solid list. I think you’re missing something though.”

You pulled the pen out of Iwa’s mouth (surprised at your boldness) and smiled gently at him. “I’ll be sure to pop in at some point or be nearby to support you.”

Iwaizumi nodded, “Of course. I just need to beat you at any and all games we visit after my shift.”

You snickered. “Not a chance.”

Iwaizumi simply smirked in response.

“Hey, I need two tickets!” A student hollered to her assistant, who at the present moment, was working on acquiring more admit tickets from the roll they’d customized for the event. “We have quite the line here.”

“I’m working on it!” The assistant hollered back, jogging over with the entire row.

The line for the Cool Down was large, and you were thankful you’d had the foresight to arrive early enough to avoid a majority of the crowd. Being friends with Iwa had its perks too–the minute that the admitting team had spotted him, they’d immediately ushered you to the front so you were in a position to visit him later.

Soon enough, you were at the front of the line.

“Well hello there friend of Iwaizumi,” the girl at the front smiled, “How many tickets do you need?” “Just one,” you said, surprised at the lack of prompt to pay the entrance fee. “What about the entrance fee?”

“Oh, Iwaizumi took care of that already,” the assistant grinned, handing you a beautifully designed cardstock ticket and tying a wristband around your wrist. “So you can walk straight in.”

You smiled graciously at the duo. “Wow. I’ll go find him and pay him back. Thank you guys.”

Stepping around the ticket distribution center, you walked straight through the decorated entrance area and walked in.

For a moment, you were awestruck. The usually empty grass fields were filled to the brim with activity. All around you were the booths of various clubs, all with lines to try them out. You could smell the sweet and tart scent of caramel apples in the distance, and saw a couple trying out the physics club’s make-shift coaster with a cotton candy in their hands.

The late afternoon was brisk and fresh, and you felt the possibilities of the evening unfurl around you. As the sky darkened its hues, the fair would begin to light up from the fixtures that trimmed everyone’s areas. Everything, from the food areas, to even the Mystic Kissbooth would create a movie-like scene.

You decided right there and then that the Cool Down was the best fair you’d ever attended. You’d never seen anything as well thought out as what you saw today.

You made your way to the popcorn area, finding new booths that you hadn’t seen on the blueprint. In front of you was a simple dart-throw, with the guarantee of winning a special edition Cool Down shirt if you hit within a certain range.

This was intriguing.

“Hi there,” you said quietly, walking up to the booth. “Can I give this a whirl?” The booth’s president looked up at you shocked for a moment before nodding.

“Of course!” He said excitedly, elbowing his shift mate. “Y/L/N Y/N, right? We are huge fans of your work. Kuroo has told us so so much about you!”

“My work?” You asked curiously as they pressed a dart into your palm. “Like my fliers?” “Hell yeah,” the president grinned. “Pay if you win okay? I honestly want you to get our design out of it. We were inspired a bit by your Mystic Kissbooth sign.”

In the spirit of good fun, you aimed the dart as best as you could, so surprised when you hit a spot very close to the bulls-eye.

“Hey!” you shouted excitedly, “I actually got in range!” The president smiled excitedly. “Amazing! What’s your shirt size?” You told him your size, tucking a good amount of money into the jar. As soon as the soft shirt fabric hit your hands, you were immediately overcome with a sense of pride. The design was beautiful and simple, capturing the essence in the fair in just an image.

“You’re the design club?” You grinned, “This is amazing!” “Ah thank you,” the president said bashfully, “It’s an honor to get a compliment from you. You’re more than welcome to join us. Canva art is still art we love.”

“I’ll be sure to consider it!” You waved goodbye to the design booth as you made your way deeper into the fair, a t-shirt in hand.

“Hey there! Want a chance to win a cool plushie? Come right over!” You turned your head to be met with the sewing club with something that looked a lot like “Bop-It” set up with sheets of papers next to them. Out of sheer curiosity you made your way to the booth, finding a larger crowd than you anticipated. “Okay,” one of the members began, “Here is how this works. You and your competitor will receive a pre-programmed Bop-It machine. Follow the color scheme as closely as you can and note the last color in each sequence on your sheet. If you don’t mess up before your partner, you win ANY handmade plush of your choice!” In front of you, you spotted a couple tucking money into the jar and competing against one another. The round was quick, ending when someone clicked the wrong color. The handmade plushie of the winner was adorable.

Somehow, all your observations had led you to the front of the line.

“Hello,” a student smiled, “Do you have a competitor with you?” You were about to share a response when you heard a voice behind you. “Yeah, they do. I’d like to play please.” You were pleasantly surprised to find Kiyoko grinning as she tucked a hefty amount into the jar. The student at the front seemed enamored, and so did the entire line.

“Shimizu Kiyoko is here…” they all whispered.

“Hey Kiyoko,” you smiled, placing your own money in the jar. “Planning to beat me?”

“Of course.” She grinned mischievously, “I ran a volleyball team. I am competitive enough to beat you.”

The game began as soon as the students got a grip of themselves. You frantically hit the colors and noted them down, only to tie with Kiyoko. You’d both walked away with adorable plushies, though Kiyoko had forcibly had to ensure that they didn’t hand her an extra.

“I’m glad to run into you,” you smiled, walking with her further into the grass. “I had no idea what time you were planning to get here.”

“I’m glad I found you.” Her smile was infectious, and soon enough, you stood in front of a candy apple stand.

“Are you planning to visit the booth?” You asked her, watching her pay for her apple.

“Yeah,” she smiled, “Oikawa begged me to cover, so I was feeling nice. Though he’s been sulking lately.” You raised a brow. When you saw him last night, you could feel his fatigue. You felt the stress melt out of him when you pulled him in for a hug, but you hadn’t realized the extent of his distress.

“He hasn’t kissed today at all,” she smiled knowingly, “I think he’s saving an appearance for a special someone.” “He’s….not headlining?” You were shocked. After everything, it seemed that he really meant what he said.

“Nope,” Kiyoko wiped some caramel from her lips. “And the booth’s sales have been spectacular.”

Standing there in the field, you were hit with the intense urge to see him. “Go,” Kiyoko smiled, “They’ve been waiting for you to show up.” “We’ll catch up.” You smiled as you took off in a jog towards the booth. The wind swept your cheeks as you ran, and you could see the evening sun dip into different colors. Beautiful, you thought, feeling the adrenaline pump through your veins.

He really had meant everything. You needed to see him.

When you arrived at the booth, you were shocked at the line. So many students lined up, money in hand as they waited for their chance to kiss a volleyball player. You were shocked to see the crowd, watching someone hand Semi a particularly large bill before leaning in for a kiss.

You surveyed the booth for Oikawa, but you couldn’t find him anywhere. You couldn’t stop the thrum of your heart in your chest from overpowering your senses. Where was he? What if you were too late? At that particular moment, Oikawa walked out from behind the stand, putting some Chapstick onto his lips. And then, he saw you.

You stood in line, a large bill in hand and an expression that seemed almost desperate. Oikawa has never seen anyone look more perfect than you did right now. You held a handmade plushie and a shirt, lips flushed from biting them.

You met his eyes, feeling your heart shock at the sensation. There he was.

Before you even had a chance to think about what you were doing, you ran out of line to him, shoving the bill into his hands.

“Tooru,” you said breathlessly, looking at him with an expression he’d never seen before. “Kiyoko told me you weren’t headlining. I was afraid I wasn’t going to find you. I’m sorry for not trusting you.” Oikawa could hardly hide his shock as the words tumbled from your lips. He studied your cheeks, and smoothed out your wind mused hair with a soft smile. “Hey, it’s alright.” You exhaled, looking at him like he strung the stars. “I thought I wouldn’t make it in time.” Oikawa simply grinned before pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

This was different from the last time you kissed. He cupped your face softly and wrapped his other arm around your waist, tracing a small heart into your back. You could feel the curve of his lips as he kissed you softly, pulling you deeper when you smiled back into it. Everything about this was soft, almost loving. It felt like a truce. It felt like a confession.

It felt better than both of those things. When you finally split for air, his smile was nearly blinding. He looked at you like you were a poet and he was your poetry, a product of your purest affections.

“Go out with me sometime?” He looked nervous, standing there like he hadn’t just kissed you like you were the most special person in the universe.

“Of course,” you grinned, pulling him down for another kiss.

if you got this far, thank you for reading <3!!

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