#((that gave you a chance to rest and relax and do what you pleased!)) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

leviscolwill · 7 months

Text

adore

pairing: bsf!jude x fem!reader

summary: you adored your friendship with jude, but sometimes you wished things weren't so complicated between the two of you. [wc: 3,2k]

contents: mostly angst ??? a few cute moments here and there bc i'm fluff girly thru and thru 🤞, they can't communicate to save their life, drunk jude, a random man being annoying, jude being a dumb fuck, language, did i miss anything ?

note: this wip has been rotting in my drafts for a couple of months, i hope you enjoy it because i really enjoyed writing it 🫶

now playing adore by cashmere cat & ariana grande...

"please don't leave me y/n... you don't understand, i need you here."

"jude, i'm literally going to the toilet. i'll be back in 5 minutes, now let me go."

your best friend had always been the clingy type whenever he'd reach his alcohol limit (which was usually only after a couple of drinks). but tonight he was practically glued to your side, not that you minded, you basically spent your whole life attached by the hip. but you had to admit, it hurt a bit to see the person you couldn't have, not in the way you wanted to have him, at least, act all lovey-dovey with you.

the nature of your relationship with jude was complex, to say the least. he was your best friend since you were kids and you wouldn't change that for the world. but the way he looked at you sometimes made you yearn for something more, or whenever his touches on your shoulder or your waist would linger a bit too long to be friendly. maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you, after all, the chances of jude wanting you the way you wanted him were very low, not to mention the fact you led two different lives. but it didn't matter, you could manage to live and long for him with the hope that one day you could be more than a best friend to him. and this thought was all you needed to face him and his sparkly eyes for the rest of the night.

when you got out of the bathroom, your mind was still full of thoughts of your relationship with jude running in your mind. you were so engrossed in your thoughts that you bumped into a man's chest, not really being careful about your surroundings.

"i'm sorry, i wasn't looking." you quickly apologise to him, you were already on your way to your friends before the man grabbed your wrist, quickly letting it go.

"it's okay sweetheart, can i get your name as an apology ?" you cringed at his poor attempt at flirting with you, but you weren't feeling confrontational tonight.

"i'm-"

"y/n !" jude's voice made your head turn in surprise.

"you were gone for so long i almost forgot what your beautiful face looked like." he said smashing his face on your shoulder.

"is that your boyfriend?"

"ummm, no he's my-"

"depends who's asking." jude interrupted you, side-eyeing the nameless man.

"jude. i can speak for myself." the look he gave you broke your heart a bit, his lips pouting in sadness.

"if he is not your boyfriend, i'd gladly take your number, might even take you back to my hotel room..." it was obvious to everyone around that the situation was uncomfortable for you, that familiar feeling of disgust you always got when a man was being too friendly creeping on you.

"who do you think you are?" your best friend stared at the man with a frown on his face.

"jude, let's not..." the tension between the two men was evident as people stopped to stare at whatever was happening.

"relax mate, i just wanna talk to your friend nothing more." the stranger grabbed your wrist, still looking at jude, testing him, testing how far he would go to stop this.

"let me go." you didn't have to try getting away from him because jude did it for you.

the nameless guy suddenly let you go, and seeing him hold his jaw while screaming profanities at your best friend was all you needed to understand what just happened. jude punched him, but the alcohol in his veins prevented him from dodging the punch that came straight for his eyebrow.

immediately you took jude's arm before he found another idea to mess up your night some more, and walked out of the packed club for some air. you ordered a uber for the two of you and texted your friends that you were getting home early.

even fresh air couldn't rid you of the anger that coursed through your body. of course, you were mad at the man who couldn't keep his hands to himself. but another part of you couldn't help but be pissed at jude and his impulsive behaviour. but when you looked at him and saw blood trickle down from his eyebrow, everything was suddenly forgotten and you could only worry.

"fuck you're bleeding, why didn't you tell me? fuck, fuck, fuck." you searched through your bag for a tissue, mentally cursing yourself for how messy it was, and handed one to jude.

"just didn't wanna bother you..." he mumbled, holding it to his wound.

you both waited for the uber in complete silence, you knew you needed to have a conversation with jude about what just happened but you'd do it tomorrow, when he was sober and when your judgement wouldn't be clouded by anger.

thankfully, your uber didn't take too long to arrive, you helped jude put his seatbelt on after watching him struggle with it for a good minute. the atmosphere was tense and it seemed the driver felt it so he didn't try to make conversation with any of you.

you were halfway to your destination when you felt jude's fingers brush against yours lightly. you took a glance at where your hand lay, on the middle seat, jude's hand was right next to yours and when you looked at him he was suddenly entranced by his shoes, busy pretending it never happened.

you were sick of him acting like a child, so you held his hand, since he obviously wouldn't do it himself. the rest of the drive was silent but the atmosphere was peaceful, a nice change from the club.

you let go of jude's hand once you arrived at the villa you rented with your group of friends. you immediately took jude to the bathroom to clean his cut, he looked like a child while you were gathering the material you needed, mumbling words to himself with a frown on his face.

"is it gonna hurt?"

"probably not." these were the first words you exchanged since the club, the uneasy atmosphere of the room wasn't one you were used to whenever you were with jude. he was the one person who could understand you the best in the world, but it just wasn't the case tonight.

"can you hold my hand?" it was like he turned four again. but you couldn't deny anything from him, especially not when his eyes were glassy from all the drinks he had, so you took jude's hand in yours.

you started cleaning the cut, fully focused on your task, trying your best not to be distracted by the way your faces were inches from each other's.

"you're so pretty..."

if there was one thing you knew about drunk jude, it was that had loose lips. he couldn't keep any secret from you whenever he had the right amount of alcohol in his veins, and that often worked in your favour, but right now his words were only distracting you from your job.

"don't say that..." your heart was racing both at his words and at the proximity you two shared.

"i mean it." he was tracing your jaw with his fingers. you felt your hand quiver at the unexpected contact, and afraid you might mess something up because of jude, you quickly put a bandage on top of his, now clean, cut.

you started tidying up everything you used and expected jude to go to his room but he didn't budge.

"what's wrong?" you were a bit worried his injury was more serious than you thought and his brain was just working a bit slower than usual.

"kiss it better... please?" he said pointing at his bandage with a kissy face.

you were torn between kissing or slapping some sense into the boy standing in front of you. jude bent down so your face was in front of his, you obliged because you knew hammered jude would not have let you go to bed before you kissed him better. not because you wanted to, of course.

he was still unmoved, looking deep into your eyes so you took his hand in yours and led him to his bedroom for him to get a good night of sleep.

once you got jude to his bedroom safely, which wasn't an easy task given how starstruck he was at every little everyday thing in the house, he threw himself on his bed and grumbled something about clothes, before taking off his shirt with no prior notice. you immediately looked at your feet to give him some privacy while he changed clothes. he only giggled at your action saying he knows how much you would like to watch undress. which wasn't true, of course.

you took a quick peek, to make sure he was under his sheets. handing him a glass of water once he had his sheets pulled up to his chin and a content look on his face.

"no thanks, i'm not hungry."

"this is a glass of water?" you were perplexed at jude's words. the fatigue of your body preventing you from trying to understand his nonsense.

"well, i'm not hungry for water." you sighed at his childlike behaviour and considered shoving the water down his throat at some point before retracting, not really wanting to deal with the homicide of one the most in-demand football players of the moment.

you placed the glass on his bedside table and walked towards the door, unwilling to talk to a very drunk jude when all your body asked for was a good night of sleep.

but you couldn't ignore jude calling your name in a tired voice. you turned around to listen to whatever he had to say to you, only for him to beckon you closer with his hand. you rolled your eyes but still obliged, sitting on the unoccupied side of his bed.

"i just wanted to know why you were mad at me tonight." you didn't want to have this conversation tonight, but it seemed jude had other plans.

"because even if your intention was right, i think we could've solved the issue with no fits of screaming and fighting. i know you meant right but you can't just act without thinking all the time." you weren't even sure jude was registering your words properly, his eyes moving up and down your face.

"but i was mad at him too, he kept talking to my girl as if i wasn't right there." although jude was hardly convincing by the way the words came out of his mouth all slurred, you had to admit him calling you his girl put a faint smile on your face.

you thought your best friend was done but he just kept right on.

"fuck, you don't even know how many times i wished i was your boyfriend to stop these men looking at you that way. i mean i wished i was your boyfriend all the time, but especially then and also when you show me whoever you're talking to, you really have a vile taste in men y'know."

you looked at jude in total shock, he wasn't aware of what he just said from the way his face had the same drunken expression as before.

"do you mean it?" maybe he was pulling a prank on you. the look on his face didn't seem too serious, but then again he was drunk, how could you know how serious he was?

he laughed, how could he laugh in what was a very serious situation from your point of view?

"of course i mean it, sometimes it even looks like you want me too, maybe i just thought wrong. just tell me you don't want me, i reckon i could live with the fact i'm your best friend a bit longer." jude's nonsense somehow got even more nonsensical. how could he be saying all this with a smile on his face? even worse, how could he possibly think you didn't want him to be your boyfriend? you didn't even know what to say to him. hell, was there even a right thing to say in this exact situation?

"you can't do this to me jude... you can't just say this shit to me when you're drunk out of your mind. what do you expect me to say? i don't even know if you're aware of what you're telling me right now." words finally found their way out, your voice was much less cheery and much angrier than his as you felt a sense of injustice seeping through your veins. how could he say this to you like it was the simplest thing in the world? did he only love you when he was drunk? did he actually mean that, or was he over-exaggerating things under the influence?

"i love you and i loved you for a long time, please believe me, i know you're my best friend, and i don't want to ruin things between us... but i just needed to get this off my chest." jude was truly confused as to why you were so mad at him for this sudden 'confession'. of course, you didn't have to reciprocate his feelings, but he could only think about how he ruined your friendship for good from the way you responded so vehemently.

"goodnight jude." you left his room before he could add anything, and your thoughts were already running wild. you weren't sure if you should be feeling happy that he felt for you what you felt for him, or if you should be mad at jude for dropping this bomb on you so suddenly when he could clearly not think straight, making you doubt about the whole thing.

if you were overthinking before, your brain was now about to explode from everything that just happened in the span of an hour.

once you got under your sheets, no amount of sheep counting, lofi music, or breathing methods could put you to sleep. your brain was screaming at you, urging you to freak out about what just happened. every and each of your thoughts led back to jude, your own brain was torturing you, forcing you to separate truth from fiction at 3am.

you wished jude told you the truth, you wished his drunken words were his sober thoughts. but you didn't know how you were supposed to act like this never happened if this wasn't the case. how could you possibly come back to your little role, so well perfected over the years, of jude's best friend after he gave you the smallest glimpse of hope? your friendship with jude was the most important thing for you, but you wondered if you'd be able to pretend for the rest of your life or if you would go insane before that.

when sleep finally started taking over your endless train of thought, you came to the conclusion that if he meant what he said earlier, he'd have no issues telling you once he sobered up. you comforted yourself with this idea while your eyes closed by themselves, no more energy left in them to fight for the sake of overthinking.

jude had been avoiding you all day. the only time you exchanged an eye contact was during breakfast and even then he quickly went back to his room, not speaking a word to you. you could tell he was avoiding you like the plague, if he happened to be where you were he'd immediately flee the room, suddenly mesmerized by his phone.

you wished you were mad at him for how he was treating you and how he was making you feel, but the truth is, you could only focus on your heart breaking a little more each time he'd walk past you like you were two strangers.

after dining with the rest of your friends, you decided you were sick of jude's little games. if he didn't want to talk to you, then you would confront him whether he liked it or not.

it took you all the strength of the world to knock on his door after taking a deep breath.

no answer.

there was no way he knew it was you, you were sure of it. maybe he was just avoiding everyone tonight? you quickly refuted this idea, you saw him laugh with a couple of your friends half an hour ago.

you knocked again, a bit harsher this time to make sure he'd hear it. still nothing. you were preparing yourself to knock one more time, with much less hope than the first time.

"y/n, what are you doing?" yasmeen's voice startled you, it almost felt like getting caught doing something you shouldn't be doing.

"um... just needed to talk to jude, do you know where he is?" you couldn't help but feel embarrassed at the question. you were his best friend, if anyone should know where he was, that would be you. and your friend's dumbfounded look wasn't helping the heat creeping on your face right now.

"what do you mean? he left like an hour ago, had an unexpected meeting in london or something like that... he didn't tell you?"

it had been a very long time since you felt this way, maybe since middle school when your math teacher made fun of you in front of the whole class. your mouth suddenly drying, the sensation of your heart constricting, and your eyes stinging, trying their best not to let the sadness spill. it all felt like one big joke, you hoped jude would open the door, he'd tell you he was messing with you, he'd tell you everything he said last night again.

but that moment did not come. you couldn't answer yasmeen, afraid that the truth might spill along with your tears if you uttered a word. you simply shook your head, and went to your room, trying your best not to meet her eyes. your friends weren't blind, they could tell something was wrong between jude and you today, although none of them asked you what happened, they just kept a watchful eye on you and the way you looked at jude, in hopes he'd look back.

it felt good to cry in the privacy of your own room, far from the speculative conversation others were most likely having about the whole situation.

once your eyes were short of tears, you somehow found the strength to take your phone and click on your messages with jude to type a new one.

let's just keep doing what you did all day

i'll pretend you don't exist and last night never happened

probably best for us :)

1K notes · View notes

jjkamochoso · 2 months

Text

I Think I Like This Little Life

Nanami x gn!reader

Fluff

Nanami and reader have an adult conversation…

Warnings: a tiny bit suggestive in one part

“Kento.”

“Hm?”

“Are we boring?”

You and Nanami finally had a day off where neither of you were completely exhausted, nor were you called off in some sketchy part of the city to fight curses or held up in your offices, catching up on paperwork. When you woke up that quiet Saturday morning, you felt strangely relaxed. Nanami greeted you with his signature sleepy smile and a kiss on the forehead when he got out of bed. Since it was the weekend, you figured it was the best time to do all the fun things you’ve wanted to but never had the time for. However, you found yourself rain checking invitations for lunch with your cousin and clubbing with your friends. Of all the ideas that sounded the most pleasant to you today, those weren’t it. You slowly peeled yourself out of the bed sheets and draped a bathrobe over your pajamas to ease the chill. You padded your way to the kitchen where soft classical music filled the air and Nanami was simultaneously brewing tea and cooking eggs.

“Good morning, darling,” he called out, giving you another peck, this time on the cheek. “Did you sleep well?”

“With you next to me, my love? Always,” came your reply, earning you the chance to see a small blush on your boyfriend’s face before he turned back to the task at hand. You hummed along quietly to the song that was playing and appreciated the view you had of your domesticated partner. As he finally set a mug and plate down in front of you, everything piping hot, you smiled appreciatively and waited for him to seat himself before savoring the delicious breakfast. These types of quiet mornings were your absolute favorite. There was no need to fill the air with mindless chatter or anxious laughter. The company of each other was more than enough for both of you. The shy stolen glances between you at the dining table were routine in your relationship as you both found yourselves enamored with each other but still lost in the throes of young love. Your first meal eventually came to a close and as you stood to do the dishes, Nanami was quick to intervene.

“Don’t worry about those, y/n, I’ll do them. Please, sit down and enjoy your rest.”

You rose anyway. “No way! You cooked us a delicious meal, it’s only fair I clean it up.”

Nanami looked like he wanted to protest but gave up when he saw the determination on your face. “Fine. You wash, I’ll dry.”

As the last dish was put away and the sink rinsed clean, Nanami strolled over to you, grabbing you by the hips and staring deep into your eyes. “You know, I have a big day planned for us.”

You tried not to let your disappointment show. You had hope for a day filled with recharge and rejuvenation but you didn’t want to let your lover down. “Oh? And what’s included in that?”

He cocked his head, pretending to be deep in thought. “Well, first off we could…” He trailed off, distracted by your extremely kissable lips that were extremely close to his own. As he leaned in, painfully taking his time, his phone began to ring loudly.

“Tch,” he muttered under his breath, but you weren’t deterred. You ran your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck, goosebumps immediately popping up on his skin, and closed the distance, slotting your lips against his. You both made a contented noise at the contact. The kiss was gentle but needy, passionate but tender. Nanami’s phone had stopped ringing for but just a moment before the tone began again. He groaned into the kiss but still didn’t stop, his hands now roaming freely over your body and now it was your turn to groan, albeit for a different reason. His phone stopped ringing and started again once more.

“Whoever it is better have a good reason for interrupting us,” grumbled Nanami, breaking from your touch to answer his cellphone. “Nanami Kento. Oh, it’s you. No, thank you. I have plans. Yes, plans. No, not with you. No. No. I’ll see you on Monday.” He hung up.

“Let me guess, that was Gojo?” you mused, a grin erupting on your face. You could tell it was the white haired man on the phone with your beloved because he was immediately annoyed. Nanami nodded his head, his arms enveloping you in a hug as he rested his chin on your head.

“He wanted to know if we wanted to go out with him tonight for dinner and then clubbing. I hope you don’t mind I turned him down.” The blonde was taken aback by your giggling. “What’s so funny?” he asked you, letting go of the hug but holding you by the shoulders.

“I turned down my cousin and friends for lunch and the club today as well.” Nanami breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good. I have no plans today, I want no plans today. This day is ours and we will do as we please.” You nodded in agreement and sealed that with another long winded kiss before you went to your bathroom to get ready.

Thankfully the day had gone by pretty slow. It was a beautiful spring day so you and Nanami enjoyed a nice stroll around your neighborhood, listening to the chirps of the birds and rustling of the squirrels. You pointed things out to each other like a gorgeous flower (that Nanami of course compared you to) and a garden gnome (you couldn’t help that it looked just like Nanami!). You even cloud gazed for a while, enjoying the smells of the freshly mowed grass you found yourself laying on. When it came time for lunch, you made sandwiches for the both of you and munched on them while you did word search puzzles and Nanami did Sudoku puzzles. Like before, not many words were shared during this time but the comfortable silence was everything you could wish for. The plates were cleared, the sponge rinsed out. Another meaningful kiss was shared. Now it was time for household chores. You dusted while Nanami vacuumed. Nanami put the clothes in the washer, you put them in the dryer, you both folded them when they were done. You cleaned the sink in the bathroom while Nanami cleaned the toilet and shower. When that was done, it was time for another break. You picked up the cross stitch project you had been working on while Nanami settled for reading his newspaper. You sat in the family room on the couch while he opted for the chair. The window was opened slightly which allowed for the faintest touch of fresh air to be brought in by the light breeze. It was getting late into the afternoon and the birds, though still singing their songs, were beginning to head into their nests for the night. As you got lost into your project, the rustling of the newspaper brought you back to earth and into a new thought.

“Kento.”

“Hm?”

“Are we boring?”

Nanami lowered his paper and raised his eyebrows. “I don’t usually answer a question with a question, so forgive me y/n, but what brought on that thought?”

You went back to your cross stitching, nervously weaving the needle back and forth. “Well, it’s Saturday. We were asked to go out and join our friends in doing crazy things and instead we acted like an old married couple.”

“Would you have liked to gone out?”

“No. Would you?”

“Absolutely not.” His response was lightning fast.

“And so,” you laughed, “that raises the question. Are we boring?”

Nanami neatly folded his newspaper and sat next to you, taking your project out of your fidgeting grasp and replaced it with his hands. “I would spend the rest of my days watching paint dry if I had the pleasure of you sitting next to me as I did it. If the only views I ever saw were of neighborhood animals and our kitchen stove, as long as you were by my side, I’d be the happiest man on the planet. If that makes me boring, so be it.” You could tell he meant every word of what he said. Maybe you were being too hard on yourself—being able to build a life with someone as loving and kind as Nanami isn’t a privilege everybody is able to have and so what if people don’t understand you like to live a slow life? The only thing that matters at the end of the day is that Kento Nanami is yours, and you, his. You lifted your entwined hands up to your lips and gave his knuckles little kisses to show your appreciation for his answer. Unfortunately for you, you would never know just how wildly fast Nanami’s heart beat in his chest at the action, but you could get a feeling for what was going on by the deep blush spreading on his cheeks and his slightly flustered body language. You were definitely going to cancel plans to stay in more often.

#nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x y/n #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #nanami kento #nanami #nanami kento fluff #nanami x reader fluff

501 notes · View notes

xo-cod · 4 months

Note

Simon rubbing your clit and playing with your nipples while kissing you not even sexual but just to calm you down and make you fall asleep😴🥺 it's just so comforting is it just me??

i love this so bad nonnie, you're def not the only one 😩😙 god i need him so fckn badly :")

cw: fingering, nipple sucking, ooc/soft simon (again), v v rushed ‼️‼️ but i can also go into depth if you'd ever like <33

simon noticed your restlessness, he'd noticed just how unsettled you were in bed as he watched you with observant eyes fidgeting around. he knew you were exhausted but your mind kept you awake for some reason, he didn't know exactly what. but he had the remedy to help, turning on his side to properly face again. you looked guilty, about to apologise yet again for keeping him awake by tossing and turning though this time he had simply reached forwards and captured your lips with his before you had the chance

"you want me to help you relax?" he asked softly, breaking the kiss for a moment as his head leaned a hair away from yours big brown eyes shining knowingly. it only resulted in a soft sigh, eager nods and whispered 'yes please' from you to prompt him further

so his hand slid down your body slowly and purposely, pushing your underwear to the side as you felt the thickness of his fingers coning into contact with your entrance. his breathing hitched softly, a soft hum of appreciation as his thumb rubbed against your puffy walls feeling your arousal coat his fingers.

"there we go, honey" his encouragement was soft as you feel him finally relieve the ache that had been growing inside you for the better part of the day. finally being able to calm down and relax, your body unwinding just by his touch alone. he keeps your legs apart with his knee, using his fingers to massage and toy with your pussy while his head leaned in to kiss you. his lips nudge yours, nibbling along the skin while he makes his way down your neck and across your chest. relishing in every part of your skin he could manage to dote upon

his pace remained the same, never deviating even the slightest. his mouth leaned down to gently toy and suck on your nipples. kissing on the mound of skin before working his way to the top, his tongue swirling on the bud to feel it harden against the muscle. his lips clamped gently around it, sucking and licking until he was content and releasing with a gentle pop as he gave the other the same attention in the hopes that it'd give you a little more relaxation. he wasn't as intense as he usually was, his touch soft and light with a purpose. a purpose to aid you in relaxation and sleep.

his fingers dipped up towards your clit, running deft circles across your swollen nerves. he didn't add a finger like he usually would, knowing it would get you worked up and his intent was the very opposite. so he continued to rub against your pussy slowly with two of his fingers, the other hand going towards the back of your neck. his other thumb swiped on your lower lip, chuckling softly at the look on your face. dancing alone the line of exhaustion and pleasure, too tired to do anything but lean into him. and simon kept you close to his chest, huge arms wrapping around your waist to keep you against him.

"there you go, sweetheart. rest your eyes f'me, yeah?" he hummed softly, his lips planting a gentle kiss against your temple as he felt your body grow weary in his arms

#asks #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader smut

503 notes · View notes

cyn-write · 4 months

Text

“The Sun Caught in her Raven Hair”

Note - My first request!! Thank you @fellowhonesttwst, I really enjoyed writing this! If anyone else has request please read my rules and send them to my ask box!

Prompt: Rollo has been eyeing you since your arrival, seeing you as the diamond amongst coals. At the Ball, he corners you into a dance, but your BF is not going to let this slide...

Pairing: F!reader x Leona, Floyd, and Vil (Separate)

Warnings: Possessive behavior, suggestive, manipulation and obsessive (Rollo); established relationship, romantic, swearing (Leona and Floyd's parts); violence (Floyd)

Notes: This is part of my Glorious Masquerade series! So if you want to read the other parts of this series staring different characters click the links below:

“She Blazes Me Beyond All Control” - Azul, Idia, and Mallues

“I Feel her, I See Her” - Riddle, Deuce, Ruggie, and Jamil

“Her Smoldering Eyes Still Scorch My Soul” - Rook, Epel, Silver, and Sebek

“Heaven’s Light” - Rollo

Prologue

"Who might you be miss?"

Y/n gave a kind smile and nodded her head in greeting "I'm y/n, it's nice to meet you," she stayed next to Trein as she was there as his assistant.

"Yuu is our magicless perfect of Ramshackle. She will be working as my assistant throughout the trip," Trein added.

She felt Rollo's eyes scan her and, unlike his greetings to the rest, he held out a hand. Being polite, she offered her hand as well, and he lifted it to his lips, grazing her knuckles quickly. "It is a pleasure to meet you, y/n. I understand it must be difficult, being surrounded by mages every second of the day. I hope you get a chance to relax this trip."

Y/n blushed at the motion and bit her lower lip. All the while, she could feel her boyfriend glaring daggers at her and Rollo.

"I-I'll do my best..." Y/n replied.

Throughout the entire trip, Rollo seemed to gravitate towards y/n and used every excuse to isolate her from the group. They chatted about her difficulties at NRC and of the festival. Due to her being Trein's assistant and the constant reminders to behave, she and her boyfriend had little time together.

This all accumulated at the Masquerade. Rollo had given Y/n a proper dress for the occasion instead of the attire his counsel had chosen. The (color) fabric decadently adorned her figure and stunned the NRC boys with her beauty. But before her boyfriend could ask for a dance, Rollo stole y/n away. He whisked her to the dance floor, and they started chatting.

At this point, Y/N's boyfriend has had enough of the student council president, but what sends him over the edge is when he takes you to the balcony and dares suggest the worst:

"Y/n, stay here with me." Y/n turned quickly on her heels to look at Rollo in shock and confusion, "Those fools at NRC do not deserve your purity. You belong here. with me." He has her pinned against the balcony, "This is your sanctuary."

Y/n pushed Rollo away slightly and spoke up, "Thank you for the offer, but I have no intention of leaving NRC. It is difficult at times but I wouldn't have it any other way. Now if you excuse me, I want to go back to the ball."

Rollo grabbed y/n's wrist and pulled her against him. "It's because of him, isn't it? He has bewitched you!" He pinned her between the balcony wall and him. "Those fiends have enchanted you, but I will free you from those chains and show you salvation! No matter the cost!"

Leona Kingscholar

“Get your filthy mitts off her.” Leona growled.

Rollo turned from his cornered prey to the hungry beast. Leona was already pissed that he had to attend the ball in princely clothes, but the sight of his herbivore pinned by a knock-off, overly righteous Riddle made his mood darken even more. With a few lazy strides, Leona was now cornering Rollo. He pulled his herbivore out from under the bastard. Once she was safe behind him. Leona leaned in close to the righteous ass.

"You listen close, 'cause I'm only going to say this once." He snarled. He could smell the fear on Rollo as he physically overpowered the man. "When she says no. You listen. You don't. You deal with me."

Leona leaned back and offered Rollo an exit. "Scram. While I'm feelings nice."

Rollo did not hesitate to leave, straightening up his clothes as he did. And he did not dare look back.

Once Rollo vacated the premise, Leona turned to the perfect and enveloped her in his warm arms. He was a beacon of warmth in the bitter night wind.

Leona didn't say anything, the way his arms gently enveloped y/n close to his body, as close as two bodies could be, and the relief in his shoulders spoke for him. He was so scared that she would say yes. That something would happen. That she would be hurt. All those fears released into the hug.

Y/n also releases all her anxieties into the hug. The fear of Rollo doing something to her to keep her there. The fear no one would get to her in time. All the what ifs... but Leona washes away all the what it's with an embrace. She was safe.

After a moment, Leona leaned back and caressed y/n's soft cheek, "What am I gonna do with ya Herbivore?"

Y/n shook her head and replied, "Such eloquent words from a handsome prince."

Leona chuckled and stepped back, "Don't remind me... but if I'm a prince, I guess that makes you my princess?"

Y/n nodded and said, "Guess so.."

Leona looked back to the ball and heard the others calling their names, "Well then, Will the Princess Dance with her Handsome Prince?" He offered his arm to the y/n with the suggestion of grins.

Y/n nodded and laced her arms in his, "Of course, your highness."

Floyd Leech

“Ya really wanna die. don’t ya Hammerhead.”

Floyd loomed over Rollo. Neither knew how he got there without notice, but both Rollo and y/n nearly pissed themselves at his appearance.

Floyd grabbed Rollo by the collar of his uniform and pushed him against the balcony. Face out, looking over the railing at the concrete road underneath. Floyd held onto Rollo's collar with a death grip as he pushed him against the edge.

"LEECH! WHAT IN THE SEVENS NAME ARE YOU DOING!?" Rollo yelled in fear as he looked down death.

"FOLYD!" Y/n called and tried to snap him out of this.

"You’ve been leerin’ at her all week. You’ve been taken away my shrimps time. Ya hog her durn’ the dance. Then ya try ‘n take her from me. Permanently." Floyd was seeing red. He forced Rollo against the balcony and could push him over at any minute, “What’s worse. Ya hurt her. No. One. Hurts. MY. Shrimpy.”

Rollo was sweating. Floyd was mad. And Y/n was trying to snap him out of it. “Floyd! He didn’t hurt me! I’m Okay! I promise! He won’t steal you from me, no one can!”

Floyd looked over at y/n at this. He saw the look in her beautiful (e/c) eyes. They were full of worry, but unwavering. “Please let him go. If you push him over then we will be separated. You did what you needed to, I’m safe, I’m here, and I’m with you. Please let him go and we can go dance together, please…”

Floyd looked back and forth between y/n and Rollo. The adrenaline subsided and he stepped back, letting Rollo go. Once release, Rollo took a few deep breaths and clutched his chest. Shrimpy ran into Floyd’s arms and the two embraced. He gave her a big squeeze and held her close. She was okay.

“You-“ Rollo caught his breath, “You’re going to pay for that. I will have you expelled from Night Raven and destroy you and everyone at NRC-“

“I would beg to differ,” From the door, the smooth voice of Azul broke the building tension, “Before we do anything rash, I think we need to chat.”

At Azul’s side was Jade with his unnerving smile looking Rollo up and down like a tuna. Azul walked to Rollo and nodded to Floyd and y/n, “They band is play lovely music, you two enjoy the ball, dance, we will be down in a minute.” Underneath the business smile, Azul was fuming, “we will talk later.”

Understanding the message, Floyd looked down at his Shrimpy and picked her up princess style, “Let’s go shrimpy, this is boring.”

Y/n nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck. As they walked out of the balcony, Jade closed the door behind them with a menacing grin, “Have fun~”

Y/n didn’t want to think of what was happening outside, she didn’t want to think of Rollo. His words haunted her mind, “…you belong here, with me. This is your sanctuary.” Floyd did not go to the ballroom, instead he found an alcove and sat down with y/n in his lap. He took her arms off his neck n’s inspected her wrist with such delicacy. There were slight purple marks where Rollo held her.

He brushed his thumb over the marks and brought them to his lips, kissing the bruise softly. Dispute his rough exterior, Floyd was incredibly gentle when it came to those he loves. “Did he hurt you anywhere else?”

Y/n shook her head and leaned against his large chest, “…thank you…” she said softly, “I have no clue what would’ve happened if you didn’t intervene.”

Floyd held shrimpy closer and looked thoughtful for a moment, “I wasn’t going to kill him… just scare him…”

“I know,” She replied and curled closer.

“I was just…” he couldn’t find the word to describe what he was feeling, what he felt when he saw Rollo so close to her, when he made her the offer, when he pinned her. It was a mixture of rage and terror that he couldn’t contain. Then he saw y/n look at him with those pleading eyes and realized she felt the same.

“You wanted to protect me,” she said and kissed his cheek, “you where my knight in shinning armor, and saved me from the wicked student counsel president.”

Floyd smiled and leaned his head against her’s “I guess I am…” then he chuckled and smiled, “Guess that makes you Lady Shrimpy~”

Y/n giggled as well, “Guess so,”

For a quiet moment, the two cuddled. Enjoying the others embrace. Then the orchestra played a familiar tune and the couple looked at each other with the same idea. Floyd stood up and gently put shrimpy on the ground. He then bowed dramatically and held out a hand, mirroring a storybook painting.

“Lady Shrimpy, may I have I have this dance?”

Vil Schoenheit

Vil had seen this scene a million times on stage, screen, and page. The monologue was almost word for word one of his own; and Vil hates nothing more than a thief.

Vil clapped and grabbed the villain and princess’ attention. He walked forward in his purple and maroon masquerade garb. His mask in place made him look like a classic movie hero like Zorro, Dread Pirate Robert, or the Musketeers of old. “How clique, the high-rank Nobel, in a delusion of lust, corner’s the damsel and forces himself on to her, making her choose between him or another preverbal prison.”

Vil was a few mere steps from Rollo, and with the aid of his heels, loomed over Rollo with head held high, “I guess that makes me the masked, debonair hero. Stopping the villain just in time for the final duel.” He draped his magic pen and held it like a sword ready to parre, “Now, shall we duel or discuss this like civil beings?”

Rollo release y/n from his grip and held his hands up in defeat, “There is no need for the hostility, I am a civil man.”

Once release, the perfect slid away from her captor and rushed to Vil’s side. Once there, Vil placed an arm around her waist and held her close. To outsider’s the couple looked like a movie poster. He sheathed his magic pen and turned to look at his dearest. He caressed her cheek and quickly checked her for injury. Other than a small bruise around her wrist, she seemed fine. He looked back at Roll and glared at the incompetent villain who dare thought he could steal his beloved.

“A civil man would not threaten a lady in such a manner. He would also have the common sense not to go after a taken women, or maybe that was not clear enough.” Vil retorted, “Perhaps I need to make a more gallent effort in displaying my affection.”

Suddenly, Vil spun y/n into a deep dip and kissed her passionately in front of Rollo. He spun her up again and held her close, wrapping both arms around her and holding her close. “There, that should do it~”

The perfect was out of breath from the sudden, deep, passionate kiss. Rollo curled his lip in disgust. He took out his handkerchief and held it against his mouth. “No need. I get the message.” He started to walk back to the main doors, “I’ll take my leave. Y/n if you change your mind, Nobel Bell’s doors are always open to you.” He smiled at y/n one last time before leaving as if nothing had transpired.

Once Rollo left, Vil loosened his grip and run his thumb underneath y/n’s lip. “Are you alright?”

Y/n nodded and smiled, “Thank you, I know you’re not a fan of public displays of affection but it means a lot.”

“All that matters is your safety.” He said and fished two lipstick out of his pocket. He held her face as he fixed the smudging on his dearest lips, “Besides, it was nice to play the hero for once.”

After he finished, he admired his work and her lips as she said, “You will always be a hero in my eyes.”

He smiled and kissed his dearest again, softly this time. “and you will always be my dearest princess,” he said, his voice full of earnest.

The music inside swelled and an idea brewed in Vil’s mind. In the same manner as classic bandit heroes, Vil flourished his cape, kneeled before y/n, grasped her hand and asked, “My Lady, will you be my princess for this night?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Note: Please Like, Reblog, and Follow for more! If you are interested in seeing more characters in this scenario or these characters in different scenarios, please let me know! (Do not Steal)

459 notes · View notes

dj-spiderman · 10 months

Text

Request: Hey! So Miguel is my new obsession and I would just love to request this: So Miguel x male reader where the male reader reminds miguel of his daughter so he's overprotective and take son a fatherly role. I was thinking either that the reader gets hurt and Miguel accidentally calls him Gabriella so angst, or it's just a second chance for Miguel to be a father for a kid that needs it

ARAÑITO

- Miguel O’Hara & Child!reader

- Genre: Platonic fluff

- Synopsis: Jessica and Miguel decide to take you back to HQ for recovery, but with the slow process, Miguel grows a bit too attached to allow for you to leave his sight. Talk about fatherly instincts.

- A/N: Reader can be depicted as any age, though is written to be relatively in his teenage years. The Spanish used is from google translate, my apologies for any mistakes! If any Spanish users would like to correct anything, please do!

Jessica was the one to find you. Up against a vulture far from your own. Grotesque teeth exposed by an uncanny snarl. A thick substance, that could possibly be identified as saliva, dripping down onto his face as he was pinned beneath heavy talons.

Hushed and rapid wheezes and curses slipping past busted lips. The taste of metal heavy on your tongue as you grasp onto the heavy ankle, desperately trying to remove it from your collapsing chest. Weak pleas being spat, no clue as to whether they were aloud or echoing throughout your thoughts.

Vision spotting and a sense of doom filling your gut, your body gave out and you lied limp. So close to death that you simply accepted it.. until…

A large blur of blue and red tackled the man off of yourself. Leaving you to jolt up wheezing and coughing. Tears welling up in your eyes as the pregnant woman soothed you. “Sh, sh, shh.. we’ve got you now. Gonna be alright.”

Miguel works hard to take down the vulture, pinning him down with large claws and an open jaw. A similar state as to what the creature had you into before, only less patience as he locks his jaw down in a venomous bite.

Of course, by the time he’s finished, you’re unconscious after having the adrenaline wear off. Slack body held in Jessica’s motherly hold as she gives a knowing look towards the larger man.

“You can’t be serious,” he groans, walking past her and opening a portal.

“He’s injured Miguel! We can’t just leave him here.” She argues in turn, scolding the man. “He’s just a kid..”

The man pauses, slouched over and running hands through his hair as he groans. “Fine, but only for recovery.” He mutters, to which Jessica happily carries your unconscious form through the portal.

════════════════

The moment you wake up, you’re disoriented and blinded by bright lights. It’s all overstimulating; the lights, the constant beeping, and the static like touch all over your body.

It takes a moment to gather your surroundings, whining softly as you anxiously look around. Shaky hands lift up to try and remove the nasal cannula, only to be stopped by a much larger and warmer hand.

“I don’t suggest removing that, it’s helping you breathe.” You don’t know who this man is, but his words are gentle and you simply relax back and leave the tube alone, it’s better that way. “You fractured a few ribs in your fight, bruised a lung, but nothing aggressively serious.” The stranger huffs, seemingly checking the bandages that wrapped around your torso.

“W-who…” Your throat is sore and dry, it hurts to speak with the conditions. Your words puffed out with a wheeze and wince.

“Miguel O’Hara, head of the spider-society.” The stranger introduces himself, sitting back with a grunt. “You’re only being kept here because of your injuries. As soon as you’re healed, you’re gone.”

Such manners he had, you thought with a small glare. You didn’t need someone to take care of you, let alone someone who hated you from the start.

This was already the worst thing you’ve ever dealt with.

════════════════

It had been a couple days now, your recovery going slow as you remained bed rested with little movement. Today was Jessica’s day to check on you, but rather the warm woman, you were met with two younger men.

“So you’re the mystery spider!” The smaller of the two cheers, eagerly rushing up to you. “Miguel refuses to let anyone see you!” His energy big, like that of a puppy’s.

The taller, more punk-themed man stepped forwards, tinkering around with some of the many machines. “‘Course, we’re not ‘onna listen to that old bloke.” He mumbles, finally making his way over. “‘m Hobie, Hobie Brown.”

You only watch, eyes drifting over to the former man. “Pavitr Prabhakar!” He cheerfully informs, poking around at your IV’s and breathing support.

Eventually the nimble fingers cause your IV to slip out, causing a wince of pain from yourself. And as scary as it was, Miguel himself appears in the doorway. A nasty scowl on his face as he glares down to the younger men. “Pavitr, Hobie, our.” He practically snarls.

For someone without a spider-sense, he was scarily good at sensing when something was wrong. Perhaps his AI, you thought, glancing towards his watch as though it’s where she was kept.

With the two strangers gone, it’s just you and Miguel. He’s pacing, pinching the bridge of his nose as he goes on about something. “¡Le dije a Jessica, le dije que no los dejara acercarse a ti! ahora estas herido..”

You’re not quite sure what he’s on about, but he seems upset with himself. He spares an apologetic glance your way, walking over and gently caressing the skin from which your IV was pulled.

“This is going to sting, arañita.” He coos in a tone you’ve never heard before, holding down on your arm as he slips the IV back in. Hushing and coddling you as you whine in pain. The flinch you give only causes more pain from your ribs. Tears welling up as a bodily reaction to the pain. “I know, I know.. hurts, doesn’t it, arañito?”

You’ve never seen this side to him. It almost feels like trap. Luring you into a false sense of trust only to tear you apart..

Your small cries cause him to hold you close against his chest, whispering about how brave you were. It felt fatherly, almost. Something bitterly familiar. You never did have a good relationship with your own father.. maybe this was a second chance?

════════════════

Days turned into weeks. Your recovery a slow process, but you were improving. You were allowed to walk within the medical room, though Miguel refused to let you leave his sight. You were only allowed to explore alongside him, told you that he had to “keep you safe”.

You usually obeyed his wishes, but the boredom was just so aggravating.. it wasn’t like he would know either way. So, you left the room, stumbling along halls and bridges in search for something fun to do.

You near scream, as though you could in your condition, as a masked horse mindlessly knocks you to the ground. The cowboy atop seemingly panicked as he begins anxiously apologizing, but it’s not you he’s speaking to.

An all too familiar shadow peers over your small, ‘fragile’ form. Above you, Miguel stands with a menacing glare. He does not at all seem happy about the incident, or your little ‘escape’.

“Get that damn horse under control, cabron.” He practically snarls, immediately pulling you into the comfort of his large arms. It’s no surprise when he begins coddling you and checking for injury. He was always this overprotective of you.

“Are you okay, arañito? He didn’t hurt you did he? Why are you out of your room..? Were you hungry? Cold? Lonely even?” He continues to question you, holding you to his chest. “You know you can just call for papa, I’ll be there as soon as you need me.”

That was another thing, Miguel had taken it upon himself to have you call him papa. He was constantly spoiling you or doting on you. It was.. strange.

You hadn’t even noticed when the man began dragging you back to your bedroom, scolding you softly. “You know better than to leave, you could get hurt.. scared me so bad arañita…” he’s lying you in your bed, tucking you in and taking a seat on the edge.

“You know I’m just trying to protect you… trying to be a good father.” He seems so genuine, it makes you feel guilty.

“Lo lamento, papa…” He seems genuinely shocked to hear you speak, let alone in Spanish. Supposed you had picked up on a few words within your stay.

A small smile plays at his lips, glancing your way as he speaks. “It’s alright arañita, I know you didn’t mean to scare me..” he reaches over, gently stroking your hair back. “Just promise me you won’t leave me… please don’t leave me..” he seems to be upset with the idea, and so you agree to his terms.

Nodding softly as you take hold of his large hand, gently playing with the rough, yet warm, flesh. “Sí.. won’t leave… never..”

And it was true. You didn’t have plans to leave, not when he was such a good father. Not when he gave you reason to trust him. He offered you safety and love, and in turn, you’d be his arañito.

#miguel o'hara x male reader #miguel ohara x male reader #spiderverse x male reader #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #spiderverse #astv #miguel o’hara / male child reader

2K notes · View notes

the-book-gnome · 5 months

Text

Secret Obsession

Word Count: 1.7k

Pairings: Azriel x reader

Summary: After years of yearning for the Shadow-singer, you finally have a chance to act on your twisted urges

Warnings: smut, somnophilia, oral(male reiceveing) non-con if you squint, shadow play

A/n: This is definitely a little rough, it’s been awhile, the writing is probably not great but at least I tried

“Please?”

“No.”

“Why not? It truly causes you no harm, it’s just a small request.”

“If you want Azriel then go get him, I am not going to play matchmaker for you.”

You rolled your eyes at Rhys, after three centuries he still refuses to help you with your feelings for his brother. It’s not that you fear Azriel, you simply don’t want to have to deal with the awkwardness of his rejection if things were to go wrong. And unfortunately with your luck that would be highly likely. “You act as if it would be a difficult task, all I’m asking is for you to set me up with him on a mission, I will do the rest of the work.”

“And you act like there is any part of you that is in any way good at spying,” A sly smirk spread on his face as he looked you up and down, “Or being quiet in general, I don’t believe there has been a single hour where you’ve been able to keep your mouth shut, you even talk in your sleep.”

“We’ll you're being a little rude today, trouble in paradise?” Now it was your turn to smirk as he growled at you, you batted your lashes to him and put on the sweetest smile known to male-kind, “Pretty please?”

Rhys rolled his eyes at you, “You’re obsession with my brother is quite annoying, and as honored as I am to be the only to know of your affections to him I will not help you, but, how about this,” Rhys took your arm in his as he lead you through the hallways of the house of wind, speaking quietly, “If you don’t approach Azriel by the end of the night and make your affections towards him known, then I’ll make sure to tell him of all of your most embarrassing thoughts of him, maybe I’ll even tell him how your mouth starts watering the second his scent reaches your nose or even all of those dark twisted fantasies you daydream about. I’m sure that’ll scare him off,” A soft laugh escaped his lips as he looked down at your petrified face, “But who knows, perhaps that’ll interest him, he does have a different taste then most I know.”

As you reached the dining room he let go of your arm and walked towards his mate, giving you a wink over his shoulder. You stood in the middle of the room, your face scrunched up in anger.

“At Least I’m not the only one he likes to piss off,” You jump a little as Nesta whispers into your ear. You grunted at her comment and relaxed your body, you both walked over to the table where the weekly family dinner took place. Rhys forces all of you to be there no matter how busy you may otherwise be. As per usual you take your seat to the left of Nesta, Cassian at her other side. What was unusual was when Azriel sat himself to your right, he had always sat next to Feyre, never you.

Azriel’s shadows floated over you, dragging across your cheek in greeting, it seemed they never behaved when you were within proximity. Azriel had given up on trying years ago. “If you don’t mind, could you come to the library with me after dinner, there’s some information I need to find and you would be a great help?” His voice was soft as he leaned in to whisper his request into your ear.

You simply nodded towards the male, always the perfect picture of boredom when he was around you. At that he gave a small smile, then started stacking food onto his plate, the rest of the inner circle had already started.

——————

You trailed after Azriel to the library, dinner was the same as always, as everyone spoke and made jokes together you simply raised the shield around yourself to conceal and scent and went into your mind, dreaming of those dark twisted fantasies Rhys had mentioned earlier.

Sometimes you feel guilty thinking of Azriel the way you do, all of the ways you would use his body for your own pleasure. How badly you wanted to make him beg for you. The day dream you had at dinner was quite captivating, it was most likely now or never with Rhys’s little threat, Azriel might run far from you if Rhys were to tell him those stories.

“I’ve already made a stack of books for us to read through, there’s quite a few so if you would like to stop at any time I won’t mind restarting in the morning.” Azriel had led you to a quiet lower level in the library, it was late, all of the priestesses had already gone to bed so it was just the two of you till morning. Perfect for what you want to do.

You sat in a cushioned chair adjacent to the one Azriel had sat in and began with the first book. It was extremely mind numbing, it took all your focus to read these books, often having to restart the page. Hours past by, you’ve made it through another book, a true mystery that was. Azriel had made it through three already. You glanced over at him, his face showed pure concentration, it was a wonder to you how he was so interested in these boring ass books. You let out a little sigh as you continued on with the reading.

With the fourth book you had finally found interesting bits and pieces, enough for you not to notice Azriel dozing off next to you. That was until you heard the softest of snoring coming from him. Your head snapped to his direction in confusion, he had never fallen asleep around you before. Part of you thought he never slept at all. You were in awe at the sight of it. The hardened features of his face softened, his plush lips slightly parted, the book in his hands about to fall to the floor. His shadows swirled around his body slowly as if they were falling asleep as well. You set your book down and made to reach for the one in his hands. When you touched it his shadows perked up assessing your intention, when you slipped the book from his hands and set it next to your own they glided over to you. They swirled around your arms, settling around your waist.

You looked back to Azriel who so conveniently was still fast asleep. The thoughts of your fantasy from dinner crossed your mind. And as you slid to the floor and sat yourself between the spymaster's legs, his shadows did nothing to wake him, as if knowing what you intended to do, letting you do it. You reached for the ties to his leather pants, hands shaking a bit, the excitement of what was about to happen going through you. The space between your thighs had started the second you saw him fast asleep next to you.

Once the ties were done with you watched as a small shadow played gently with his cock, the other moved up to his face, lazily stroking through his hair, making sure to keep their master asleep. You watched as his cock hardened through his leathers, the shadow working quickly for you as you were getting impatient. Your panties were already soaked with how excited you were to finally be able to touch him. You watched as the little shadow joined the other up by his hair. Biting your lip you moved your hands back to his lap, slowly pulling the fabric down just enough to pull Azriel’s cock out.

A breath escaped your lips as you laid your eyes upon it, so much bigger and thicker than you had thought possible. What the other females say about wingspan must have been true then.

His tip was red and looked almost painful, you looked up to him, his mouth parted a little more, his brows drawn together. It wasn’t your fault his shadows did this to him, if anything, you would only be helping him with his problem. You leaned forward and licked a bead of his liquid that leaked from his tip, moaning at the taste you went back for more, dragging your tongue from the base to the tip. You slid your mouth down a bit, sucking harshly, your grip on his cock tightened. Your eyes rolled as you truly tasted him. Azriel gasped at the feeling, still in a deep sleep thanks to the shadows.

You closed your eyes and took more of him in, going as deep as you could, what wouldn’t fit down your throat your hands took care of. Another breathless moan came from his lips as you started bobbing your head, tracing your tongue around the veins of his cock. His hands twitched next to you. You gaged every time he hit the back of your throat, that only drove you to go faster, every moan from him made you feel even more obsessed with him. You could feel his cock twitching, so close to his needed release. You indulged the needs of his body, stroking the base and adding pressure. You moved your mouth back to his tip, your hands taking over the rest of him, sucking and swirling your tongue around his head, that tipped his sleeping body over the edge, you both moaned the second his come coated your mouth. Azriel’s hips jerked and his moans continued, you’d never heard such beautiful sounds before.

You swallowed around him, licking up any of the mess he made. Before tucking his cock away you gave it a quick kiss, a farewell until you could play with him again. His shadows left his head, moving to dance across your body, slipping through your panties, you shooed them away, “Not yet,” You whispered, standing up on shaky legs, buzzing with need. You ignored those urges, wanting him to be awake when you put his cock in you.

You stroked your hand in his hair, leaning down to kiss his flushed cheeks. His eyes slowly fluttered, finally waking up. You left before he saw you, heading to the main doors of the library. He will assume you have gone to bed, and come to get you in the morning to continue with the reading. He would never suspect a thing. The only evidence was his untied strings, you did not remember that little fact though.

#acotar #acotar x reader #reader smut #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel smut #azriel x you #azriels shadows #azriel x reader #acotar smut #azriel acotar

505 notes · View notes

astermath · 11 months

Text

mark of mine ⋆୨୧˚

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: you getting ready turns into something more intimate with your boyfriend. he doesn’t realize he’s about to go out with marks of your affection all over him.

word count: 1.4K

tags: established relationship, fluff, praising ethan for being the prettiest boy, him being so vulnerable to your kisses, marks of red lipstick, idk what else to put here lmao

notes: just a bit of a fluffy blurb, I’ll be trying out a new character soon but for now my ethan landry brain rot must be satisfied. please let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further ethan landry related writing!

The room was filled with soft music, the smell of freshly applied perfume and dim, cozy lighting. The two of you were getting ready to head out with the rest of your friends to a party. Or, well, at least you were. Ethan was sat on your bed playing a mobile game, since all he really had to do was get dressed. Sometimes you envied him for not having to put in a lot of effort to look good, but then again, you did like the entire process of getting ready to go out.

You rummaged around your makeup bag, somehow not being able to find your favorite lip gloss, before you remembered you’d let Tara borrow it. You decide to look for something else, until your fingers came across a lipstick you hadn’t touched in forever. It was a gorgeous dark red, and you vividly remember begging your mom to get it for you when you were just a teenager. The memory brought a smile to your lips as the pads of your fingers touched the luxurious packaging.

You looked back into the mirror and took off the cap, twisting the lipstick up and gently applying it to your lips. The texture was smooth, creamy, the color resembling a deep, almost blood-like shade of scarlet red. It worked so well with your skin tone and your features, you wondered why you hadn’t touched it in so long.

You ran it across your bottom lip, twisting the lipstick back down again and putting it away before you rubbed your lips together, releasing with an audible ‘pop’. You admired yourself in the mirror, before a pair of familiar hands distracted you.

Ethan hummed softly, hands finding their place on your hips as he pressed a gentle kiss to your neck. “Hmm… You almost done? I’m getting lonely just sitting on your bed…”

You turn around to face him, hands sneaking up his chest and settling on his shoulders as your back bumped against the sink. “You’re so impatient…”

He leaned his head down to rest his forehead against yours, thumbs gently running circles over your hips. “Can you blame me?” He leaned further down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Hm… You look so pretty…” He smiled against your lips. Funny he was saying that right when he had his eyes closed to kiss you.

You returned the kiss, body relaxing under his touch. Of course he always thought you looked gorgeous, often sneaking glances at you even if you two weren’t talking, and complimenting you any chance he’d get. But seeing you all dolled up like this, it truly brought something out in him. And when you’d put on that fancy perfume, he’d always be all over you by the end of the night.

You pulled away and held his face, eyes widening just a little at the slight red stain on his lips. Now you remembered why you didn’t wear this lipstick that much again, it was not transfer proof whatsoever. But that just gave you an idea...

You smiled gently and placed another kiss on the corner of his mouth. A perfect kiss mark adorned his face, and he had no idea. “Hm... We have some time before we have to head out, right?”

“Wh... Oh, uh, yeah... I think so.” He always got so into kissing you, he sounded a little out of it afterwards. “Why?”

“No reason in particular, just wanna spend some alone time with my boyfriend.” You grinned, having to hold back a giggle at the sight of your lips marked onto his skin. You took his hand and guided him back to the bed, getting on his lap when he sat down, straddling his hips. Your dress hiked up just enough to expose your thighs, those gorgeous thighs he could never get enough of. Even now, his hands gravitated towards them, settling gently on the soft flesh.

You leaned in again, one hand sliding into his curly hair, gently scratching his scalp as you peppered gentle kisses over his cheek, before moving onto his jaw. “You’re so pretty...” You mumbled against his skin. You felt Ethan’s hands grip your thighs just a little harder, his hips shifting slightly at your words. He was so easily influenced by you, like your presence alone excited him.

You dipped down to his neck, his breath getting caught in his throat when you kissed the sensitive skin below his jaw. His hands started moving back and forth, softly rubbing, almost massaging your thighs.

“My pretty boy...” He could practically hear the smile on your lips when you whispered into his ear, shivering when you nipped at his earbud. The kisses on his neck got more intense, and he responded well to them, making sweet noises as reward for your efforts. He spoke your name softly, almost as a warning, as if to say “if we keep going, I’m going to have a problem”.

You pulled away, looking at him and feeling satisfied with the masterpiece you’d created on his face. He was a little flustered, pink cheeks decorated with deep red marks of your affection. Your lipstick was perfectly intact, but anyone else looking at him would quickly realize what you two had been up to before.

You were rudely interrupted by a loud notification on your phone, startling you both.

[chad]: r u guys coming or are u too busy fucking?

[mindy]: please don’t be fucking rn

[chad]: they’re def fucking

[tara]: U GUYSSS just get down here already it’s cold :’(((

You smiled at the screen and texted back a quick “omw!” before tossing your phone to the side.

“Alright, we should head out. The others are getting cold waiting for us downstairs.” You pressed a final kiss to his cheek before getting off his lap. Ethan’s hands remained in place for a moment, ghosting over where your thighs had just been, not fully registering your words yet.

“Right! Right, we should uh... Yeah.” He adjusted himself a little and grabbed his jacket as you put on your heels.

You were already downstairs, waiting with the rest as you were trying to defend your case of not having sex with your boyfriend right before you were going out.

“Right, what else would have been taking you two so long?” Anika rolls her eyes and teasingly bumps her hip against yours.

“I’m telling you, I seriously couldn’t find my phone!” You giggled.

“Alright, alright, let’s just hope he hurries up so we can actually go.” Mindy said, hands rubbing her own arms to keep herself warm a bit. “I love your lipstick by the way, I’ve never seen you wear it before.”

You smile at her compliment, and right as you wanted to respond, the sound of the front door opening interrupted you. Everyone turned to look at Ethan walking outside, a smile on his face as he waved.

“Hi! Sorry it took so long, I seriously couldn’t find my keys.” His smile faded a bit when he noticed everyone was staring at him. You felt your own cheeks heat up at the sight of his kiss marked face. In the heat of the moment, you’d completely forgotten to tell him to take it off, and now your alibi for what you were up to earlier was totally ruined.

“Are... You guys okay? Do I have something on my face?” Ethan questioned, oblivious as usual. Chad broke out in laughter at those words, and the rest followed soon after as you brought your hands up to cover your embarrassed face.

“Oh, man! You guys suck at lying!” Chad says between fits of laughter.

Ethan opens the camera on his phone and his eyes widen at the sight. “S-Shit, I didn’t realize your lipstick rubbed off on me like that.”

Tara and Anika had already snapped multiple pictures of Ethan’s face, so there was no way either of you were ever going to live this one down.

“Alright, alright, very funny, haha.” You try to interrupt. “You might wanna go wash that off babe.” You look at Ethan, and he nods with a bit of a nervous smile.

“I don’t know girl, I think it’s a look!” Tara comments, and they all laugh again.

You rolled your eyes, but secretly, you agreed.

That picture Anika took of Ethan became your lock screen soon after.

tag list <3

@kometqh

#aster writes scream #ethanmath #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x fem!reader #ethan scream #ethan landry fic #ethan landry writing #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry fluff #scream 6 fan fiction #scream 6 #scream 2023 #scream 6 fic #scream 6 imagine #ethan landry scream #ethan landry scream 6 #jack champion #jack champion imagine

2K notes · View notes

chvoswxtch · 7 months

Text

desire

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: now that the defenders of freedom had been caught, what's next for you and frank?

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of alcohol & grief, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 8.1k

a/n: the one you've all been waiting for. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[previous chapter] | [next chapter] | [series masterlist]

Considering the fact that your place was still an active crime scene and Homeland still needed to track down the rest of Steven’s dipshit goons to ensure there would be no more threats or attacks, Dinah wanted to take you to a safe house until the investigation was finished.

Frank, however, was not having any of that shit.

It was admittedly an ego boost watching Dinah and Frank lock into a heated staring contest while arguing about who got protective custody of you, and definitely amusing. But eventually, she gave into the stubborn brick wall that was Frank Castle, threw her hands up in total exasperation that was followed by a colorful string of adjectives thrown his way, and that was how you found yourself once again on the road with Frank.

Initially when you noticed that Frank was driving in the direction outside of the city, perplexment weaved between your brows, but he quickly set your curiosity straight as soon as he noticed it blanketing your features. He didn’t even give you a chance to voice your inquisitions before explaining that he was taking you somewhere safe that no one else knew about.

That knowledge filled you with a bubbling sense of giddiness because getting to stay with Frank at his apartment was one thing, but getting to stay with him in a place that sounded private and secluded? Yeah, that was more than okay with you.

The longer Frank drove, the more drastic the scenery changed, passing by in a blurry film reel on the other side of the passenger window. The clamorous and bustling streets of the concrete city faded away slowly and soon settled into quiet black asphalt that shrank to one lane on either side of the road. The millions of inhabitants of New York City seemed to melt away into the horizon in the rear view mirror of Frank’s truck, leaving the two of you the only souls for miles. The trees became more and more dense, creating opaque patches of foliage in golden ochre, rusty ginger, and spiced cranberry. In that moment, sitting in the passenger seat was the most at peace you had felt in almost seven months since the whole had nightmare began, and a lot of that peace had everything to do with the man in the driver’s seat absentmindedly tapping his fingers against the steering wheel to the Bruce Springsteen CD currently playing.

After about two hours of driving and light conversation, Frank turned off the asphalt road onto an unmarked dirt path, and you turned your head to stare over at him in half-hearted suspicion while lifting a brow in silent questioning.

“You know, if you kept me alive this long just to murder me in the middle of the woods, that’s some serious dedication.”

Without missing a beat, Frank let out a dry chuckle.

“If I was gonna kill ya, I woulda started switchin’ your coffee out with decaf a long time ago.”

It was always a struggle not to laugh at Frank’s dry sense of humor. You tried not to give him the satisfaction of your amusement, but you found yourself giving in more and more lately. Letting out an overly dramatic sharp gasp while staring at him in exaggerated faux horror, you reached over and lightly smacked your palm against his firm bicep.

“That is the most evil form of torture I have ever heard.”

Frank snickered deviantly, clearly pleased with himself, and the relaxed grin on his soft lips was stretched so wide that his lifted cheeks caused his eyes to crinkle in delight. For a moment, your breath caught in your throat at the sight. It never failed to render you speechless just how much lighter Frank looked when he smiled. Happiness looked so achingly beautiful on him. Every time you silently observed him, you always learned something new about Frank. He had deep set creases softly feathering around the edges of his eye sockets, proof that Frank had once been a man that smiled and laughed as easily as he breathed. You sincerely hoped that version of him that he seemed to keep buried so deeply was steadily rising back to the surface, and that these ephemeral glimpses you got would soon become permanent.

The gilded stream of midday light cast a velvet glow on Frank’s softened features, leaving you so completely entranced that you hadn’t even noticed the lack of motion when he parked his truck.

“We’re here.”

The gruff alert of Frank’s voice induced you out of your bewitchment, and it was then that you suddenly noticed the quaint one story cabin nestled a few feet away in front of you.

It was composed of wood in a rich shade of burnt umber, and topped with a forest green downward v-shaped roof. There were a few worn steps leading up to an enclosed porch that appeared to snugly wrap around the cabin entirely, and two large square glass windows on either side of the front door that was painted the same shade of green as the roof. The curtains were drawn so you couldn’t see inside, but from the outside it looked incredibly cozy.

When you got out of the car, you noticed there wasn’t anything around at all but thick woods, and you silently wondered just how far back they went. There didn’t appear to be anyone or anything around for miles, and the only sounds you could hear were birds chirping and the worn wooden steps creaking under the weight of Frank’s heavy black boots.

“Wow. Billy offers one hell of a retirement plan.”

Following up the steps behind Frank’s large frame, a glimpse of black flashed in your peripheral vision, and you noticed there were security cameras installed on the left and right corners of the roof, along with what looked to be several motion detector lights along the top perimeter. Knowing Frank, there were probably far more around the entire cabin, and probably even hidden in the trees as well.

Frank paused for a moment at your comment, his dark brown eyes glossing over your presence at his right before taking in the sight of his own cabin like it was the first time he had ever seen it.

“Nah, s’just somethin’ I never got ‘round to finishin’ ‘til a few months ago. Almost forgot ‘bout it. It was s’posed to be a surprise project for my-”

The second Frank cut himself off, his body language changed entirely. His relaxed posture instantly stiffened, causing him to stand rigidly at his full height while his shoulders squared to their broadened width. The former calm expression he wore turned to stone right before your very eyes and he clenched his jaw in such a harsh line you could hear his teeth grind. Frank was intensely staring directly through the small six panel window that was in the top middle of the front door, like there was something on the other side that only he could see.

Before you could react, he abruptly unlocked the front door and pushed it open with his left hand, clearing his throat and vaguely gesturing with his index finger before turning away to descend the stairs without giving you so much as a second glance.

“I’ll uh get the bags. Room at the end of the hall on the right is yours.”

The haunted look in Frank’s eyes reminded you of the night of the gala when he had told you that he had lost his wife. It was almost the exact same one. The thought briefly crossed your mind that he meant to say it had been a surprise project for her, but you quickly put it to rest. Frank clearly didn’t want to elaborate on the subject, and you knew better than to push. The best thing to do was give him his space and let him come to you if he wanted to. Still, it didn’t stop the journalist in you from running wild with questions, and also filling you with a slight sense of guilt that you were about to share a space with Frank that was meant to be something sacred and special between him and his wife.

»»———　　———««

The room at the end of the hall ended up being the master bedroom, to which you protested heavily against taking, but ultimately ended up being an argument you lost because Frank played dirty and distracted you with the delectable scent of homemade pasta sauce and a wine glass that was filled to the brim with bubbly pink.

While you sat at the kitchen island and sipped at your now half empty glass, you studied Frank with a narrowed gaze. A part of you was annoyed with him and yourself at how easily you fell into the trap he set. He knew you well enough to know Italian food was your weakness and that you were more compliant after being fed. But a bigger part of you was completely mesmerized by the way he gracefully navigated the open kitchen.

There was a furrow of concentration nestled between his thick brows while he precisely measured specific spices to add to the saucepan that was layered with ruby sauce that he had garnished with freshly cut oregano and parsley. On the far back left burner was a boiling pot of penne pasta, and in front of that was a skillet of ground meat Frank had added diced onion and garlic to along with several other seasonings. He shifted between each pan with a quiet elegance that captivated you, and simultaneously irritated you, because there didn’t seem to be a damn thing the man couldn’t do.

“So you’ve been a secret chef this entire time and didn’t tell me?”

“You didn’t ask.”

Rolling your eyes at his quick retort, you cocked your head to the side slightly and focused on the way his back muscles strained against the fabric of the black henley he wore.

“I’m pretty sure I would’ve had an easier time getting nuclear launch codes from the Russian government than ever getting a straight answer out of you.”

Frank snorted at that, throwing you a quick humored glance over his broad shoulder.

“Hey, I give you answers.”

“Oh yeah, after nearly five months of stonewalling me. I didn’t even know what you did before becoming a bodyguard until you told me, what, a week and a half ago?”

Frank lifted one of his thick brows while turning his body slightly towards you.

“You never read my personnel file?”

Glancing down at your wine glass, you clicked your tongue against the inside of your cheek and gave a subtle shake of your head.

“Homeland wouldn’t let me have it.”

“And you let that stop you?”

There was a hint of tease in Frank’s deep voice, and you lifted your gaze to squint at him in annoyance noticing the cheeky smirk curling at the edge of his mouth.

“I’m a journalist, Frank. Not a hacker.”

“Ah, don’t give me that shit. That may be your job but it ain’t all you are. Besides, you’re a goddamn force to be reckoned with and a pain in the ass when you don’t get your way.”

A mischievous smirk slipped across your lips while you brought your glass up to your mouth, looking at Frank innocently over the rim.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Frank’s eyes seemed to wander over your face, stopping at the way the rim of the glass settled against your bottom lip, and when he met your eyes again, they were subtly darkened with that look that sent a tingle down your spine.

He silently stared at you for only a second longer before giving a slight nod, and you caught the wry smile slipping over his lips as he turned back to face the stove.

“Whatever ya say, sweetheart.”

You weren’t exactly sure what the source was of the heat you currently felt blooming in your cheeks: the wine you had consumed, the aroma of the fresh chili pepper Frank had just added to the sauce, or the way he had just looked at you.

Attempting to redirect your impure thoughts before the liquid courage could make you bold enough to voice them, you looked for something to distract yourself with. With your chin in your palm, you glanced down at the rouge tinted liquid and lazily swished it around in your wine glass. A thought quickly popped into your head that caused you to let out a soft snort.

“I didn’t take you as a rosé guy.”

Frank adjusted the heat on the sauce to a low simmer before turning to face you fully, wiping his large hands off on a sage green rag before tossing it over his right shoulder. He took a step over towards the island you were sitting at and wrapped his long fingers around his own wine glass, which looked ludicrously tiny in his hand, and took a long purposeful swig before licking his lips and arching one of his dark brows.

“What? This is good shit.”

Reaching for the half empty bottle sitting on the island, you let out a soft laugh and went in for a refill. The relaxing effects of the wine had clearly already reached your brain, and before it could catch up with your mouth, you blurted out your next question like it couldn’t possibly ruin the mood.

“Was this your wife’s favorite?”

Frank didn’t clam up like you had expected given his behavior earlier. Instead, he glanced down at the glass in his hand for a moment before shaking his head with a tiny smile gracing the curve of his lips.

“Nah, friend of mine’s wife got me into this stuff.”

Frank took a moment to stare down into the glass, as if there was a fond memory appearing in the bubbles. Clearing his throat, he took another large swig of the wine and set the nearly empty glass down on the island.

“She uh…she liked white wine.”

For some reason, Frank’s casual admission sent a flush of velour warmth through you. Whatever barrier that had prevented Frank from speaking freely earlier seemed to be somewhat dismantled, and this was the first time he had ever spoken voluntarily about his wife that hadn’t left a heavy fog of grief lingering over either of you. A tender smile stretched across your lips as you lifted your glass up in a silent toast.

“My kinda woman. What was her favorite?”

Frank leaned over the island on his elbows, holding the delicate glass in both of his strong hands. The amber lighting in the kitchen made his eyes look like swirls of melted chocolate, and you resisted the urge to lean in closer when he finally looked at you with a faint smile tugging at the left edge of his mouth.

“Pinot Grigio.”

A huge grin stretched across your lips at his answer, and you shook your head faintly as you light heartedly pointed your right index finger towards Frank and lifted your glass to your lips.

“Oh I bet I could’ve easily converted her to a sauvignon blanc girl. There’s this brand from Chile that makes the best blanc, and she would’ve loved it.”

For a moment Frank simply observed you in silent fondness. When you set your glass down, his eyes flickered to his own, and he made a quiet noise of recognition in his throat before speaking quietly.

“She woulda liked you.”

That single sentiment held more weight and significant meaning to you than anything anyone else had ever said to you. A tight lump formed in your throat as those words echoed in your head, and you felt the overwhelming urge to make this intimate moment just as special for Frank, but with the alcohol in your system you couldn’t convey your feelings as eloquently.

“My mom would’ve annoyed you.”

Frank immediately started howling with laughter, turning his head to look at you with squinted eyes in incredulous amusement.

“What?”

“I mean she would have loved you, no doubt about that, but she probably would’ve annoyed you. And definitely hit on you. She was like me, only she had way less of a filter and absolutely zero shame. I think my being nosey and stubborn was genetic, but she took it to a whole other level. Did you know I used to be really quiet?”

Frank’s thick brows lifted in surprise, but you didn’t give him a chance to respond. The rosé was acting as a truth serum, and you couldn’t stop yourself from rambling.

“I was. I was very quiet, and extremely cautious, compliments of my careless mother. She wasn’t really careless, I mean she loved me, she was just a bit reckless, but not in a bad way. Like not a I-need-therapy-for-the-rest-of-my-life way but more of a she-had-me-at-sixteen-and-we-grew-up-together way. You know that I was such a bookworm that she practically begged me to be rebellious and hang out with someone other than her or the local librarian? And she’s the whole reason I wanted to go to Columbia, because she wanted to go to Columbia, but you can’t go to Columbia with a baby and no high school degree, and I don’t know why I’m telling you all this, and I probably should have shut up ten minutes ago, but anyway my mom would’ve liked you but definitely annoyed you more than me.”

Those newfound beloved crinkles were once again decorating Frank’s eyes as he chuckled heartily at your rambling. He downed the rest of his own wine before setting the empty glass down, flashing you a crooked grin as he loosely gestured in your direction with his chin.

“I’m sure I woulda liked Lorelai just as much as I do you.”

There was a skip in your heart’s rhythm, partly because he finally admitted that he liked you as a person, but more so when you realized that Frank remembered your mother’s name. It tugged at your heartstrings, because it was such a simple gesture, but also because it reminded you just how much you missed your mother.

“I forget sometimes.”

Frank tilted his head to the side slightly when your soft voice settled in the space between the two of you, and his playful grin slowly vanished as he watched while you stared blankly down into your glass, clearly lost in your own thoughts.

“Forget what?”

“That she’s gone.”

There was a slight tremble to your voice as you looked up at Frank with a miniscule sad smile. The empathy in his eyes was almost too much to bear, and you had to look away to keep your composure from crumbling. Turning your head to the left, you took a moment to observe the layout and minimalist decor in the kitchen while letting out a shaky exhale.

“Sometimes I go to call her…just…on my way home from work, you know? Just to talk to her, hear the latest small town gossip, tell her about the latest coffee shop I’ve found that she absolutely has to try when she comes to visit next. There’s even been times I’ve left her voicemails. I’ll be so wrapped up in something and wanna vent to her, and then I’ll start to wonder why she hasn’t called back yet, and then it’ll just…hit me.”

Frank stayed quiet while he listened sympathetically, and the entire cabin was silent apart from the quiet sizzling coming from the stovetop until you gently spoke up again.

“Do you forget too?”

Finally looking over at Frank again, you watched as he lighty dragged his palm down the lower half of his face. While he glanced down at the smooth mahogany countertop, he clasped his large hands together while still resting on his elbows.

“I don’t forget she’s gone, but I uh…I’ve started forgettin’ things. I can’t remember what her perfume smelled like…or what her favorite song was. I can hear it sometimes, ya’know? Every now and then I get these…bits and pieces. Sometimes I can hear her hummin’ it in the kitchen, but it ain’t long enough to remember what song it was, ya’know? Everythin’ started gettin’ fuzzy…and I remember more things I wanna forget than things I actually wanna remember.”

There was a stretch of silence where neither of you spoke. Eventually, Frank straightened up and turned his back to you to walk back over towards the stove. Even though you knew it might not be the right time to ask, there was a question that had been burning in the back of your mind since the night of the gala.

“Frank?”

He hummed quietly in response, turning his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder as he gave you his full attention.

“What was her name?”

The softness of your question clearly caught him off guard, and you could see the hesitation lingering in Frank’s eyes. Worried that you had crossed the line and completely ruined the moment, you were about to hastily backtrack and tell him that he didn’t have to answer when Frank let out a deep exhale through his large nose, touching his index and middle finger over his chest most likely where his wedding band sat beneath his shirt.

“Maria.”

A minuscule smile covered the edge of your mouth as you tilted your head slightly to the side and tried out her name on your tongue.

“Maria. Is this her recipe?”

Frank's eyes flickered over towards the pans and the pot of boiling pasta that were still on the stove. After a moment, he nodded his head and turned his attention back to you with a tender look in his eyes.

“Penne all'Arrabbiata con Manzo. Her grandmother was Sicilian, just like my parents were. She made this every time I came home from a tour.”

The significance and sentiment behind the recipe Frank was cooking made your heart feel like it was going to burst out of your ribcage. Quickly topping off Frank’s empty glass with more wine, you carefully got down from the bar stool that you were sitting on and rounded the island to make your way over to Frank. As you offered him the half full glass of wine, Frank’s eyes flickered curiously between it and your own gaze while his large hand reached out to wrap his fingers around the glass. Smiling softly up at him, you lifted your own glass slightly in the air.

“Well then, to Maria.”

There was a sudden luminescence to Frank’s warm brown eyes, but you didn’t get a chance to study it long before he nodded slightly and his lips stretched faintly into a tiny smile as he delicately clinked his glass against yours and repeated your toast in a more delicate volume of his deep voice.

“To Maria.”

»»———　　———««

“You’re fired.”

Hearty laughter boomed from deep within Frank’s chest and echoed over the crackling firewood currently blazing. He adjusted his position on the couch a few inches away from you, his features highlighted due to the radiant flames cascading from the fireplace in a contorted expression of skepticism and entertainment.

“What? Why?”

“I have known you for seven months, Castle. Seven. Months. And I’m just now finding out you have the culinary skills of a five star chef. Unacceptable. Unforgivable. I’m calling Billy first thing in the morning.”

You couldn’t hardly get through your own sentence without bursting into a fit of laughter, and Frank was in no better shape as he threw his head back against the couch and clutched at his chest with his hand that wasn’t holding his third glass of wine. There were nearly three empty bottles between the two of you forgotten on the dining table, and this was the most loose you had ever seen Frank. Maybe you should get him tipsy more often.

“You can’t fire me.”

“And why not?”

“Cause I ain’t assigned to you no more, brat.”

While Frank teased you nonchalantly as he sipped at his glass and watched the flames dance across the firewood, his words instantly sobered you up. He was right. The Defenders of Freedom had been caught, Steven was facing trial, and there was no reason for Frank to stick around anymore. It was a revelation you had been trying to ignore for the past twenty-four hours. A wave of uncertainty crashed over you in that moment. What would happen between you and Frank? When would he get assigned to someone else? Would that take him far away from you? How long could you stay in this little bubble outside reality?

Glancing down at the wounds in your palm that had steadily begun to heal, you lightly traced your thumb over the raised irritated edges as a thought suddenly flashed across your mind.

“I never thanked you.”

Even though your voice was barely above a whisper, Frank caught it, and he turned his head to look at you intently with slightly confused brows.

“For what?”

Closing your eyes for a moment, you shook your head faintly before looking back at Frank with subtle remorse.

“For everything you’ve done for me. For saving my life, more than once, and-”

Frank instantly brushed off your gratitude with a shake of his own head, reaching over to place his glass of wine on the coffee table in front of the couch.

“It’s my job-”

“No. Your job was to keep me safe, but you did so much more than that. You dealt with all of my shit, fixed every problem I created, and even when Homeland pulled you away, you still showed up for me. Frank, I would be dead if it wasn’t for you. You saved me from those guys at the bar, you saved me from Cavella and Walker, and…you’re still saving me, even now. I could’ve gone to a safe house with Dinah, but you brought me here, even though I’m not your problem anymore-”

Frank reached for your glass of wine and firmly set it on the coffee table, effectively catching your attention while he started almost directly into your soul with a serious expression.

“Hey, you have never been a problem. Ever. You got that?”

There were so many emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface for seven months that you hadn’t been processing, and now they seemed to be rising to a level you could no longer ignore. The verity in Frank’s voice nearly had tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, and you just wanted answers. Why did he care so much? Why was he still protecting you? Why were you here right now?

“Frank…you could’ve walked away. There were so many times you could’ve walked away. Why…why did you stay?”

A substantial weight felt like it had finally been lifted off your chest as you asked the one question that had been lingering in your bones for weeks now. Although that weight was replaced by a lead filled sense of dread while you waited with anxious anticipation for a response, knowing was better than not knowing.

Frank’s deep brown eyes stared so fiercely into your own, that you felt vulnerably stripped bare despite the clothing covering your body. When he reached his left hand over to place on your jean clad thigh, he grasped it firmly and leaned in just close enough so that you couldn’t escape the enrapture of his gaze.

“I want you to listen to me, right now. I’m always gonna keep you safe, you got that? Job or no job.”

The intensity burning in his eyes and the dropped octave of his rough voice nearly stunned you silent. Your lips parted slightly as if to speak, but your fogged brain struggled to form a coherent sentence. This was the closest you had been to Frank since you had climbed onto his lap in his truck, and you were fighting so hard to not let history repeat itself. But that look…that one goddamn look you could never decipher was roaring fervently in his gaze again, and you were going absolutely mad not knowing what it meant.

Before you even realized what you were doing, you found yourself leaning in closer, staring deeply into Frank’s warm brown eyes with a pleading look reflected in your own desperate stare. You wanted to know why. You needed to know why. And you were begging Frank for a confession that wasn’t encrypted.

“Why?”

“Because you’re mine to protect.”

The possessiveness that dripped from Frank’s low voice had you abruptly clenching your thighs together, trapping his thick fingers between your weakened knees. If he minded the entrapment at all, he didn’t show it. The blaze of the fireplace was no longer what had the temperature steadily rising within your body, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Frank’s vigorous and unwavering stare. Your mouth suddenly felt dry, and even though you had a million questions clamoring through your brain, all you could manage to get out in a hoarse whisper was one you needed confirmation on.

“I am?”

Frank retracted his large hand from your thigh, raising it up slowly to carefully grab your face. A few of his long fingers curled around the back of your neck while his index and middle finger rested along the underside of your jaw, and his thumb pressed lightly against your chin. His heated gaze dropped to your lips momentarily before flickering back up to meet your eyes, and that fire in them was burning bright enough for God herself to see.

“You’re goddamn right.”

Without another word, Frank pulled you in for a searing kiss, pressing his soft lips against yours tentatively but with enough passion to make his answer crystal clear. A delicate noise of surprise sounded in the back of your throat, and for a moment you nearly stopped breathing. If that first kiss in Frank’s truck was a rare comet bursting across the sky, this one felt like a supernova erupting in a kaleidoscope of colors and stardust exploding across the expanse of the universe.

Even as he retracted his lips just a bit to stare deeply into your eyes to gauge your reaction, his hand gently cradling your face kept you firmly in place. All you could do was stare at Frank in complete stupefaction. Your lips were fervently tingling and your body felt like it had been struck by lightning. Frank’s eyes were searching yours for an answer he seemed to desperately need judging by the way his other hand lightly squeezed at your waist.

“If I’m crossin’ a line, you gotta tell me now. Cause I can’t go back, sweetheart.”

The tender emotion entwined within his words nearly made it sound like Frank was begging for your answer, and suddenly it all clicked. You could never figure it out before, but now as you stared at him in complete wonder and paid close attention to his display of vulnerability, you were finally able to decode that cryptic look in Frank’s eyes.

Desire.

“I don’t wanna go back.”

That breathless confession was all Frank needed, and he seemed to groan in relief when you surged forward to capture his lips with renewed vigor. Frank was so much more engaged in this kiss, and you took that as a good sign to give in to every single temptation. Before you could even think about climbing onto his lap, Frank was three steps ahead of you, and his large hands were firmly gripping onto your hips and effortlessly pulling you over to straddle his hips. Frank’s hands were everywhere; kneading at your denim covered thighs, gripping tightly onto your waist, carding his fingers through your hair and grasping at the back of your head to keep you as close as physically possible.

You cupped his face firmly in your hands and seductively swiped your tongue along his bottom lip begging for entrance, causing a low growl to resonate from deep within Frank’s chest, and his large hands suddenly squeezed your ass tightly through your jeans while you moaned when his taste met your tongue. The taste of Frank was much sharper this time, and you felt far more intoxicated by him than the three bottles of wine the two of you had consumed together.

Even with your chest pressed firmly against his own, it felt like you couldn’t physically be close enough. You wanted to be entirely consumed by Frank, to completely melt into the warmth of his skin and breathe his essence into your lungs. The synchronization of your lips and tongues molding together was impeccable, and the world outside ceased to exist while the two of you began to unravel one another.

An overwhelming surge of impatience had you nearly shredding his black henley with your nails while you fervently shoved it up his toned chest, eagerly caressing the scarred canvas of his tan skin with your fingertips like you had been daydreaming about doing since that night in the motel. He didn’t hesitate to teasingly brush his thumbs along the sliver of exposed skin above your hips before pushing your shirt up your waist and over your head. While you tore it off quickly and carelessly discarded it behind you, Frank dove in to attach his lips to the sensitive skin on your neck, dragging his warm and wet tongue along the column of it before gently biting down on the juncture above your collarbone.

A soft moan slipped past your lips and you instinctively rocked your hips against Frank’s lap, coaxing a deep grunt from his chest. He left a searing trail of kisses along your shoulder, the rough pads of his fingers softly tugging the straps of your bra down your arms before splaying both of his large hands against your lower back to pull you further against his own chest. Frank nuzzled his large nose along your neck and whispered huskily into your ear.

“This alright?”

“Yes.”

Unfiltered lust clouded your vision a deep shade of crimson, and you blindly clawed at Frank’s belt while he continued his blazing path of kisses along your jawline and down your neck towards your chest. All of a sudden, his large hands clasped around your wrists gently to halt your movements, and he pulled back a bit to stare deeply into your eyes while panting slightly.

“Sweetheart, there ain’t no rush.”

“Frank, please.”

The desperate plea that sounded from your lips seemed to ignite a brand new fire within Frank, and your consent shredded that last strand of hesitation that was holding him back. He placed his large hands against your ass and lifted you effortlessly in the air, and you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist. Frank easily navigated around the coffee table and slowly knelt down on the fluffy cream colored rug in front of the fireplace, carefully laying you down onto your back. This time when you tugged the leather of his belt away from the buckle, he didn’t stop you, and instead his own deft fingers made lightning work in ridding you of your own jeans.

Slipping one of his hands underneath your back, he easily unhooked your bra with his thumb and index finger, and the second your bare chest was exposed to him, Frank firmly grasped one of your breasts in his calloused hand and took your peaked nipple into his mouth. Your lips parted widely feeling the jolt of pleasure that had you arching your back slightly when he swirled his warm tongue around the sensitive and stiff bud while gently sinking his teeth into the flesh of your breast.

The sensation elicited a series of breathless whimpers to leave your mouth, and Frank grunted lowly in response as you rolled your hips upwards in search of friction, feeling the heavy heat of his hardened cock against your lower stomach through the thin cotton of his briefs. It was a marvel you hadn’t flooded the cabin with how turned on you currently were, and this wasn’t even scratching the surface of what Frank was going to do to you. You gripped at his bulging biceps, his broad shoulders, dark tufts of his disheveled hair, anything you could get your hands on to keep him close to you.

Frank began to slowly descend your body, placing his hands firmly on your sides while leaving warm and wet open mouthed kisses down your stomach, even licking a teasing bold stripe above your belly button. The sight alone nearly made your eyes roll into the back of your head and caused you to whine softly, knowing exactly where his next destination was. But as much as you wanted to have Frank’s mouth on you, and God did you want it, you weren’t sure you could stand another second of not knowing what it felt like to have him inside you.

After he slipped your panties down your legs and tossed them aside, you gave his messy cropped curls a gentle tug to get his attention before he could spread your thighs and settle his broad shoulders between the apex of them. Frank glanced up to meet your gaze, his warm brown eyes nearly as black as the coffee he’d consumed this morning due to how wide his pupils were blown open. The hunger eclipsing them caused you to shudder, and you took a mental image of the sight of him nearly naked between your thighs staring at you like a ravenous wolf salivating at the sight of a vulnerable lamb.

“Please, Frank…I need you. I wanna feel you now…please.”

The two of you seemed to be stuck in the same conundrum, caught in tandem between wanting to savor the moment you had both waited so long for, and also wanting to give into the impulses of your magnetizing desire.

As much as you could see in his hungry expression that he wanted to take his time, to devour you slowly and worship every inch of you, the distress dripping from your breathless plea triggered his own raging need, and he silently obeyed while moving upwards again to hover over your body, capturing your lips in a deeply passionate kiss while you ardently pushed his briefs down his hips and off completely. Frank settled between your hips, displacing his heavy body weight by supporting himself on his forearms that were locked on either side of your head. You were completely caged in and at his mercy beneath him, but that was exactly where you wanted to be.

Frank searched your gaze ardently once again for any sign of hesitation, his dark eyes roaming up and down your face before his tongue quickly darted out to wet his lips.

“We can call it here, ya’know? No hard feelin’s. I can-”

Reaching a hand up to gently hold the side of his face, you placed your thumb against his plump lips to cut off the velvet timbre of his whisper.

“Frank, I want this. I want you. But if you don’t-”

“I do. You got no idea how much I do. But…I want it to be right, yeah?”

A gentle smile covered your lips while gazing up at him in complete adoration.

“Doesn’t this feel right?”

Frank’s eyes flickered between your own and he subtly nodded his head, glancing down at your lips briefly before looking directly into your eyes again.

“Yeah…yeah it does.”

Frank leaned in to capture your lips in a sensual kiss, and the second he nudged the blunt head of his thick cock within your entrance, a sharp gasp flew past your lips and it felt like all the wind had been knocked right out of your lungs. He groaned quietly and nuzzled his large nose against the column of your neck, firmly grasping at your thigh and pulling your leg up and around his waist while he pushed in deeper slowly, one inch at a time.

While your nails instinctively dug fiercely into the muscle of his shoulders, no doubt leaving deep maroon crescent shaped indentations behind, Frank paused for a moment and snaked his hand down between your bodies, lightly brushing the rough pad of his thumb in lazy circles over your clit to help your body relax. You had been soaked through your panties from the moment your lips met, but Frank’s girth wasn’t one your walls had accommodated before, and he did his best to ease the sting of the burning stretch with stimulated pleasure.

“Frank…”

As soon as your hips connected completely and Frank was fully nestled within your tight heat, your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head, and your jaw became completely unhinged as you let out a smooth legato moan. You felt Frank’s body tense above you while he buried his face into your neck, letting out a quiet hiss as he breathed out a shaky deep exhale.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, sweetheart.”

“Oh my God…Frank-”

“I know baby, I know. Gimme a second.”

You don’t know how long it was before Frank finally started moving his hips. Seconds. Minutes. Hours. All you knew was that you had never felt so full and so complete in your entire life.

Letting out a quiet shudder, Frank slowly retracted his hips just a bit before cresting against you once again like a gentle tide. He removed his face from your neck so he could stare down into your eyes to watch your face, and you gazed up at him with wide-eyed passion and marvel. You brought your other leg up to also wrap around his waist and wrapped your arms securely around his neck, trapping Frank against your body just as much as you were beneath his.

Frank reached between your chests with his right hand and gripped his wedding band between his thumb and index finger, tossing it and the chain over his back so there was nothing separating the two of you, just his heated skin pressed firmly against yours. Bringing your hands upwards, your trembling fingers weaved through his hair, tugging somewhat roughly at the messy cropped dark strands on top of his head when he began to languidly increase his pace.

It was like you couldn’t speak. Your mouth hung open while you stared up into Frank’s warm brown eyes that seemed to gleam from the amber glow of the fire, but nothing came out except echoes of the pleasure he handcrafted. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, watching in awe as his plump lips parted from panting heavily, his eyes becoming hooded from streams of ecstasy racing through his bloodstream. He gazed down into your eyes in complete adoration, gently stroking his index and middle finger down your cheekbone delicately as you stared up at him with parted lips and pleading eyes.

Frank brought his left hand up to gently brush your hair away from your forehead, cradling the back of your head while his right one came up once again to gently grab your face. Although this time, his index finger rested along your jawline while his thumb and other fingers laced around your throat carefully, which nearly sent you into a frenzy. He leaned in to teasingly slip his tongue into your mouth, kissing you with such ferocity as if he craved the very breath in your lungs.

Frank vacillated his hips repeatedly against your own in a steady rhythm, but with a meticulous precision that revealed new depths with your body even you weren’t aware of. Every sensual thrust wound that tense coil within you tighter and tighter, and it was only a matter of time before you erupted into gratified pieces of confetti. Reaching a shaky hand up to grip onto the back of his neck, your fingertips vibrated as they brushed over the close shaven hair on the back of his head, and you pulled him down forcefully for another deeply passionate kiss.

Only when your lungs began to burn due to lack of oxygen did you finally break apart. He leaned in to press his forehead against yours, gazing so deeply into your eyes you swore he could see right into your soul. You stared back up into Frank’s eyes as yours became glossy due to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure you were experiencing. His coarse grunts and reverberating groans echoing in your ears had your toes curling, and as your mouth hung open in silent begging, you nodded swiftly with an expression that let Frank know you felt it too.

“Please…please…”

That familiar bubble of euphoria was starting to expand wider and wider within your lower belly and you weren’t sure how much longer you had before it burst. The way Frank fit perfectly within your body was unlike anything you had ever experienced before, and you were stuck on the cusp of never wanting it to end, but also wanting to see just how far it could go. You had never been with someone that seemed to be so finely in tune with your body, or that genuinely cared about your satisfaction, but Frank was treating your pussy as if he had designed it specifically for himself. The realization of knowing you wouldn’t have to finish yourself off later like you had to with your exes was a welcomed relief, but not knowing what brink of indulgence Frank was about to catapult you over was exhilarating.

“Frank…Frank…”

“S’alright, baby, I know. Let me have it, yeah? C’mon baby, let go for me.”

A soft whimper slipped past your lips. You were so close, and God you wanted so badly to jump head first into the free fall. But a tiny part of you felt frustrated because you wanted to witness Frank free fall too. You wanted to see him let go, hear his praises of your name, and be coherent enough to feel Frank lose himself.

But you would have to wait your turn, because Frank was sending you barreling towards the edge of an orgasm with every punctual and powerful snap of his hips, and you had no choice but to surrender to the heat of his body enveloping yours in a cocoon of pure warmth and safety.

Frank grabbed both of your smaller hands and laced your fingers together, giving them a tight squeeze as a tangible reminder he was right there with you. He pinned them gently on the soft rug above your head, his pace becoming a bit sloppy as he began to lose his own composure.

“Look at me, sweetheart. Let me see them pretty eyes, c’mon. Let me see ‘em.”

You struggled to keep your eyes open until you physically couldn’t, wanting to witness every second of Frank’s own impending climax contorting his features as he fought to control himself until you were ready to let go.

“There ya go, attagirl. Let go for me, sweetheart. S’alright, let me have it, yeah?”

A symphony of his name played from your lips at a steady crescendo until it filled the entirety of the cabin, and all at once a flash of white exploded behind your eyes as you free fell through space and time, floating in a cloud composed of Frank’s honeyed praises of your name and delicate sweet nothings. You’d given yourself powerful orgasms before but you had never felt something so intense as the delectation Frank created. It felt like you were floating between the astral space between Heaven and Earth, and you weren’t sure you could find your way back to your physical body again.

There was a faint amber glow flickering across your closed lids, and as you slipped in and out of coherence, you felt soft lips delicately pressing against your forehead and the edge of rough fingers gently stroking along your cheekbone lovingly. You didn’t want to move, you weren’t even sure if you could, but there was one thing you did want.

“Frank?”

The voice that resonated in your ears was fuzzy and distant, and it didn’t even sound like it belonged to you. A strong pair of arms wrapped securely around you, pulling you in from your stranded orbit closer towards where you were meant to be, and Frank’s soothing gruff voice quietly dripped a sacred promise into your ear.

“M’here.”

The hypnotic lullaby of his heart’s rhythm tethered you back to the dreamlike reality of Frank holding you against his chest, and that was all you needed to slip away under the blanket of stars that were dancing behind your eyes.

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawkfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

#frank castle #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #frank castle smut #frank castle series #the bodyguard series #bodyguard!frank castle fic #bodyguard!frank castle series #bodyguard!frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher fic #the punisher smut #the punisher series

901 notes · View notes

lowgothree · 2 months

Text

009. ༺ALWAYS, ALWAYS༻∘

a/n: last chapter why am i kinda sad, lol😬

summary: after getting unexpectedly left by your roommate, you find yourself in need of a replacement.

contents: happy ending 🥳. smut (am i going to hell for this? idk probably). reader is damn near mute at the start. they're both so very down bad. l-bombs. this is almost double the length of the other chapters so y'all better love me.

previous. next. masterlist.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

she half expected you to shut the door in her face. she wouldn’t have blamed you if you did — but you didn’t. you opened the door and you’re listening.

what she thought she could get from olivia, that same thing she’d been craving and fighting for years, she gets so easily with you. just by your eyes meeting hers. you’re looking at her again — albeit in annoyance and hurt — but it’s still you and it’s still her. how it’s supposed to be. and there it is again. that feeling she had been uselessly chasing with olivia –– that pull. a feeling she only gets with you. she’s addicted to it. the way her heart begins to beat faster, how her eyes seem to be fixated on your pretty face, the way her body reposes in the wake of you. she feels so alive when she’s near you.

she whispers your name, unlike the last time you’d heard her say it –– guilt ridden and shameful –– she says it in pure relief. her shoulders visibly relax when you don’t shut the door on her. she visibly relaxes at just the sight of you. as if her time away from her took away her ability to breathe and seeing you again, right in front of her and beautifully you, gave her back her air.

“she isn’t you…” paige repeats, longing for you to say something. anything.

“what do you want me to say, paige?” you roll your eyes. “you want her? go have her.”

“i don’t.” she shakes her head, stepping forward, close enough that she could almost feel that familiar warmth of your body again. “i want you.”

her gaze disrupts any calm you might’ve felt. her words cleave the quiet. it leaves you silent. completely silent.

“you were right. i was running…because i was scared.” she swallows thickly and you pause. she was scared? “but i’m not afraid anymore. i’m done running. i’m here and i won’t leave again. never again.”

“scared of what?” you almost don’t recognize your own voice, too in shock to process your words before they leave the gap between your lips.

“of this.” she gestures between the two of you. “i’ve never felt the way i do when i’m with you before. i just want another chance. i want to be yours and i want to spend the rest of my life making this up to you.”

you hold your breath, remembering just how much you missed her. you missed her touch, her smell, her face, and the way she looked at you. you’re frozen at her words, at the tender look of desperation she gives you but you shake your head despite yourself. “i can’t be with you if you aren’t sure…”

the statement makes her heart sink. she had brought this on herself, she knew that. but it didn’t make it hurt any less. she doesn't like that she was the source of your anguish, it pained her. she’ll do anything to take that pain away.

the frown on your face said it all; that she’d hurt you, that you were upset, and that you cared about her. that’s what she had relied on. it gives her the courage to reach out and touch you, to give herself that closeness she’d been craving since the minute she left. she grabs your waist and smiles at the way your body recognizes her touch. “i’m sure.”

suddenly your mouth felt dry. sure, you had played this exact scenario over and over again in your head but you never expected it to actually happen. so you stay silent, desperately searching for words that never leave your mouth.

“baby, i promise. i’m so sure. please.” she stresses, she’s sure.

you’re staring at her, in shock and heart pounding, having a mental debate. holy shit say something. anything. but you can’t.

“just let me fix it…” she leans in, testing to see if you’ll pull away. you don’t. “let me deserve you.”

you nod, finally able to speak again. finding yourself unable to deny her –– to deny yourself. “okay..”

and then she leans in more, letting her lips take their place on yours. she pulls you even closer and you walk backwards into the apartment, paige shuts the door behind herself. she pulls away from the kiss to smile at you.

“i love you…” she whispers and you pause again, body almost malfunctioning. she what??

paige takes your silence as discomfort and immediately backs away from you with widened eyes. “oh…um, i’m sorry –– i mean, it’s true but you don’t have to say it back or anything i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable i just, fuck.”

you grab her hand, smiling softly at her. every hair on your body standing in the wake of her confession. “i love you too…”

at that moment paige feels almost every emotion; happiness at your words, anger at herself for running from this, guilt because she had hurt you. but you kiss all those thoughts away until her brain can only ideate one concrete picture: you. always you.

she can’t help it, she grabs your face and presses her lips to yours again. your kiss is hesitant. on one hand, she doesn’t deserve to taste you after what she’d done to you. on the other hand, she tastes so good. fuck, she taste like yours.

she wanted to atone, to show you that she’d realized the error in her ways. she wanted you to forgive her completely for letting her fears hurt you. because you taught her something she’d never dreamed of learning before you. you taught her how to pay homage.

“you know what else i missed?” she whispers in your ear making you laugh despite yourself. paige could always take the edge off. always able to make you laugh no matter the circumstances.

“i’m sure i could guess…” you let your hand reach underneath the hem of her hoodie so you could feel the bare skin of her waist. she laughs too, with her whole chest and it’s beautiful. you’re just staring at her, basking in her euphoria and your heart swells. you’re in love bad. “you’re so pretty…” you mumble, unable to stop yourself.

she smiles wide, all teeth and red cheeks. “stop…”

you shake your head. “no…you’re my girlfriend now so i can call you pretty as much i want to.”

her grin only seems to widen if possible and you can’t help but mirror it. “i love hearing that…”

“yeah?”

“mhm…i love hearing pretty much anything you say but especially that.” she kisses your jaw and you bring your hand from under her shirt to the back of her neck. “my girlfriend…” she whispers in awe and it makes you laugh again.

she starts to kiss your neck and your laughter immediately ceases. you also missed the sex. a lot.

you hold onto her for stability as your breathing quickens. “you never…told me what that other thing you missed was?”

“thought you were gonna guess?”

“i said i could guess.” you hum, pulling her face from your neck so you could hover your lips over hers. “but i wanna hear you say it.”

“well, you just forgave me so i wasn’t sure if it was a good time –– ”

“what do you have against makeup sex?” you tilt your head and she laughs. she doesn’t respond immediately but she places a chaste kiss on your mouth before she sucks in a breath.

“your room or mine?”

you don’t even answer her question. it doesn’t really matter, but hers is closer. you kiss her again as you back into her bedroom.

she always liked being this close to you. close enough to hear your heavy breathing and to feel the warmth of your skin under her palms. she pulls you even closer. she gently pushes you down onto her bed, straddling you. “did you miss having me like this, baby?”

you shudder, nodding. “mhm…” and then you take a good look at her attire. “are you hot?”

she smirks. “you tell me.”

you roll your eyes. “you’re annoying.”

paige chuckles but nods. “yeah…normally it’s cold as shit in this apartment but for some reason it’s literally hell in here.”

“ac broke. and you’re kinda overdressed.” you lay back on her comforter, rubbing her thighs. “i’m surprised you didn’t say anything sooner. you love to complain.”

“i just got everything i want…i have nothing to complain about.” she smiles and then groans, not thinking twice about taking her hoodie off. “gotta get that fixed, babe…” she starts kissing up your neck and then tugs at your shirt for you to take it off.

you lift it over your head with a hum before laying back down so she can resume her kisses. “yeah. maintenance guy comes tomorrow.”

“good.” she nods in acknowledgement. “take off your pants.”

“i wanna touch you first…” you whisper but paige just shakes her head.

“no…i want to give you a proper apology.”

you chuckle. “well, i’m not gonna say no.”

you watch her body in anticipation as she climbs off of you and slowly takes your pants off. she settles between your legs, locking her arms around your waist to keep you pressed firmly down into the bed and your breathing quickens. she kisses your stomach and then both your thighs, sucking little reminders into the soft flesh so that you can remember how she felt tomorrow. it makes you squirm but her grip never falters.

“stop teasing.” you buck your hips but she holds you there. that’s another thing you loved about paige. she’s so strong. when she finally does put her mouth where you want it, she’s lazing about it. but still exact.

she eats you out with precision only a woman begging for forgiveness could have. you can’t help the sounds you’re making but you’re far too turned on to be embarrassed by them.

it’s all you can do to slump in her hold and just watch her, the way her mouth devours you and the way her eyes watch your every reaction. the sight is so lewd you could cum from just watching her work.

“feels so good…” you mewl, clinging to the bed sheets so hard your fingers cramp. she looks up at you, reaching for your hand to lace your fingers with hers.

she knows it does. she learned exactly how to please you and she was proud of that. she knew exactly how you liked it.

she knows when you’re about to come. almost before you do. she makes sure to continue doing exactly what she’s doing because she knows that’s what you’d be begging her for if you could speak right now. but she’s happy all you can do is be pretty and take it. take her apology and cling onto her.

she rides it out for you, only pulling away when you’re too sensitive for her to keep going. she smiles at you. it’s smug.

“shut up…” your chest is heaving and there’s a thin layer of sweat coating your skin. she feels almost prideful that she did that to you. she gets the sudden, intense desire to touch you so she does. she reaches up to caress your cheek.

“so beautiful…” her voice is starstruck again and you chuckle tiredly.

“enough.” you whisper tiredly. “come here…your turn.”

she slowly moves closer to you, you lick your lips when you notice how red she is. how turned on she is just from pleasing you.

you help her out of her pants, and then you sit up so she can straddle you again. she hovers over you and you stare at her for a moment. “what do you want?”

she knows better than to be shy about it. she trusts you too much to be shy about it. “your fingers. please.”

you can’t help but snicker.

“please? when did you get manners?”

“i’ve always had manners.” she mutters.

“you sure about that?”

she nods, eyes sparkling at you and you poorly attempt to bite back a smile.

“cute…but save it for azzi or something.” you chuckle before you circle her clit with two fingers. she immediately groans and the sound is mesmerizing. “feel good?”

she nods again and you don’t even try to hide your smile this time. “how good?”

she sucks in a deep breath when you pick up your pace a little. “really good. don’t stop.”

“wasn’t planning on it.”

“i kinda expected you to get me all worked up and then leave me like this as punishment.” she half laughs, half whimpers.

“hmm…i didn’t think about that. maybe i should just –– “ you slip your fingers away from her and she whines but you chuckle softly. “i’m just kidding…i’d never do that to you.”

“and miss a chance to torture me? i don’t believe you.” she can barely speak in full sentences with how good your hand feels on her.

“and miss a chance to see how pretty you look when you come?” you mock her tone of voice when you rebuttal. “never.”

she moans, something she rarely does and this time it’s your turn to be smug. she hides her face in your neck, embarrassed by how quickly you can weaken her.

as much as you want to make her look at you, you don’t want to embarrass her further so you just move your fingers harder against her.

“you smell really good…” paige mutters in between soft moans and then she cringes. “sorry, that’s probably weird to say right now.”

you dismiss her, fingers never changing pace. “no…it’s okay. thank you. you’re really sweet when you wanna be.”

“i’m always sweet.” her voice is practically slurred as she starts to feel the knots building up in her stomach. “i’m so close…”

you keep going until her legs start shaking, pulling your hand away from her and kissing her sweetly.

she pushes you to lay down again so she can wrap her arm around you and cuddle you. for a moment, you’re both silent. just settling in the afterglow, kissing softly here and there and smiling at each other. until you speak.

“you know…” you pant against her lips, she rubs your thighs and hums as you pull away slightly to talk. “i’ve wanted you since you moved in here…”

“yeah? why didn’t you say anything?” she chuckles, pulling you impossibly closer.

“i don’t know. so many reasons.” you stare into her eyes, meeting her smile. she leans in to kiss your jaw and then whispers in your ears.

“name a few.”

you roll your eyes, they’re all obvious. “olivia for starters –– ” she groans, hiding her face in your neck which makes you laugh. “plus, i didn’t wanna rock the boat.”

she shakes her head, pulling back to look you in the eyes. her voice is pure silk when she whispers softly, “from the moment i first saw you…that ship sailed.”

you snicker, putting a hand over paige’s face. “cheesy…”

“you love it.” she kisses your neck again. “you love me.”

you nod in agreement but that isn’t enough. most likely, it never will be. she lets her hands trail your waist exploratorily. “say it.”

you shudder at the command in her voice. even if you could deny her, why would you want to?

“i love you...”

#rock the boat!#paige bueckers x reader #god i'm so awkward abt this chapter too!!#might deactivate my whole shit rn #we'll see

231 notes · View notes

lostinforestbound · 11 days

Text

Oh boy howdy I've been thinking about the wizard a lot so here we go! I'm aware this is out of nowhere but I got inspired after reading some of his dialogue in-game!

My General Rolan Headcanons

Touched-Starved. If you searched up the word touch-starved and look at the photos, it would be this man's face. He hasn't experienced a kind touch outside from his siblings in a very long time.

Rolan is a lip biter! When anxious or frustrated, he bites and chews at his own lips, sometimes to the point of bleeding. He never realizes it until he tastes blood on his tongue.

When Rolan isn't biting his lips, he's for sure biting his nails. It's mostly chewing, but if he's under a lot of stress, he'll bite them off.

He has chronic nightmares, specifically about Cal and Lia's his mother. It stems purely from his survival's guilt after she passed away, and he was left to take care of Cal and Lia by himself. The nightmares had a period of getting significantly worse during and after Lorroakan's abuse.

Speaking of their mother; they have miniature portraits of her. Cal gave him one a very long time ago, but he hasn't been able to look at it after her death. In his dreams, he never sees her face, but he sees her eyes. (I touched on what the nightmares would look like in my own fic)

His tiefling traits are very sensitive. His horns, upper tail, ears, everything. He allows no one to touch them at all (except a few trusted people, which includes Tav if they are together and his siblings)

To those who enjoy the headcannon of Tieflings purring: I would say Rolan's purr is pretty high in register, mostly noise than vibration. It's high in his throat rather than in his chest.

Tieflings run hot, but I would say Rolan runs a little colder than most tieflings. It's why he hates the cold so much, especially when it snows. He has to bundle up and it's incredibly irritating. Not to mention the cold already brings bad memories of he and his siblings struggles during the winter months.

He absolutely has a whole morning routine that he never changes after he gets settled in the tower. It's his one chance to pamper himself and feel good for a little bit. He'll clean his face, putting a form of moisturizer on and letting it sit as he brushes out his hair. He already has his outfit for the day set on the bed and waiting for when he gets out.

I definitely think Rolan developed some depression and/or a panic disorder after, well, everything he's been through (Or he's already had it and it got so much worse). At first he tries to get through it by himself, but unsurprisingly, it made it worse. After some stubbornness, he lets himself be helped by either Cal, Lia, or his partner.

The king of overworking. He'll wear himself down to the bone before he accepts going to bed and relaxing. He can't accept rest, not until he's done with this one last thing-

In general, Rolan loves fiercely. He loves Cal and Lia to death, and he would do anything for them. Gods forbid someone hurts them, the hells would rain fire that day. This goes the same for whoever his lucky partner is.

(If you have your own headcanons, please please please share them! I would love to hear them!)

#I'm feeding y'all until my fic drops later #forest-writes #rolan bg3 #rolan #bg3 rolan #holy rolan empire #rolan x tav #rolanites #rolan brainrot

196 notes · View notes

mysterystarz · 20 days

Text

kiss me maybe:

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

pairing: oikawa tooru x g!n reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A faint smile crept onto his face at the thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This sucked ass.

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

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

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

You could almost call it picturesque.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His presence had a way of putting you at ease.

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

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

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

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

What could be more human than that?

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

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

What the fuck. Who was he? A psychic?

“What did they do to you?”

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

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

Somehow the whole thing made you feel a lot better.

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

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

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

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

A grand gym and an even grander boy.

You just avoided him after that.

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

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

“Yeah, water under the bridge.”

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

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

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

“Well-“

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

“Okay. Water under the bridge for real.”

His eyes lit up. “You mean it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We always love the extra coverage.”

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

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

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

“Not true.” He huffed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your Canva page lay woefully blank before you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N?” A voice called, almost saccharine in the silence of your surroundings.

And there he was. Draped in the setting sun like a painted figure, cloaked in a veil of sunlight that skimmed his skin like silk. Oikawa’s eyes were almost honey colored in that lighting, and beneath the darkened shelves, he was almost a mystical apparition.

“Oikawa,” was all you said, cursing every possible force for him appearing now, looking like that, when you barely had anything to show for it.

“Kuroo told me you’d offered to help us put together some signs for the de-stress carnival.” Oikawa walked over, stepping away from the sunlight and placing his bag down at your table, opting for a seat across from you. “Which, in case you were wondering, I got approval for. A lot of the other clubs are going to be there.”

“That’s good.” You allowed yourself a glance at him. Your pettiness had all but dissipated, but you were still wary of looking at him for too long. He was like the sun, golden and lustrous and magnetic. You weren’t quite ready to be pulled into his orbit.

“So,” Oikawa said, taking a glance at your computer screen, “Rough designing?”

“Yeah. Inspiration has been hard to find and your club is counting on me.”

“If it means anything to you, we wouldn’t have asked for you to do it if we didn’t believe in you.” You looked up to see Oikawa’s gaze set firmly on your own, as if tracking your expressions. Under his stare, you felt raw. Vulnerable. If you were a cake, and he was cutting you open.

You weren’t sure what to say.

A beat of silence permeated the space between you, and the two of you made no effort to stop it. It was somewhat comforting. Unsaid words of yours were understood by him.

��It feels like a lot of pressure,” you finally admitted, letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “I want it to be worth your while.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Oikawa was closer. His breath was soft, fanning over the side of your cheek like a secret.

“I’m not sure.” Your voice was nothing more than a whisper.

Oikawa paused for a moment, as if contemplating something before decisively placing his hand on top of yours.

For a moment, you were startled by the warmth of his palm, grounding you in some way that didn’t quite make sense to you yet. Something about this was intimate in all the ways it shouldn’t be. Amidst a darkening sky and a slowly dimming library, you could almost consider this clandestine.

You waited for the rustle of a book’s pages or the resounding footsteps of the librarian to break down the moment, but they never came.

Oikawa looked at you, seemingly memorizing your features. He said nothing, but a slight smile appeared on his face the second he spotted a stray lock of hair by your ear. You could feel your face progressively heating with every moment spent in this proximity.

Damn celebrity setters. Damn stupid stupid beautiful men who do this. Damn that Oikawa Tooru.

Gently, as if touching something fragile, Oikawa smoothed down your hair, brushing the tip of your ear with his fingertips. He held your gaze fondly before suddenly, making an incredulous face.

“What the-“ He said, looking at your hair again. “It’s back up again.” He looked at his hands in horror, as if their magic didn’t work. “Damn it, that’s not how that goes.”

You couldn’t stop the laughter from erupting out of you at his antics, You swiftly flattened that pesky strand and looked back at him, feeling the amusement pool in your chest at his dismayed expression.

“Sorry man,” you laughed, syllables coming out breathless, “Sometimes stuff doesn’t go to plan.”

Oikawa seemed like he wanted to melt into the floor, and feeling the need for some fresh air, you dragged him out of the library. Upon leaving the double doors (and air conditioning), you were met by the lit sidewalk and found the wooden benches by the line of trees.

You sat down, gesturing for him to join you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this one before,” Oikawa mentioned off-handedly, “I mean I’m here a lot, but I’m not sure when this was put here.”

“It’s been here…?”

Oikawa sighed, tilting his gaze to the now dark sky. “You do have an eye for good things.”

You raised a brow. “What does that even mean?”

“The stuff you make is adorable. And Kuroo’s always said that everywhere he brings us are all places you found.”

“Really?” You leaned your upper body onto the bench. “I didn’t expect credit from him.”

“He cares about you,” Oikawa said. “He gave a lot of shit when he realized that we’d talked on our plane and then not again. But I deserved that.”

“I was petty. But it’s not like I can actually walk up to you.”

“What?” Oikawa seemed puzzled, as if this was something impossible for him to fathom. “Why not? I don’t think I’m that bad.”

“Iwaizumi says otherwise.”

“Mean. But seriously, why?”

You’d forgotten how refreshing Oikawa was. Even though you were sitting on a bench, you felt practically weightless.

“Rumors,” was all you said, gesturing to him.

Understanding seemed to flash into his eyes, and slowly, like connecting pieces of a puzzle, it all fell into place. He paused for a moment before meeting your eyes with a grin.

“You know they’re just rumors right?” He smirked, “I went to a party a while back to kick off club season. There was this one girl who really wasn’t leaving me alone, so I ended up leaving. Turns out she’d told her friends that she and I made out at the party and gave me a whole lot more credit than I was expecting. Not that I mind making out, but I’m picky.”

“Picky how?” You asked, words leaving your mouth before you even had the chance to think them over.

“Picky as in there’s really only one person I’ve even wanted to kiss since I got here but haven’t got the chance to. I’m hoping they come to the booth. Just so I’ll get to know what that’s like.”

You felt a subtle twist of something in your chest, though you weren’t sure what to make of it. Of course he had his eye on somebody. It was bound to happen eventually.

“Why are you making a booth to do mass kissing then?” A valid follow up question. A guy like him could successfully pull whenever he wanted to.

“Because I’m an opportunist,” he sighed, “And I’m not even sure if I can make a move properly. I don’t function like I normally do when they’re around.”

“Of course you can. Anybody would say yes to you, Tooru.”

With this, something in him seemed to snap and he immediately pulled you closer, your faces just an inch apart. His hands were firm around your waist, and the sensation was nearly searing. You could feel everything, from his hands to his breath to even the way his eyes seemed to scan your face.

The way he looked at you now was like worship.

“What are you doing?” You whispered shakily. With him all around you you could barely breathe, let alone think.

“Making a move.” His eyes were on your lips. His hand gently left your waist to skim your arm before placing a hand on your cheek. “May I?”

Your nod was nearly imperceptible before he captured your lips in yours.

Soft, was your first thought as you felt his lips brush yours ever so lightly. You leaned into him, relishing the vaguely sweet taste of strawberry Chapstick on his lips as you swiped your tongue over his lips.

Oikawa Tooru was a mystic. His fingers tangled in your hair and his lips searched for yours as if he was a lost man and you were his savior. He traced the curve of your waist and kissed you passionately, nibbling your lips when you pulled at his shirt.

You could kiss him forever. You moved to nip at the tip of his ear, and his shaky breath had you considering if you should bite down harder. He pulled you back in and you melted into the feel of his lips and hands and the way his touch seemed to awaken something inside you.

The way he held you was reverent.

When you finally split for air, Oikawa held you close, his smile never wavering. He rubbed a thumb across your cheek, and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“That was magical,” you murmured into his shirt, and you couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit happy to hear the laugh you liked so much.

You reckoned you’d be able to put together a solid design after tonight.

Oikawa had a skip in his step the following morning. He’d aced every assessment, finished all his homework, and made major breakthroughs at practice. His sets to Bokuto were so flawless that Bokuto could hardly believe he’d made those shots.

Everyone on the volleyball team was certain that something had happened, but Oikawa refused to let up.

He didn’t kiss and tell after all.

“What is up with you?” Iwaizumi asked good-naturedly, tipping back a water bottle. “You’ve been in a surprisingly good mood all morning.”

“It’s been a good day,” Oikawa smiled, offering no other details while picking up a few stray balls on the court. The gym floor seemed exceptionally shiny today. He’d be sure to thank whoever waxed the floor for their services when he could.

“Something definitely happened.” Kuroo chimed in, scrutinizing Oikawa like he was something under a microscope. “The question is what.”

“Am I not allowed to have good days?”

“No you are,” Kuroo smirked, “But a day this good only happens after a sudden surge in popularity which —last time I checked— didn’t happen, or……did you make some breakthrough?”

“With my sets, yes.”

“No,” Kuroo smiled knowingly. “I’m gonna curse them out for not telling me anything.”

Oikawa hid his surprise with a flash of indifference, though internally he cursed the middle blocker. It seemed that he was just as good at reading people as he was at read blocking.

Iwaizumi caught on almost immediately, casting his eyes to his longtime friend, who all of a sudden, was acting like a deer in headlights. He found it odd that the nature of your relationship with Oikawa had transformed seemingly overnight.

It seemed that you never truly harbored any resentment against him.

Still, he resolved to approach you about it as soon as he could.

The minute that you walked through the gym’s double doors, the entire team thought that they’d summoned you with all the prying they were doing. You hauled something large through the door and placed it against the wall, proud of yourself for the herculean effort it took to bring it through.

The minute he registered your presence, Oikawa’s face looked like a puff of cotton candy. His cheeks were rosy with all the teasing and the memories of last night, and when he saw what it was that you’d leaned against the wall, he thought he should run over and kiss you out of pride.

“Good morning guys,” you beamed, a smile so radiant that Oikawa had suddenly lost all the focus he’d had all morning.

“Morning Y/N,” Iwaizumi greeted, walking over to greet you with a hug and a slight gesture to the object that was now leaning against the wall. “Is this it?”

You nodded excitedly. “I got the inspiration to put it together last night. I think it captures the magic of the booth.”

Iwaizumi leaned to flip over the posterboard and decided that he’d never seen anything more fitting in his entire life.

The sign was a pastel wonder, a pale blue at the bottom and moving to a light pink at the top. Across the poster were small and light volleyballs, somewhat transparent against the background as if the pattern was a part of it. The borders of the poster were filled with various lip prints (and even funnier, some hidden Chapsticks).

The font at the center was a far cry from the scrawling archaic font that Kuroo had used on their initial flyers. It was a simple block font, a shade of pink with a glow filter and a pattern that made it look like a light-up sign on the part that really mattered.

The Volleyball Club presents, the poster read, written in a smaller font. Right below that, the light up letters spelled out The Mystic Kissbooth. Help kiss us to greatness.

The team crowded around the board, marveling at both its quality and its thoughtfulness.

“Y/N….” Bokuto trailed off, his eyes nearly bursting with amazement, “This is crazy!”

“Yeah,” Semi added, “This is ridiculously good. Kuroo, where the hell have you been keeping them.”

Kuroo simply crossed his arms and smiled with pride. He’d always believed in you.

Oikawa stood shell-shocked at your work, feeling all the days of preparation finally coming together. He looked at you and smiled a smile so genuine, you were glad you’d finally pulled through.

You looked to the floor bashfully for a moment before meeting the team’s eyes with renewed confidence. “Thank you. I’m glad to help.”

Iwaizumi stood at your side, smiling fondly at you before turning his gaze to Oikawa. “Hey. Oikawa. What is the deal with the de-stress carnival? When is it, where is it, and where are we setting up?”

Oikawa, still elated, looked around the gym at the team. “If you want details, I think we should call another meeting.”

”That is a great idea,” you chimed in.

“Wanna join?” Oikawa asked (hopefully).

”I’m sorry, I don’t think I can. I’ve got a date with Kiyoko.”

The team went silent. “You have a what?!”

The evening hues only made Kiyoko more beautiful. She was dressed casually, wearing classic blue jeans, a tank top, and a cardigan that only accentuated her figure. When she saw you approaching her, a smile appeared on her face instantaneously.

“Y/N!” She greeted, “It’s good to see you.”

You jogged up to her and pulled her into a friendly hug. “It’s good to see you too!”

You and Kiyoko fell into step naturally, opting to have dinner at one of your favorite places outside of campus. It was a quick walk from where you’d chosen to meet up, and in such good weather, it was a crime not to spend more time together.

“I have a lot to tell you about,” Kiyoko began, “Starting with Oikawa Tooru. He showed up in my room and asked for the host. He’s got to know it’s me right?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I know you use a modulator to stay under wraps so people take the podcast seriously, but he’s had a very good track record for being perceptive.”

“That’s a pain” she sighed, “I hope he’s not going to spread it around.”

“He won’t,” you assured her, “Oikawa can understand rumors better than anyone.”

Kiyoko smiled relievedly, though she raised a brow at the mention of rumors. “Are those true?”

You fought the heat that seemed to emerge onto your face the minute she mentioned that. You just hoped it would go unnoticed by her.

Her blue eyes, unfortunately, were just as perceptive as they were pretty.

She smirked, crossing her arms and stopping on the sidewalk path. “When did that happen?”

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s keep walking.” You wish your voice had come out more strongly than a murmur.

“When?”

“Last night.” Damn Kiyoko for getting answers out of you.

“And…?” She raised her brows expectantly.

“Rumors are baseless but I confirm them. He is magical.”

“I ought to say something about that,” she giggled, and you wanted to bury yourself into your hands to avoid her teasing.

“Shush.”

The two of you had a lovely dinner and opted to grab a quick drink from the speciality beverage store next door. Kiyoko grabbed a strawberry milkshake and you opted for a tropical fruit floater that they’d just created. Thanks to Kiyoko, both drinks were on the house.

She nursed the straw between her lips and took a drag of her milkshake before meeting your eyes. “I have some information on the de-stress carnival.”

You urged her to continue, and Kiyoko did.

“Looks like Oikawa and the other members of clubs decided to officially name it the Cool Down Carnival. They’re just going to refer to it as Cool Down for ease. They’re planning to organize it the Saturday after midterms and they’ve been working on concessions like cotton candy, caramel apples, popcorn, and a whole boatload of stuff. Administration is also totally fine with this.”

“Wow,” was all you could say as a response. You were honestly impressed with Oikawa. He put so much thought and care into a silly rumor that had transformed into one of the school’s biggest upcoming events. He was an alchemist of opportunities, taking a rumor of lead and transforming it to gold.

“Yeah,” Kiyoko nodded, “I’ll get social media to cover it for me. So far, nobody doubts that I’m the manager of the ‘Cast, so it should be fairly reasonable for me to do.”

“Out of curiosity, do you know anything about how they’re planning to do the shifts of the booth?”

“All I know for certain is that Oikawa said he probably wasn’t gonna do a headlining shift…or a shift at all. A lot of the other members were perfectly fine with taking this on, but there has been some backlash.”

He was planning on not headlining the booth?

Your heart was suddenly very warm and fuzzy in your chest.

Kiyoko knowingly smiled at you before tipping at the front register and dragging you outside. The breeze was oddly pleasant, something a bit uncommon for this time of year. It was approaching colder weather, but it felt nearly spring-like.

“The weather isn’t making sense,” you said, enjoying the feeling of freedom that came with nighttime out.

“It hasn’t been making sense,” Kiyoko smiled, “We’re anticipating a fresh fair.”

Springs and falls blended together. You found a beautiful leaf on the sidewalk and pressed it to your palm, preserving the feel and look in your memory.

“I’m looking forward to it,” you’d finally tell Kiyoko as you parted ways, meaning each and every word.

When Oikawa had showed up at your doorstep in the morning, your sleep-addled brain could barely fathom the reason as to why he would do such a thing.

That was, until he walked into your room carrying breakfast in a brown bag.

“Good morning Y/N.” He said, voice still slightly raspy from a good night of sleep. (You weren’t going to forget how that sounded forever).

You greeted him with a morning greeting of your own and sat on your bed, stretching your limbs and analyzing the boy who—at this present moment—seemed like the happiest guy on earth.

“Feel free to help yourself,” Oikawa grinned, grabbing a bagel and a pack of cream cheese from the bag. “I have some updates for you.”

“Does it have to do with the Cool Down?” You walked over to the bag and grabbed something you liked from the inside.

“Wow. How did you know about the name?”

“I have my sources,” you winked.

Oikawa simply laughed. “I know it’s Kiyoko dumbass. She’s one of the sneakiest podcast hosts of all time.”

“So you do know.”

“Obviously.” Oikawa lounged on the chair in your corner. “Nobody else is ever working in that office. She should get some people to join her.”

You nodded and shifted to sit next to him on the couch. His warmth was a surprisingly pleasant addition into the morning, and you found yourself leaning into him. He didn’t make any move to stop it, opting to pull you in and place his arm over you.

“We have classes soon,” you said groggily, “But I don’t want to move.”

“We don’t have to right now.”

“Thanks Tooru.”

“Of course, Y/N.” He smiled. “Though we do have an afternoon meeting on how to divide the shifts. I’m not sure what we’re going to be doing about me.”

You suddenly felt a lot more awake. You shifted your weight onto your unsupported arm and looked up at Oikawa. “Are you planning to take a shift?”

Oikawa shifted nervously in his seat. “I’m not sure. I may have to for the sake of demand. Everyone is expecting me to live up to the expectation. I think we would be less successful without my involvement.”

You felt a twist of something. Not jealously, but not comfort either. Something between the two. You rose away from Oikawa, walking over to the opposite side of the room where your bed was and met his eyes.

“Do you really have to?” you asked, feeling partially unfair. There was nothing official between the two of you at the moment, but you’d thought after the kiss two nights ago…..you thought you had a chance.

“I might,” he gulped, “But you know you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to kiss.”

You sighed exasperatedly. “I know that you came up with this as a business opportunity and because you thought we’d never…get anywhere, but a long shift is going to be a lot of people.”

“I know,” he sighed, meeting your eyes with an expression in his own that looked a lot like sadness. “But the fundraiser might just have to come first for now— no that’s not what I—“

“Please leave,” you said, voice wavering a bit, “I don’t want to deal with the whole priorities thing right now. We can say we kissed once for fun. Headline it if you must. Later Oikawa.”

You turned away from him and walked towards your closet to find appropriate clothes for the day. You couldn’t even stand to look at him right now. Things would become too complicated for you to handle.

“Y/N, I’m really sorry.” Oikawa said from behind you, “That is genuinely not what I meant.”

You turned to face him again, not even able to meet his eyes. “There’s got to be some semblance of truth in what you said earlier. You love your team Oikawa. They are important. I don’t expect you to throw away opportunities for me. We’re not even dating.” You laughed dryly. “I’d like a bit of space. We can talk a bit later.”

Oikawa seemed like he had a lot more to say, but he wordlessly slipped out of the door, leaving your room noticeably empty.

Once he’d left for certain, you collapsed onto the floor and let loose the dam of tears you’d held in for so long.

When Iwaizumi found you in the library, he knew immediately that something was wrong. Your eyes were reddened ever so slightly, covered over by a splash of cold water to the face (most likely), and your usual cheerfulness when you greeted him was a lot less lively.

He took the seat beside you, surprised by your lack of response.

”Hajime,” you said softly, turning over to smile sadly at him, “Good to see you here.”

Correction: something was horrifically wrong.

“What happened?” He asked softly, wondering what was enough to dampen your normally resilient spirit.

“Fucking Oikawa,” you laughed sarcastically, “Look at me saying I’d never get caught up in his web, and then doing exactly that.”

Iwaizumi wrinkled his brow. That day on the bench, he’d known enough to discern that you and Oikawa had some sort of history. That much continued to be made obvious by Oikawa’s constant urge to see you and include you in everything that he and Kuroo didn’t think was important enough to invite you to.

However, he wasn’t sure when you and Oikawa became more than a past set of acquaintances….and that stung a little. He understood your reasoning though. Especially if it was as complicated as you seemed to feel at the moment.

“Were you guys dating?”

“No.” You turned to face him in full, and he was struck by the magnitude of just how magnetic you were. Iwaizumi was guilty of being stuck in your orbit. “Just a kiss. Because he sweet talked me into thinking he wanted something.”

“Knowing him, he probably did.” Iwaizumi said, “Oikawa has a tendency to be obsessive to get what he wants, but also be blinded by obligations. This was definitely about him headlining the booth, right?”

You nodded, feeling a sudden tightness in your throat at the thought. You weren’t ready to confront the morning’s events quite yet.

“That dumbass,” Iwaizumi groaned, “If he’d told us that he liked you and had actually managed to make a move we would’ve gladly taken his shift! Who gives a fuck about what the college body wants? Half of them thirst over everyone!” You laughed a bit at the truth of that statement. “Yeah, and Kiyoko told me she was also planning on making a little appearance.”

At this Iwaizumi raised his brow. “Oh that’s about to be carnage.”

“Absolutely,” you giggled, “Who knows? Maybe you’ll be the lucky person.” Iwaizumi laughed, a sound that was low and sweet and comforting. “I think I’ll leave it to some of the other boys. They deserve a chance after all.”

The two of you grinned at the mental imagery of the team fighting for a chance to interact with your beautiful friend, and suddenly, Oikawa’s shittiness seemed like something far less relevant.

Still, even with the humor of the situation came the very uncomfortable realization that you and Oikawa–-whatever you were–-were done if you didn’t come to some consensus.

You shoved your hands into your face, wondering how the hell you’d managed to go from avoidant and unattached to too attached. Maybe the rumors had some merit. A kiss from Oikawa was all that it took to get so jumbled.

Iwaizumi’s warm palm on your back was what brought you back to your senses. He rubbed his slow circles and sat there patiently until you emerged from your cover of shame.

“What am I going to do?” you asked, voice raw and vulnerable and everything you’d rather it not have been.

“Whatever you want to do.” Iwaizumi’s gaze was genuine, soft eyes studying you. “You’re entitled to your own decisions. Kuroo and I would never ditch you for Shitty you know.”

“It’s for the team,” you whispered, feeling tears threatening to spill over your cheeks. Your vision was hazy, and you blinked slowly to clear the water from your eyes. “So then why do I feel like this?”

“Because you care about him, Y/N.” Iwaizumi squeezed your shoulder affectionately, “You and him clearly bonded on some intergalactic level, so having that be suddenly shattered in favor of something seemingly less important is going to feel like shit. In fact, he is the real piece of crap here.” “The team matters.” “The team is all about relationships.” Iwaizumi said firmly. “I have a hunch there’s someone in this tournament that he needs to beat. That’s why he’s been obsessively orchestrating the perfect way to raise money to have a practice match beforehand. Still, I won’t deny it. Oikawa is an idiot for doing this to you. You have all the rights to move on with your life.”

“I think I’m gonna take my space from him for a few days,” you eventually responded. “I think I’ll also not visit the booth. I’ll give Kuroo the sign in advance so he can help with setting up?”

Iwaizumi nodded solemnly. “If that’s what you need to do, I’ll be your number one supporter. I’d still love it if you could stop by though. We love having you around.”

You nodded at him. “I’ll be there for you and Kuroo. Always. And you guys can hang out with me at the Cool Down when you’re off shift.”

“Of course,” Iwaizumi smiled, “For you? Anything.”

“How do you say, ‘I’m angry’ in French?” The ping of the recording microphone tapped on as Oikawa paced quickly around his room.

“Je suis fâché.”

“How do you say, ‘I like to go out with my friends’ in French?” “J’aime sortir avec mes amis.”

“How do you say, ‘I went to my friend’s house’ in French?”

“Je ne veux pas continuer.”

“Oui Monsieur. À Bientôt!” His phone’s recording feature switched off, leaving him in a silent room once again.

He was regretful, so much so that he paced around in his room in the hopes that it would give him some sort of clarity. As much as he wanted to approach you, he knew you weren’t ready to talk to him right now.

“Shittykawa,” he heard from his door, opening with a subtlety and closing with a bang. Classic Iwa move.

He turned to face his best friend, who at this moment, seemed to be quite irritated with him. He could feel the lecture as certain as one could feel a thunderstorm in the air.

Iwaizumi stood, arms crossed in Oikawa’s room, leaning against the wall and pinning him with a look so strong it might as well have been a thumbtack. Oikawa felt rooted in place, and all the words he initially planned on saying left his mouth.

“So Ushijima Wakatoshi happens to be at a school just a bit over,” Iwa started, “I did my research. Why not play a practice match with them to start to see their setting style? Break down their setter, practice receiving from a left-handed person, and maybe we can beat him, right?”

Oikawa sighed, feeling all the fight leave his body. He made his way over to his pale blue rug and sat down. “I know. It’s ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous is what you did to Y/N.” Iwaizumi glared at him. “If you’d said something about liking them and actually successfully getting them to like you, then we would’ve been perfectly capable of handling the shifts. Hell, even Kiyoko is coming. That alone will give people incentive to come and kiss us.”

“I made a mistake,” Oikawa cringed. He didn’t even want to think about the morning. What was intended to be a romantic gesture ended up being a horrible memory. His attempts to distract himself were futile, and he couldn’t help but wonder how Iwaizumi had found you. “But they probably don’t want to talk to me.”

Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa sadly. “They’re planning on skipping the booth. They’ve already decided to give their poster to Kuroo so he can help us with set-up. So don’t plan on seeing them.”

He grimaced. “Not coming? Really?”

Iwaizumi nodded. “I was pretty unhappy about it, but we’ve got to give them space to process everything.” The minute you’d smiled at him in the airport, talking about “college stampedes,” Oikawa knew he wanted nothing more but to know you better. He’d thanked every lucky star for the seats you had next to each other and relished every moment spent with you.

He wondered why you avoided him for the next months, always daydreaming about what he’d say to you when you finally reappeared at practices. He’d searched for you in your classes, but he always missed you.

When you walked into the gym on that fateful day, he thought he had a genuine chance. You were perfect. Your thoughts were exquisite, your smile radiant, and everything about you felt right. When he kissed you, he could’ve screamed to the heavens that his heart was yours.

Perhaps that was why his heart seemed to tear a bit at Iwaizumi’s declaration. You wanted to move on from this.

“Oikawa…you can still fix this you know?” Iwaizumi pulled him up from the rug, noting the reignited spark in his eyes. “You should probably get the fair set up, find Y/N, and explain yourself. I’m certain they’ll understand.”

“It’s the least I can do,” he said solemnly, “And if they still decide they want nothing to do with me, at least I did my part.”

You found him at Kuroo’s place at night when you’d stepped through his door uninvited (like you did at times). In your hands was your laptop, a few pencils, and the sign you’d made for the booth. The last thing you’d expected was to see the person you’d been trying so desperately to avoid.

Oikawa, for a moment, looked like he’d seen a ghost. He looked at the door, brown eyes concerned and scanning you as if you’d just walked in through the wall.

Nobody said anything. You stood still, too shell-shocked to process the fact that a night before the Cool Down, Oikawa was spending time with Kuroo. In fact, you could barely believe Kuroo had ever allowed Oikawa into his place in the first place, especially when he knew that you were planning on popping in at some point.

Kuroo’s eyes followed your gaze, finding it landing right on the floor next to Oikawa (as opposed to straight at him).

“Well,” Kuroo began softly, “I didn’t warn either of you.”

“You could have,” you said, looking back at Kuroo, “I would’ve liked to know before I got here.” “But then you would have never showed up.” Oikawa’s voice was clear, slicing through the silence of the room with a blade of decisiveness that you hadn’t heard from him. He looked you over, seemingly analyzing your health since the day he’d fucked up.

“I wasn’t planning on running into you,” you admitted, finding the courage to meet his eyes. “In fact, I was literally just coming to drop off the sign for your booth, talk to my best friend, and then go to bed.”

“Please let me explain myself.” Everything about Oikawa seemed pleading. His face harbored an expression of guilt so boundless that you weren’t sure how to react.

You wordlessly sat down in the corner chair closest to Kuroo’s door, setting your stuff down on the surface closest to it.

“I’m sure Iwaizumi must have told you what it was that we were raising money for.”

You nodded.

“I never had the chance to tell you more about what I struggled with in high school," Oikawa said quietly. “I was surrounded by talented players. Some of them are so talented that I thought I never even stood a chance. I realized at the end of my matches that I deserved to be on the court just as much as anyone else.”

“You’re a damn good setter Oikawa,” Kuroo interjected, “And even Semi admires your sets. He’s from the same school as Ushijima too.”

“Thank you,” Oikawa laughed softly, but even the sound was sad. He turned to meet your eyes. “I was out of line trying to say the volleyball club mattered more to me than what we were getting to be. I was worried they’d be weird at me for flaking, but they’re my team. Iwa told me they’d always have my back. Happy setter happy tosses right?”

You took a moment to process everything that he was saying, ultimately coming to one conclusion. He really did feel bad.

“Why are you so obsessed with having a chance to beat someone you had a rivalry with in highschool?”

Oikawa paused, contemplating your question. His brow was furrowed, and his hands clutched anxiously around nothing, seemingly finding the best words to phrase—whatever it was—that he was feeling.

“It was to give myself the confidence to know I can still beat tough opponents,” he said quietly. “But it was never worth losing you.”

You gently moved onto the floor, kneeling your way over to where Oikawa sat. When your fingertips skimmed his cheek, cool from the fall time air, he seemed fragile.

You gently curved your fingers to tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear. “Are you sure you mean it?”

“Every last word.” Oikawa whispers, and maybe against your better instincts, you pull him into an embrace.

As far as Oikawa was concerned, you weren’t coming to the booth today.

Cool Down’s set up began bright and early, and despite last night’s emotional clarity, Kuroo was still the one who showed up with the sign.

The booth was placed in a central location, but deep enough into the carnival so that after a sweet kiss, everyone could go and support the other clubs. He hadn’t been able to spot Kiyoko quite yet, but he was certain they were bound to cross paths eventually.

He walked across the grassy area where the carnival was being set up, watching the glorious “Cool Down” sign being placed at the front of the admit area. Many sports teams and board members of academic clubs were helping organize their own booths.

“Hey Oikawa! I can put up the banner!” Bokuto shouted from across the field, jogging up to their area with a rolled up “Mystic Kissbooth” backdrop.

“Be careful!” He yelled back, “We can’t have one of our best spikers getting hurt. I need those cross court and straight shots in perfect condition!”

Bokuto grinned so widely that Oikawa couldn’t help but grin back. “You can count on me!”

He took a moment to slouch against the now filled bouncy castle by their stand, clutching his clipboard to his chest. He could practically sense the excitement seeping into the space as the nearby club members set up their stands.

He’d had the opportunity to survey the space beforehand, and was quite pleased with the nearby stations.

The art club created a paint gun bullseye game to win handmade trinkets and jewelry. The president stood proudly at the set up side, excitedly loading up paint into the guns. He could already predict the boyfriends who’d attempt to win there.

To the other side of them was the statistics club’s probability stand. They’d set up numerous games: cards, a wheel, and even ring toss for the chance to win huge prizes. At the present moment, Kuroo was inquiring about the legitimacy of the airpods in one of the member’s hands (and yes—they were legit).

“This is pretty amazing, huh?”

Oikawa snapped out of his reverie, only to see Mattsun sporting his classic smirk. He looked around for Makki, but didn’t find him.

“Yeah,” he admitted, “I’m honestly surprised our little flier accomplished this much.”

“I’m not,” Mattsun chuckled, “You’ve been like this since high school Oikawa. Everyone here is really grateful for the rumors. Speaking of which…think the culprit is going to show up today?”

Oikawa snorted, momentarily horrified at the sound

that escaped him. “That’s ridiculous. I’m not planning on being a headliner. Iwa’s got that covered.”

Makki walked into view just a few moments later, looking thoroughly confused. “Where’s the rest of the team?”

Kuroo walked over at the exact moment, clapping Makki on the back. “We decided to give them a little break, considering they’re going to be doing all the kissing later.”

The group gathered together, and Mattsun pointed to the castle. “Who’s running this thing?”

“Oh it’s just a free fun thing the school is putting up.” Oikawa smacked it for good measure.

“How did midterms even go for you guys?” Kuroo laughed, “I pulled what I wanted in all my classes. Somehow. Orgo was a fucking miracle though. I genuinely thought I failed.”

“I was mostly fine,” Mattsun chuckled, “Though we won’t talk about history. Freaking liberal arts.”

Oikawa’s midterms had gone more or less to plan, but the added emotional stress had made it much more difficult to keep cool.

Standing there in that grassy field, he felt more at peace than he did the rest of the week.

Maybe today would be okay after all.

You and Iwaizumi were in your room trying to devise a plan on how to attend the carnival. The cool wood of your desk hit your wrist as you spread out the makeshift blueprint of the event that Kiyoko had so graciously given you.

Iwaizumi paced along the floor, inspecting outfits that you picked out while you devised a mental list of everywhere you wanted to go to maximize your enjoyment. Economic principles were literally designed off of utility, and you wanted to make sure all your contributions would have the best outcome for the clubs and yourself.

Midterms had been stressful, and while last night’s talk had fixed most of what had contributed to that stress, you still wondered about Oikawa.

Iwaizumi was the event’s new headliner, so what did that mean for Oikawa?

You weren’t sure.

The Saturday morning filled your room with sunshine that was comforting. From your window you were greeted with the multicolored leaves of campus, some floating down leisurely to hit the grass.

Iwaizumi, it seemed, had finally picked your outfit.

“Here,” he gestured, pointing to one of your favorites. “You rock this one.”

“Why thank you,” you smiled, tossing him the blueprint. “I’ve finally figured out the order I’m going to tour the Cool Down.”

Iwaizumi caught the paper in one arm, muscles flexing ever so slightly as he did. You nodded appreciatively. He was going to generate a shit ton of money.

He put a pen between his lips ever so slightly as he read the marks on the page. “Cotton candy. Art booth. Bouncy castle. Stats games. Chemistry lab. Apple dunk to win candy apples. Physics coaster.” He handed the page back. “That’s a pretty solid list. I think you’re missing something though.”

You pulled the pen out of Iwa’s mouth (surprised at your boldness) and smiled gently at him. “I’ll be sure to pop in at some point or be nearby to support you.”

Iwaizumi nodded, “Of course. I just need to beat you at any and all games we visit after my shift.”

You snickered. “Not a chance.”

Iwaizumi simply smirked in response.

“Hey, I need two tickets!” A student hollered to her assistant, who at the present moment, was working on acquiring more admit tickets from the roll they’d customized for the event. “We have quite the line here.”

“I’m working on it!” The assistant hollered back, jogging over with the entire row.

The line for the Cool Down was large, and you were thankful you’d had the foresight to arrive early enough to avoid a majority of the crowd. Being friends with Iwa had its perks too–the minute that the admitting team had spotted him, they’d immediately ushered you to the front so you were in a position to visit him later.

Soon enough, you were at the front of the line.

“Well hello there friend of Iwaizumi,” the girl at the front smiled, “How many tickets do you need?” “Just one,” you said, surprised at the lack of prompt to pay the entrance fee. “What about the entrance fee?”

“Oh, Iwaizumi took care of that already,” the assistant grinned, handing you a beautifully designed cardstock ticket and tying a wristband around your wrist. “So you can walk straight in.”

You smiled graciously at the duo. “Wow. I’ll go find him and pay him back. Thank you guys.”

Stepping around the ticket distribution center, you walked straight through the decorated entrance area and walked in.

For a moment, you were awestruck. The usually empty grass fields were filled to the brim with activity. All around you were the booths of various clubs, all with lines to try them out. You could smell the sweet and tart scent of caramel apples in the distance, and saw a couple trying out the physics club’s make-shift coaster with a cotton candy in their hands.

The late afternoon was brisk and fresh, and you felt the possibilities of the evening unfurl around you. As the sky darkened its hues, the fair would begin to light up from the fixtures that trimmed everyone’s areas. Everything, from the food areas, to even the Mystic Kissbooth would create a movie-like scene.

You decided right there and then that the Cool Down was the best fair you’d ever attended. You’d never seen anything as well thought out as what you saw today.

You made your way to the popcorn area, finding new booths that you hadn’t seen on the blueprint. In front of you was a simple dart-throw, with the guarantee of winning a special edition Cool Down shirt if you hit within a certain range.

This was intriguing.

“Hi there,” you said quietly, walking up to the booth. “Can I give this a whirl?” The booth’s president looked up at you shocked for a moment before nodding.

“Of course!” He said excitedly, elbowing his shift mate. “Y/L/N Y/N, right? We are huge fans of your work. Kuroo has told us so so much about you!”

“My work?” You asked curiously as they pressed a dart into your palm. “Like my fliers?” “Hell yeah,” the president grinned. “Pay if you win okay? I honestly want you to get our design out of it. We were inspired a bit by your Mystic Kissbooth sign.”

In the spirit of good fun, you aimed the dart as best as you could, so surprised when you hit a spot very close to the bulls-eye.

“Hey!” you shouted excitedly, “I actually got in range!” The president smiled excitedly. “Amazing! What’s your shirt size?” You told him your size, tucking a good amount of money into the jar. As soon as the soft shirt fabric hit your hands, you were immediately overcome with a sense of pride. The design was beautiful and simple, capturing the essence in the fair in just an image.

“You’re the design club?” You grinned, “This is amazing!” “Ah thank you,” the president said bashfully, “It’s an honor to get a compliment from you. You’re more than welcome to join us. Canva art is still art we love.”

“I’ll be sure to consider it!” You waved goodbye to the design booth as you made your way deeper into the fair, a t-shirt in hand.

“Hey there! Want a chance to win a cool plushie? Come right over!” You turned your head to be met with the sewing club with something that looked a lot like “Bop-It” set up with sheets of papers next to them. Out of sheer curiosity you made your way to the booth, finding a larger crowd than you anticipated. “Okay,” one of the members began, “Here is how this works. You and your competitor will receive a pre-programmed Bop-It machine. Follow the color scheme as closely as you can and note the last color in each sequence on your sheet. If you don’t mess up before your partner, you win ANY handmade plush of your choice!” In front of you, you spotted a couple tucking money into the jar and competing against one another. The round was quick, ending when someone clicked the wrong color. The handmade plushie of the winner was adorable.

Somehow, all your observations had led you to the front of the line.

“Hello,” a student smiled, “Do you have a competitor with you?” You were about to share a response when you heard a voice behind you. “Yeah, they do. I’d like to play please.” You were pleasantly surprised to find Kiyoko grinning as she tucked a hefty amount into the jar. The student at the front seemed enamored, and so did the entire line.

“Shimizu Kiyoko is here…” they all whispered.

“Hey Kiyoko,” you smiled, placing your own money in the jar. “Planning to beat me?”

“Of course.” She grinned mischievously, “I ran a volleyball team. I am competitive enough to beat you.”

The game began as soon as the students got a grip of themselves. You frantically hit the colors and noted them down, only to tie with Kiyoko. You’d both walked away with adorable plushies, though Kiyoko had forcibly had to ensure that they didn’t hand her an extra.

“I’m glad to run into you,” you smiled, walking with her further into the grass. “I had no idea what time you were planning to get here.”

“I’m glad I found you.” Her smile was infectious, and soon enough, you stood in front of a candy apple stand.

“Are you planning to visit the booth?” You asked her, watching her pay for her apple.

“Yeah,” she smiled, “Oikawa begged me to cover, so I was feeling nice. Though he’s been sulking lately.” You raised a brow. When you saw him last night, you could feel his fatigue. You felt the stress melt out of him when you pulled him in for a hug, but you hadn’t realized the extent of his distress.

“He hasn’t kissed today at all,” she smiled knowingly, “I think he’s saving an appearance for a special someone.” “He’s….not headlining?” You were shocked. After everything, it seemed that he really meant what he said.

“Nope,” Kiyoko wiped some caramel from her lips. “And the booth’s sales have been spectacular.”

Standing there in the field, you were hit with the intense urge to see him. “Go,” Kiyoko smiled, “They’ve been waiting for you to show up.” “We’ll catch up.” You smiled as you took off in a jog towards the booth. The wind swept your cheeks as you ran, and you could see the evening sun dip into different colors. Beautiful, you thought, feeling the adrenaline pump through your veins.

He really had meant everything. You needed to see him.

When you arrived at the booth, you were shocked at the line. So many students lined up, money in hand as they waited for their chance to kiss a volleyball player. You were shocked to see the crowd, watching someone hand Semi a particularly large bill before leaning in for a kiss.

You surveyed the booth for Oikawa, but you couldn’t find him anywhere. You couldn’t stop the thrum of your heart in your chest from overpowering your senses. Where was he? What if you were too late? At that particular moment, Oikawa walked out from behind the stand, putting some Chapstick onto his lips. And then, he saw you.

You stood in line, a large bill in hand and an expression that seemed almost desperate. Oikawa has never seen anyone look more perfect than you did right now. You held a handmade plushie and a shirt, lips flushed from biting them.

You met his eyes, feeling your heart shock at the sensation. There he was.

Before you even had a chance to think about what you were doing, you ran out of line to him, shoving the bill into his hands.

“Tooru,” you said breathlessly, looking at him with an expression he’d never seen before. “Kiyoko told me you weren’t headlining. I was afraid I wasn’t going to find you. I’m sorry for not trusting you.” Oikawa could hardly hide his shock as the words tumbled from your lips. He studied your cheeks, and smoothed out your wind mused hair with a soft smile. “Hey, it’s alright.” You exhaled, looking at him like he strung the stars. “I thought I wouldn’t make it in time.” Oikawa simply grinned before pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

This was different from the last time you kissed. He cupped your face softly and wrapped his other arm around your waist, tracing a small heart into your back. You could feel the curve of his lips as he kissed you softly, pulling you deeper when you smiled back into it. Everything about this was soft, almost loving. It felt like a truce. It felt like a confession.

It felt better than both of those things. When you finally split for air, his smile was nearly blinding. He looked at you like you were a poet and he was your poetry, a product of your purest affections.

“Go out with me sometime?” He looked nervous, standing there like he hadn’t just kissed you like you were the most special person in the universe.

“Of course,” you grinned, pulling him down for another kiss.

if you got this far, thank you for reading <3!!

401 notes · View notes