#lol. An unfortunately large club

[certifiedfreec]

・❥・close - gojo satoru x f!reader (crossposted on ao3!) ・❥・

⊹ oh nooo you’re trapped in a hotel room with gojo… and there’s only one bed… ahhhhh

⊹ 18+, smut, frenemies to lovers, a ridiculous amount of banter

⊹ word count: 9.8k (i’m so normal about him lol…)

“Well fuck.”

Mouth agape, you stand tiredly beside your overly cheeky partner-in-exorcises, surveying the last available hotel suite that’s closest to your current assignment. Cramped could describe it if you’re feeling generous, as the sparse amenities make the single queen-sized bed in the center of the room look like a California King. The overblown stock photos of generic flowers hanging haphazardly above the bed are nearly mocking the otherwise drab room, and the dim lighting makes it all look more dingy than romantic given the scenario you’re in.

One bed left in this overbooked “hotel…” This has to be a fever dream.

“I call the left side!”

Said partner, Satoru Gojo, is oblivious to your inner turmoil as he languidly steps into the room with his singsong tone, surveying what little it has to offer with an otherwise calm expression. God, this guy gets on your nerves, but not for any pertinent or extravagant reason. Really, he just carries himself a little too cockily for your taste, like he’s used to people fawning over him for doing nothing. While you work well together for the most part, there’s something about his presence that just makes you-

“You can take the whole thing,” you grumble dismissively, carefully moving around him to set your backpack down on the warped work desk. You’d sooner sleep in the bathtub even if it was soaking wet, you think.

Your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets with how hard they roll when you hear him let out a feigned hum of disappointment. You can sense him studying your every move, even through that stupid blindfold thing he’s always got on.

“Bummer. You scared you’re gonna catch some cooties? I’m not contagious.” Gojo tuts playfully, shaking his black jacket off and tossing it over the back of the chair. “Guess that means more room for me!” He wastes wastes no time in flopping onto the middle of the stiff mattress with a grin, and part of you can’t help but admire- no, simply notice, you tell yourself- how his shockingly white hair and pale skin contrasts the dull, dated comforter. He’s got a white button down on, and you’re tempted to call him a bloodsucking vampire with how translucent he looks. Humming to himself, he reaches for the remote that practically shrinks in his large hands, clicking the clunky TV on and watching it take a few minutes to whir to life.

You’re unsure what to do with yourself, but you’re determined to put some space between the two of you with whatever happens. It’s unfortunate when you realize that you really might not be successful with that endeavor, given your dwarfed hotel room that could trigger any sane person’s claustrophobia. It didn’t help that this guy already took up most of the lackluster room with just his body, either. Your eyes flicker over to your work partner, who appears unnervingly okay with this turn of events. With a deep sigh, you pull out the creaky chair and slump defeatedly onto the desk. You’re careful to scoot to the edge of the chair so your back doesn’t make contact with his resting jacket, and he doesn’t miss your obvious attempt at distance. It’s known by many that he’s always been a huge fan of himself, and you’d be damned if you ever let him think you were part of that club, too.

“Hey, careful with the outerwear.” Gojo’s selectively ignoring your clear discomfort, opting to poke at you anyway because he just does that. “That’s a pricey jacket, y’know.” His face is serene as he’s clicking through the available channels and making his own little noises when each show is less intriguing than the next.

“Right… I’ll try my best,” you reply disinterestedly with a yawn. You rest your face on the cool wood- anything to mentally take yourself out of the painfully tiny space you and this massive human were expected to share for the evening. It’s been a long day of mundane yet necessary work, and apparently the real work is supposed to happen tomorrow. Being instructed last minute to change your stopping point for the day, you were left with no choice but to call around in a new area until you found an option. Gojo simply shrugged and started searching, not even slightly irritated at the change of plans. It irks you how little your colleague is bothered by, well, anything, because it has to be disingenuous at some point, right? Over time you’ve realized that with him, it truly is a brazen confidence- a kind that you decided was more dangerous than reassuring in reference to your line of work. It’s just unnatural- then again, nothing in your field is, so what’s your real issue with him? The question always leaves you befuddled at your core, and now it’s glaring in your face with the close quarters you’re sharing.

After some time spent listening to Gojo’s disjointed chuckles at whatever was playing, you take out your phone to text Shoko about your dreaded situation. This’ll be a long night, you think, grasping at straws to reason that it’s only temporary and that the smell of his spicy cologne will soon fade away from your senses. You have to say though, the scent fits him pretty well…unlike this miniature room you’re both posted up in.

Your eyes betray you when they briefly flit over again at the man lounging across the bed. It’s quite the spectacle, as the ends of his gangly legs and feet are dangling awkwardly over the edge, yet his expression is serene. The word "cute" passes through your mind and you immediately shush it by reflex, but it’s not as strong as the newfound proximity that prompts you to finally tease him in a dry tone: “Jesus, you’re taking up the whole thing and it’s still not enough.”

“Tell me about it.” He’s quick to react to your statement, and you swear you see his broad chest huff with amusement out of your peripheral. “It must be the price to pay when you’re a dreamy, charming, six foot three Jujutsu Sorcerer,” he adds in a lighthearted tone that seeks feigned sympathy. You’re not looking at him anymore, but you can guess that he’s batting the long white eyelashes that decorate his electric blue eyes. Meanwhile, you’re battling a smile.

Shoko’s not answering your SOS texts, so you actually decide to take the bait in the meantime. “You poor thing,” you coo halfheartedly, “It’s just never enough for you.” You shift, draping your arm over the back of the cheap desk chair that warps under your weight.

“You’re so right! I’m glad someone finally understands.” He points a finger at you, clearly pleased that you’re bantering along, and then he rests that same finger on his pointed chin. “Speaking of nothing ever being enough, I’m starving.” He suddenly sits up, making the bed creak with his movement. It’s apparent that his focus has shifted from the lifeless television show to you. “Who delivers around here?”

Gojo’s nonchalant behavior has the opposite effect on you- it’s disconcerting. At the same time, a very quiet part of you wants to warm up to the idea of finding it endearing. Being annoyed by him was all you knew- how could you ever change now?

The noise that escapes him is pure juvenile glee when you wordlessly open up a delivery app on your phone and sling the device over to him, which he catches with ease before scavenging through the limited number of nearby restaurants. If anything, you’ve never seen him so locked in. You hear him murmur his commentary to himself as he swipes through, picking out his order from his spot on the bed (which is basically the whole thing), and then he abruptly stands up with a matter-of-fact tone in his voice. Without watching him, you hear his steps move somewhere behind your seat.

“Hey, your girlfriend Shoko is texting you. I had no idea I was such a hot subject! Well, maybe I did.”

Oh shit. The heart that previously resided in your chest has plummeted to your stomach. You completely forgot you’d been virtually begging her for moral support when you first arrived at your shoebox of a room.

You muster all your inner strength to maintain a semblance of cool. “Is she on her way to save me?”

The grin on his face is nearly glowing as he reads your screen. “Hah, you wish. It says, and I quote, ’Sorry I’m just now seeing these! How are you and your “Honored One” doing? I promise he’s not as bad as you think he is, LOL.’”

You can feel all the blood in your body rush to your face as Gojo continues to read the message, who is doing everything to refrain from bursting into a fit of laughter. “’At least he’s not the worst looking, and you guys are gonna have to share a bed anyway. Wink emoji, wink emoji.’”

Your world comes screeching to an ugly halt. In this moment, you remind yourself to never text Shoko while you’re in the same room as him- ever again.

“Oh my god… You’re lying. Stop it!” You feel a wave of sickeningly nervous giggles threaten to rack through your body as you fly out of your rickety seat, marching over to the lanky sorcerer and swiping at him for your phone. He tsks, holding the device up from your reach with a mischievous tilt of his head, and you’re sure that you’ve never been this flushed with humiliation before. His muscled arm holds your phone up revealing the chat, and unfortunately, he wasn’t lying. And his voice? It’s smug, obnoxiously so as he taunts you. “This is so much more interesting than ordering food right now. I think I’m gonna answer her. What should I say?”

“Give it back, Satoru Gojo.” You glower up at him, silently knowing your efforts are futile due to your drastic height difference- and that goddamn Infinity ability of his that he loved to show off.

“Oooh, don’t say my full name. It really scares me,” Gojo gasps mockingly before making a show of squinting up at the screen and beginning to type with his other hand. “Let’s try this.” His fingers begin to dance across the screen. “’Shoko, I think I might be falling for Satoru Gojo, all six foot three of him. We’ve had such a romantic evening-‘"

“Jesus Christ, hand it over already!” You’re reaching your limit with tolerating his antics, body teeming in some liminal space between annoyance and mortification. You stretch up again to try and pluck the phone only to make contact with nothing. Fucking showoff. He’s still got his blindfold on, and you’re unable to see how his eyes are completely shimmering with mirth and self-satisfaction.

“Aaand, sent! I think she’ll like that. Anyway, go ahead and add your order to the cart. It’s on me- I remembered to bring the JuJutsu High credit card this time!” Gojo carries on casually like he hasn’t just done the equivalent of planting an explosive in your text messages, feeling incredibly proud of himself as he plops the phone back into your open palm. Glaring up at him and his resilient grin, you are entirely uninterested in eating any kind of food right now. He thinks it’s kind of cute how quickly your face turns ruby red.

You stare at your violated device, blinking in disbelief before looking back up at him. “You’re a real motherfucker, you know that?” You challenge, though your voice isn’t as hostile as it should be.

His large hands fly up defensively. “Whoa, who says I don’t go for daughters either?”

He’s maddening. How do his students stand him? Your free palm has never moved so fast to your face. Resolving into your clunky self-assigned seat, your butt collides firmly with cold wood. “You’re right. Who don’t you go for?” You huff.

Gojo chuckles with his whole chest as he moves to sprawl out over the miniature bed, returning to the original position he was in before he hijacked your text conversation. With blindfolded eyes focused back on the hazy television screen, his hands lock behind his head as he shrugs indifferently. “Never been a big fan of Geminis, to be honest.”

Unreal. He could talk to you in circles like this forever, and only because he knows he gets under your skin that way. You resign, eyeing your phone screen and scrolling through the restaurant he picked to order delivery from. He’s got quite the spread in the cart, complete with an elaborate dessert that could’ve wiped out your savings account.

“Clearly a fan of cheesecake though, holy shit.” The jab doesn’t come out as mean as you intend it to, and honestly, you aren’t sure how much longer you’ll be capable of treating him with this much animosity. You’re already tired, and if you were any more awake you’d realize that your work partner was slowly wearing your guard down, quip by cocky quip.

“Right again. Don’t you just love getting to know me through our intimate time together?”

Shoko is spamming you with an endless barrage of confused and shocked emojis, and you’re far too sleep-deprived to reply. Your entire body flushes at his words as they reverberate in your mind. Intimate is not the right word. No, it shouldn’t be, more like invasive. Right?

“Couldn’t be happier,” you reply curtly, mindlessly picking out whichever menu items are at the top before punching in the room number and credit card info, which was smoothly slid onto the table by Gojo without your prior notice. With your back to him, his gratification is on full display as he pretends to watch whatever crappy show is playing. Winning is his favorite thing in the world, and grating on your nerves is a close second- though really, the two coincide. Part of him wonders how much further he can blur that line.

——————————————————————————————————-

The comically large bag of food is immediately torn open by an eager Gojo the second it lands on the hotel room’s table, and he’s forking together a messy array of sides onto his plate before dragging over a lounge chair from the corner next to yours. He’s sitting far too close for your comfort, but you begrudgingly comply. It wasn’t like he was going to go away anytime soon, even though the night would be so much easier that way. As he shovels his dinner into his mouth, your mind aimlessly ventures as to how he keeps his form so trim with an appetite like that. He’s got to have a strict workout regimen somewhere, though “strict” is a word not often associated with him-

“Hey, your food’s gonna get cold if you keep staring like that.”

Your eyes widen in record time. It’s a hideous realization that you’ve zoned out on watching the renowned sorcerer-turned-temporary-roommate inhale his overpriced dinner, all from being overcome with either exhaustion or acceptance of your cramped situation. At this point, it’s maybe a little of both.

“Sorry,” you mumble, not even caring to articulate a more acidic response. It seems you’re beginning to neutralize into Gojo’s presence, and he mentally takes note of your changing chemistry with him as you quietly stab at your steak bites.

He’s got the perfect opportunity to coo something vain back, like “Don’t apologize, I’d stare too if it were me,” but he doesn’t. He simply keeps eating, sparing you with a less than uncomfortable silence. It’s never been the worst thing between you two given your extensive work history, and you feel yourself soften slightly when the bland hotel room’s air isn’t filled with his assumptive commentary for once. As your plates both get emptier, he feels this sudden need to hold your attention, as you’re less likely to be as combative as you’ve been before. You’re... not so set on hating him.

“You tired?”

Gojo’s two-worded inquiry jars you, almost to the point of choking on your bread. It's something genuine. He closes up one of the empty to-go boxes and shoves it into the takeout bag before pulling out the monstrosity that is his slice of cheesecake. For some reason your heart stammers at how refreshing the possibility of a real conversation with him could actually be.

You’ve got the perfect opportunity to snap something defensive back, like “Yeah, of you,” but you don’t. His shiny eyes shift under the fabric of his blindfold to you, almost prompting you to answer.

“…Yeah, I must be making it pretty obvious,” you say, unintentionally yawning and proving his point. If you were any more relaxed with him, he would’ve told you how cute you looked doing that. You secure your leftovers and start to chuck them into the bag before a large hand suddenly stops you with a “gimme” motion.

“Judging by how easily you’re willing to waste that perfectly good food…it’s not hard to tell,” he prods at you with a grin that you would’ve unnerved you earlier, but at this hour it’s a little more welcoming. Is that a snicker that comes out of you? You hand over the half-eaten order of steak bites to his jubilation, and he’s already popping open the lid to pick one up with his fingers.

Curse your brain in its exhausted state, because it’s nearly hypnotized by his digits. They’re long, dextile, confident somehow. They’re slender and defined, yet capable of serious damage- this you know all too well, and that excites you more than it should. The slice of meat dwarfs in his hold, its shiny reddish myoglobin starting to trickle down his hand and wrist, and it decorates his fine veins and tendons there with its sheen…

No, there’s no way you’re jealous of a piece of meat right now. Did you seriously feel a flutter somewhere that you shouldn’t? Satoru Gojo is literally eating your leftovers with his bare, grubby hands, and you’ve made the fatal error of finding it attractive. Yeah, you’re definitely sleeping in the bathtub tonight before your conflicted mind wanders any further.

He munches on the remainder of your dinner before finally digging into the cheesecake, and you feel blessed for the distraction from your shifting thoughts when you two chat about the mission at hand tomorrow. Is he worried about the curses you’ll be dealing with? No, of course not. According to him, he’s only worried about messing up his hair. Oh, and that expensive jacket you were careful not to touch earlier. With that all that added up, maybe he is nervous about it.

When the conversation dies down, the only sound in the unimpressive hotel room is the game show now playing on the practically vintage television. You quietly scroll your phone while your colleague digs into the soft dessert, stopping suddenly to stick his fork out to you.

“Want a bite? And before you say no, I already told you my cooties aren’t contagious.”

Is this real kindness? You whip your head to face him, studying the glob of caramel-drizzled sweetness, and he’s waving the fork around like a magic wand complete with some convincing “whoosh” sound effects. It’s even more comical with the way he fills his seat, almost like he’s sitting in a doll’s chair. The sight beside you makes you stifle a laugh, and in that moment you realize something: while he constantly irritates you, Satoru Gojo is the brightest, liveliest thing in that damn room. It’s not saying much given the plain wallpaper, dull sheets, and dusty furniture, but it all amounts to him looking pretty good despite your surroundings. If you weren’t sober right now, you’d admit that he looks pretty good just about anywhere. He’s so unfitting, literally, in the drab, cramped space that you almost want to let that very laugh out.

“Eh…I don’t believe you, but even if they weren’t... I couldn’t avoid them in this room anyway,” you joke sleepily, reaching for the fork and pushing the bite of cheesecake past your lips. He’s sitting pretty close, near enough that his spicy cologne still dances in your senses, but if he were any closer you’d swear you could spot him watching how your lips attached so tightly around the plastic silverware. You’re trying desperately to avoid the fact that sharing the fork was like indirectly kissing him, because if you think about it long enough it’ll make you blush all over again. So much for keeping a distance between you two.

You realize something else: he might’ve had a point with his dessert selection. “That is pretty good,” you commentate, handing him back the fork. There’s almost a soft expression on his blindfolded face when he wordlessly pushes the rest of the heaping slice between the two of you, as if the sugary dessert could substitute for a peace treaty. This is how all truces should go, you silently decide.

“Here, have some more in case you die tomorrow,” Gojo tuts with a grin, knowing fully well that you’d be perfectly fine during your assignment the next day. He loves to poke at you, but he can also recognize all the hard work you do. Hell, putting up with him was a full-time job, he could admit.

Your mouth flies open to let out a lighthearted “You asshole,” and you reflexively move to smack his shoulder. You’re even more shocked when your palm actually makes contact with the muscle there..as is he.

Gojo had turned his Infinity off. He must’ve gotten so caught up in wanting to break down your guard this evening that he neglected to remember his own.

“No way, I actually landed a hit on the Satoru Gojo,” you beam. Triumphantly taking another bite of the cheesecake, you feel his gaze train on you. His face-chiseled, you have to say- is conveying something unidentifiable. There’s some surprise and some amusement, but there’s another emotion lingering in the slight rise of his light eyebrows and his relaxed jaw. Something deeper, almost longing. It honestly concerns you for a moment, but he’s quick to recover by slumping backward over the chair, clutching a hand where yours landed just seconds before.

“Abuse! How dare you!” He declares, gripping his shoulder in the throes of his dramatics. “Yaga will be hearing about this. I’m reporting you to the higher-ups!”

“Don’t even. I’ll tell them you sabotaged my technology then,” you counter, waving your phone. “Oh, and that you misused company funds.” You point accusingly at the heap of cheesecake between you both. “And then we’ll both get fired.”

His fists hit the table as he falls forward dramatically. “Ugh…But then we’d end up living here,” he sighs woefully, “and that would be the worst part of all.”

You openly crack up at his refreshing honesty, finally recognizing this room for the shithole that it is, and you feel a newfound warmth spread throughout your chest. “Hmmm… But then we could keep ordering this cheesecake.” Maybe you like bantering with him, you decide.

Gojo chuckles as he stands up from his seat, dragging it back to where it resided in the corner and going along with your bit. “Not if we can’t ‘misuse our funds,’ you tattletale. We better start thinking of a side hustle to keep our lifestyle going.”

There’s a certain weight to “we”s and “our”s that make your heart palpitate just the slightest. It’s like a promise of a future together, a future beyond the uninspiring walls you were forced to rest in tonight. Still in your fit of tired giggles, you close up the remainder of the dessert before sticking it in the hotel room’s loud, antiquated mini fridge. The change of pace between you both is almost freeing, allowing you to consider the idea of actually sleeping somewhat soundly tonight.

“Well, you ponder on that. I’m gonna get ready for bed.” You’re quick to tuck into the bathroom as your laughter dies down, taking your bag with you to switch into the pajamas you packed. All the while, you’re secretly wondering what the sleeping situation is going to look like. You know you’re desperate for rest and given how the evening between you two has warmed a little, the idea of sharing the tiny bed with Gojo is…less than awful to you now. You step out, only to gasp when said man is right outside the door. He’s leaning against the frame with his own bag slung over his shoulder, grinning wickedly and looking all too smug

“My turn, princess. Coming through!”

The novel nickname flutters through your system as he squeezes past you, closing the door in your face with another low chuckle. God, he’s an idiot, you think with a smile, opting to perch in the seat he used for dinner until he returns to the room.

You’re playing a mindless game on your phone when you hear the bathroom door squeak closed, and Gojo plops back into the stiff bed. There’s no shirt on his sculpted body, only a baggy pair of black pajama pants whose waistband barely kisses his narrow hips. Humbled is an understatement when you try not to ogle at the sorcerer before you, whose murder you were secretly plotting just hours before. The skin on your face is akin to the Sun’s surface as you summon every ounce of will not to stare, but his Six Eyes promptly detects the sheepish change in your demeanor.

“So, you sharing this thing with me or what?” He looks over at you in the chair as he stretches over the traverse of the mattress, head propped on one hand while the other toys with his blindfold. “Since you don’t seem to care about my cooties anymore.” The repeated movement of those long, deft fingers looping around the fabric is enough to conjure a flashback to him eating those damn steak bites, and you feel hot all over again. It shouldn’t be suggestive, it really shouldn’t, but the way he’s talking makes it seem like he wants you beside him.

You rest your chin in your hand as you reply with a frown, pretending to think, “Hmmm. That’s gonna be a tight fit.” He snorts in response, something devious but expected on the tip of his tongue, and you realize it as soon as you answer. “Don’t even say it, Gojo.”

He feigns surprise, scooting over and patting the pillow beside him. “Pffft. When have I been known to say anything out of pocket?” He can’t deny the thought of fitting tightly somewhere else, his aqua eyes flashing with a desire he’s never allowed himself to feel for a long time. “Listen princess, you’ve only got two choices for tonight, so pick wisely. There’s somewhere tight-“ he pats the pillow again, -“or somewhere wet.” The thumb previously tugging on the fabric around his eyes jabs toward the bathroom door.

There’s that nickname again. “How erotic,” you snicker, wordlessly complying and letting your exhaustion guide the way to the empty side of the bed. It’s not a ton of space, but you’ll do your best to make it work. Carefully, you slide in to avoid touching him, realizing just how difficult that task is going to be in your limited amount of territory. Should you make a pillow border between you two? No, because then that would take up even more precious space. Maybe if you bunched up some of your blanket-

“Alright! Wait till Shoko hears about this!”

Gojo visibly approves of your choice as he watches you timidly sidle in next to him, wearing that stupidly eager grin on his face and whooping like a sports game attendee. Shooting him a playful glare and an “Oh, enough with you, Six Eyes,” you feel the cool sheets hit your skin, and your body erupts in goosebumps through your thin-ish shirt and shorts. You quickly face the opposite way as him, but not before stealing another glance at his ridiculously toned chest and stomach as he reaches to turn the bedside lamp off. God, he smells so good, like minty toothpaste and his cologne. Darkness abruptly envelops you as your heart pounds, and you have a horrible thought: Who said I wouldn’t be wet sleeping here?

You hear Gojo release a barely audible sigh, almost as if he’s tentative to fall asleep beside you too. He’s not sure who to trust less, you or himself, but he hides his apprehension with a couple more quips as you settle into the compact mattress.

“You have any idea how many people would pay to be where you are right now? You are so lucky.”

He could talk in circles with you again for hours if it meant prolonging the inevitable vulnerability that is unconsciousness beside another person- though a deeper part of him reasons there’s nothing to worry about. Maybe there are other things you could do instead of talk, he thinks, doing little to shake the idea away. It’s kind of nice, way more than nice, the image of you all spread out below him-

The eye roll you respond with is felt by him but not seen in the lightless room. Clouded by an atypical hunger and pure fatigue, you murmur back, “Don’t worry, I tip well,” and a smug smile forms on your face. It’s kind of fun getting to poke back at him. That’s all it is, right? Harmless banter. Gojo senses your intentions on a level unbeknownst to you, though- and he’s not entirely upset at them.

“Listen to you! That was smooth. I just might give you a discount for that.” You hear the sheets rustle beside you, and you slowly turn. He’s fully facing you, boyishly propping his head up on his fist with his near-glowing eyes now exposed. You notice that his blindfold has now been placed neatly on the outdated nightstand. He’s keenly tuned in on you, finding your pajamas a little too cute for a pre-mission night of sleep. It’s clearly getting more difficult for him to deny how entertained he is by the sight of you all snuggled in on your diminutive side of the crappy hotel bed.

You pretend to cover your eyes after seeing his finally revealed to you, feeling thoroughly proud of yourself for matching his energy now. “Put those LEDs away, good lord,” you joke, allowing yourself to let out a sleepy laugh as you pull up the covers to give your bumpy skin some salvation. His intentful gaze is already doing plenty to send heat throughout your limbs though, and the act of grabbing the blanket is an effort in vain. As your eyelids flutter with the weight of tiredness, you understand just how close you two are in the moment. Mentally, you were so much farther away earlier in the evening than you are now- and it takes a second for you to process that you actually like the change.

Gojo laughs softly, and you can hear the late hour begin to seep into his tone. It grows more throaty, lower than before, and it’s entirely too pleasant. Part of you wonders if he’d consider the proposition of reading you a bedtime story. There’s a lingering tension in the air, nearly tangible, and it shifts when you note how his eyes flicker all over your face. Eyes, lips, back to eyes, back to lips.

“Maybe I wanna look at you a little longer. Are you gonna report me to the higher-ups for that, too?” Gojo bats his icy white lashes, his oaky scent further settling into the sheets. The only light in the shoddy room comes from his vibrant irises, and they’re spotlighting on you with piqued interest. The light has always come from him, and it’s an epiphany that has you scooting an inch closer.

“If those things blind me, I will.” You exhale through your nose, partially wishing you could reach out to the heat that radiates off his halfway bare body.

He blinks, and you swear the room flashes dark again for that split second. “Well, y’know, that might be a good thing,” he tries to reason lightheartedly, in a volume just above a whisper. “You wouldn’t have to look at this ugly room anymore.” You watch his hand- the same one you nearly salivated over earlier- land in the limited space between you two, almost as if it wants to cross that border. It takes the most willpower you’ve ever needed not to stare at it, feeling your face flush with a sick anticipation. “I’d be saving you.” Maybe it’s what he’s always wanted to do all along, you both think, and it encourages you to be just as coy back.

In this moment, you feel bold enough to say something you thought would never leave your mouth: “But then I wouldn’t get to look at all six foot three of you.” You pout sarcastically, and Gojo gets the urge to kiss it right off your face. His grin is proud; it’s everything he never knew he wanted to hear.

Your teasing is like a silent permission for his hand to move closer to you, and your entire body stills when you feel it land gently on your lower thigh to play with the frilled hem of your shorts. Must be a pattern of his, you realize. He chuckles, and the sound is so low that you can practically feel it.

“Hmm… You’re right. Again.” Your work partner’s head tilts down slightly at you, and his expression is overcome with what can only be described as relief. “Guess I need to save you some other way.” He notices the goosebumps adorning your figure, and suddenly you’re pressed up against his broad chest. God, he’s so warm, you don’t even realize the way you’re curling right up into him. Somehow, despite your height difference, you fit perfectly along his lanky frame.

“Better?”

You are tired, fatigued beyond belief, but you’d be stupid not to stay awake to experience Satoru Gojo letting his guard down for you. Perhaps this dismal hotel room was a test of will for you two, and while you’re not entirely sure what denotes passing or failing, you do know one thing: Satoru Gojo is unbelievably comfortable to cuddle with.

Still…you wonder what would unfold if you pushed further.

“Hmmm… still not warm enough.” The words leave you before you can tame them, and the unspoken invitation behind them makes his eyebrows raise. The hand playing with the fabric of your shorts squeezes into your skin just the slightest, prompting you to look up at him where you see no reserves on his handsome (God, it’s good to admit that) face. His soft pink lips hover inches from your own, drawing closer like magnets.

“Really.” You feel a thumb rub slow circles along your outer thigh. “I can fix that for you, yeah?” His words shoot straight to your core as his head ducks a little lower, just breaths away from yours.

Well, you’re definitely not tired anymore.

“If you’re still offering that discount…” you breathe out. A rush of smugness allows you to bring your hands to his toned chest, traveling up to trace his defined collarbone. His skin is soft, almost velvety, most likely from years of keeping his perimeter so trained to avoid any unnecessary contact, and the act of smoothing your fingers over it becomes soothing.

Gojo’s lopsided grin conveys the desire he’s suppressed for so long, seemingly caught up in this new dynamic with you. “Nah, we’ll put it on the credit card,” he finally laughs before confidently pressing his lips to yours.

He is an entirely new taste, and you’re not able to reference his movements to anything or anyone; it’s another level of tact and precision. Did he plan this? His kisses are the perfect mix of messy and firm, and it’s clear he’s doing all but holding back. Something unlocks as he goes through the motions, maybe the realization of the snapped tension or maybe the feeling of you kissing back just as passionately, and his mouth soon scatters everywhere from your lips to your jaw to your neck in a flurry of teeth and tongue. He’s somehow magically in tune with your most sensitive areas of the exposed skin as his lips wander, leaving you to grab his firm bicep and cling as if he’s grounding you to the earth. The details of the dingy hotel room are completely abandoned as you feel your senses envelop, finally, with all that is Satoru Gojo, and there was truly no beauty greater than that.

Chest heaving, you almost let out a laugh at how rapidly the night has shifted. His well-trained hands travel, one squeezing the tissue of your breast over your thin shirt while the other dances just below the leg of your shorts. With all walls down, it’s pointless to hide the effect his touch has on you. If his hand moved any higher, he’d discover how wet you were- part of you dreaded how inflated his ego would become after that, but the other, hungrier part of you needed him to do it.

“Anyone ever told you-“ Gojo breathes out between his attack, brushing a thumb over your hardened nipple, “how pretty you are?” He is all too focused on drinking in your features, finding your weakest and favorite points. Your back arches ridiculously easily into his touch as you struggle to find the words to answer him.

“N-no one else that’s mattered.”

You’re sure his ego will balloon rapidly upon that little admission, but you partly didn’t care- not when he was capable of making you feel so unbelievably good.

He’s rightfully amused at how blatant your desire is now. “Oh? So I do matter to you then.” His other hand roams up your thigh, threatening to reach where you wanted it most. You snicker before a shudder erupts from you when a long, hot stripe is licked down your neck and over your shoulder, and it’s all you need to swing your leg over his, straddling him on the stiff, narrow mattress. The flex of his abs as he sits up to accommodate you is nothing short of poetic, and you find more prose in the clouded, desperate fog of his azure eyes when he watches you with curiosity. He immediately rests his grip on your waist, pressing you down gently onto what can only be described as a monster underneath his sweats. You understand now why he carries himself the way that he does: He’s fucking huge.

You push your chest against his, unable to stop the twitch of your hips when you feel Gojo’s hardness brush against your heat. The wetness of your arousal is sure to be felt through the fabric, and he’d be silly to halt your admittedly cute display of attempts in chasing just an ounce of pleasure. Your flushed face, furrowed eyebrows, small noises, it’s motion picture to him. However, he selfishly wants to be that pleasure for you, and he’s quick to slide a hand down your body to cup your pussy through your pajamas.

Your jaw goes slack as Gojo’s hand makes contact with your most sensitive area over your shorts, and the circles he rubs help him collect some of the condensation from the fabric. It feels good, but not good enough, and you can’t help but huff at the restricted movement. He is all too cocky when his hand pulls away, eyeing it with an intense mirth.

“Damn, waterworks, you always get this wet?” He’s half-amazed and half-amused as he studies his glistening fingers, his other hand gripping at your ass. “That’s so hot.”

“Shut up, Satoru.” You smack his bare shoulder before burying your face into it, feeling your cheeks turn crimson. He chuckles, finding you adorable when you’re embarrassed yet hating that you feel that way. He knows just how to help you get over that, and he starts by slowly sliding his body down, holding your thighs spread as he maneuvers his head onto the flat-ish pillow. You glare down confusedly at him in his newfound position, only to meet with eager cerulean eyes that are practically begging to pull you closer.

“Fine then, I’ve got other stuff I wanna do with my mouth anyway,” you hear him murmur from between your thighs, and his hand brushes over your clothed, throbbing cunt again. “Now sit, princess.”

“Huh? No, you won’t be able to breathe, I can’t.” Your head shakes vigorously in disapproval. Not that you didn’t want them there, but there was no way… you’d probably end up suffocating the guy, and while you had a more murderous urge to do that earlier this evening you’d much rather-

“Fine with me, now lemme taste you,” Gojo insists with almost a whine in his tone, not letting you respond before pulling the soaked crotch of your shorts to the side and licking a long, forceful line from your hole to your clit. You moan when he does it again, and again, feeling your knees weaken to finally sink yourself onto his mouth. The groan that vibrates against your nerve endings makes you look down, only to see his frosty white lashes flutter as you fill his senses. This was well worth the hours of wearing down your resolve this evening.

His movements become frantic, desperate to experience you now that he’s let his guard down this long with no dire consequences. You feel his tongue lap at your sensitive clit, and his lips kiss in your heat so loudly and wetly that it sounds like a porn scene. Your hands fly to his ivory hair, gripping till his scalp stings. This makes him groan again, and you can barely control the way your hips start to rock along his mouth.

Gojo breaks away for a split second, tongue dragging along your inner thigh with his cock nearly in pain because of he’s got you where he wants you. “Just like that, baby, ride my face,” he huffs quickly before returning to flattening his tongue along your clit. You feel him squeeze the cheeks of your ass, forcing you onto the hot muscle and encouraging you to continue.

He seems to be breathing just fine, you realize- which of course he is, he’s Satoru fucking Gojo- he could handle just about anything. It gives you the confidence to rut your hips forward, moaning louder when his lips wrap around your overstimulated nerve and suck hard. You earn a playful smack on your ass when his name slips out of your mouth, and the stinging sends you further into your frenzy for pleasure as you start to build up a pace. It’s addicting, really, the way he’s lapping and sucking at your aching cunt like it’s his favorite dessert, and you’re suddenly thankful that he has the appetite that he does. He breaks away for a second to spit into your heat, spreading your slick folds wide with those deft fingers of his, and that only has you rocking harder along his mouth when he reattaches himself. To him, you are so much better than any sweet he’s had.

You don’t even realize you’re doing it, but you’re tugging Gojo’s snowy tresses in shallow efforts to further bury his face in your cunt as you ride it, and he’s all too happy that you’re using him in this way. As his tongue prods up into your tight entrance, he feels his cock throb again at the prospect of how it would feel inside of you. He groans at the thought, and you feel it all the way up in your ribcage. He’s already picked up on the fact that you’re close, judging by how your frantic movements have sped up and the way you’re babbling incoherent praises that only make him ache more.

“Fuck, Satoru, feels so- good- please…”

When Gojo lets out a little laugh at that, you feel your slick dribble messily down your thighs. That hot, blinding pressure grows stronger under your navel when you grind harder on his tongue, threatening to spill over when he starts to flick it along your clit to match your pace. It all feels so deliciously good that you pay no mind to his nails digging into your flesh, his own way of ensuring he’s leaving a mark- as if he hasn’t decorated your neck in shades of blotchy fuchsia already.

“I’m-so-close….”

He gives your ass another smack with your breathy cry, looking up at you with eyes that nearly beam. You look down while your hips continue to drag along his tongue, finding him just so damn pretty while he’s eating you so good, and you ease your fingers in his hair. That impending sensation grows stronger, and he quickly parts from your lips to murmur confidently:

“I know, princess, I got you. Lemme have it.”

His choice of words and the way he immediately goes back to lapping at your heat are both more than enough to have you coming apart around his tongue in mere seconds. There is nothing in your mind’s eye but Gojo as your high overtakes you, fizzling through your being and prompting you to cry out his name as if it’s a chant. He soaks it all in, helping you ride out your release before slowing to kiss his way back up your body. You’ve never come that hard- and somehow, he senses this too. Your legs feel like jelly when he’s finally face-to-face with you, and his is glistening with your arousal. If he wasn’t desperate to be inside of you right now he could do that for hours, he thinks.

You lean in, capturing your lips with Gojo’s and wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him deeply. Your own taste on your lips does little to dissuade you from him, and for the next few moments, you both feverishly rip off whatever clothing is still unfortunately on your bodies. He, as gracefully as he can given the annoyingly small hotel bed, maneuvers you onto the pillow so you’re lying on your back, and you feel his heavy cock hit your stomach. He pauses for a second to study your features, finding that every inch of you is worth burning to memory. You’re stunning like this, all sticky and flushed and needy, and it’s all because of his efforts. He’s only more gratified when your mouth flies open at his impressive size.

“You're kidding. That's not gonna fit,” You sputter, still in your post-orgasm daze, but you feel your hole clench around nothing when you notice the filmy drops of pre beading around his thick tip.

His laugh is genuine, almost melodic as he pumps himself a few times. “Such a downer. We’ll make it fit, ‘kay?” Gojo promises with a goofy grin, letting his hand wander along your bare nipples and stomach before eventually revisiting your now sore cunt. You hiss in delight when he slides one of his long fingers in, and your legs spread automatically at the intrusion. Even in the most cramped bed ever, you’d realize you’d make room for him anywhere. You reach out, dragging your hand along his chiseled stomach, nearly in awe at how firm the muscles are there. He’s like if art was living, breathing, unrestricted from a canvas or frame.

Your hand slides further, silently encouraging his own to move so you can take over stroking his hardened cock as his finger curls along your hot walls. You moan quietly, watching his breath hitch in his broad chest- he’s not sure whether to watch your face or your movements, and there’s an eagerness within him that amplifies when he sees how tightly you’re sucking in just a digit of his. His hips jut forward slightly when your thumb brushes his sensitive tip, and he finally decides to look into your eyes. You stare back, wanting to say so much about how his are the perfect shade of blue.

“Y’know why I harass you so much?” He asks in a tone that reaches a new level of softness for him, and you entertain his question as he slowly introduces a second finger. The stretch is delicious, though you think it’s doing little to prep for the monstrosity that awaits you.

“‘Cause you’re Satoru Gojo?” You reply before letting out a hiss at a particularly sensitive spot he hits within you.

He snorts. “Well, yeah, and ‘cause I think you’re pretty. Inside and out. Gorgeous, actually.”

You blush a little at how he turns a silly banter into a very real confession, and you watch his eyelids flutter again. Actually, you feel kind of bad for being so lighthearted while he was being serious- that was his thing, anyway. Times like these were what made his bluntness endearing, and he continues, beginning to align his length with your dripping entrance after slowly removing his fingers.

“So, lemme prove it.”

Feeling all kinds of giddy you nod, angling your thighs so his hips can fit between them. His spongy tip drags through your slick folds, and it’s the most you’ve ever felt another person focus so directly on you. You look up at him, bringing your hands up his stomach and to his defined shoulders as his tip sinks into you just the slightest.

“Well, you’re pretty too, like otherworldly handsome,” you admit back with a timid smile, clearly trying to regain your breath. “Just couldn’t tell you ‘cause you were too busy harassing me.” You exhale when he submerges himself a little more, and he smiles back with his pearly white teeth. “You’re fucking huge, too… oh my god…” you add, moaning a little at how his cock feels nothing like his fingers. You hate to admit it, but it’s clear he’s set to wreck you.

“Naturally.” He’s using every ounce of strength to control himself from pounding into you, responding to your praise and your criticism all at once. Gojo slowly and gently pushes in until his hips are flush with yours, and it feels as if he’s tearing you from the inside. Your face is scrunched at the intrusion, and he has to cover his own mouth to stop a moan at how tight you feel. There’s no other convincing needed by him that your pussy was practically made for him, he thinks, and he studies your features for any indication of stopping.

“Look at you,” he coos, nearly mesmerized by how your cunt has already swallowed him whole. His hand slides down his face to tweak at one of your hardened nipples. “And you said I wouldn’t fit. Takin’ it like a pro, princess.” His lighthearted motivation makes you snicker a little, and it eases some of the stinging from the stretch he’s causing. He gives you a few shallow thrusts, and his eyes practically roll to the back of his head when your hot walls grip around him. It takes a few moments for you to adjust to his size, and when finally you do, you give him the silent go-ahead by softening your expression. His grin could blind a room full of people when he thrusts deeper, not only reaching that same sensitive spot but finding another, and it makes your head loll back to the pillow.

That reminds him. He pauses for a second to slide one of the cheap hotel pillows under your tailbone, and suddenly his cock feels like it’s colliding with your guts when he continues his movements. Your mouth couldn’t fall any more open as he starts to establish a pace, filling you so masterfully yet harshly with every stroke.

“Sa-to-ru…” you pant, digging your nails into Gojo’s sculpted back, and this only motivates him more. You have a realization that could either be horrible or amazing: How could you ever fuck anyone else again? Again and again he’s thrusting into that magical spot till the sounds of your wetness fill the otherwise lackluster room, spoiling you for any other and reassuring you that yes, he really is the strongest. Part of him knows how skilled he is, and he has to refrain from laughing- no one would ever be enough once he was done with you. Then again, he never wants to be done with you.

You feel his tactful hands roam your body aimlessly, a visible sign of his enrapture with how you receive him. He wants to focus on watching his cock slam into your cunt over and over, but he also wants to watch your face as you writhe and cry out his name- he’s clearly conflicted.

The little breathy noises slipping out of him aren’t helping your cause, and the way he abruptly throws one of your legs over his broad shoulder doesn’t either. He’s now rutting into your tight heat relentlessly, a stark contrast from how delicately he’s kissing up the thigh that’s pressed into his chest.

“Your pussy is...perfect,” you hear Gojo groan, drawing the words out, and his kisses along your thigh become animalistic as they turn into bites. You whimper, back arching with all the sensations filling your system, and that heady feeling in your tummy begins to strengthen again. “Wanna-fuck you- forever…”

“Please,” you agree as your ability to form sentences leaves you. “Don’t ever- stop…”

In a perfect world, he wouldn’t. As one hand holds your thigh to his chest and the other travels to your overstimulated clit, his shiny blue eyes watch your contorting face, smiling proudly when you moan at how his fingers rub tight circles along your nerves. He can feel his release approaching alongside yours, and your slick walls flutter around his cock as he pummels into you.

“Want another one, princess,” Gojo pants, making your skin smack against his as your orgasm builds up in your tummy. “Go on, come on- my cock…”

His wish is your command. You quickly lean forward, mashing your lips with his when the pleasure fizzles out of you all over again. You feel the tips of your toes burn at how powerfully your release hits you, wracking your body with an almost overwhelming amount of pleasure. You’re reduced to a heaving, shaking mess, convulsing around his length and left only able to babble his name against his mouth in your state of bliss. His hand cradles the back of your head as he fucks you through the aftershock and kisses you roughly, only to follow close behind just moments later. His movements falter before your name falls from his lips, and his hips stutter as you feel yourself start to fill with his thick seed.

Holy shit. Who would’ve guessed that this was how your evening would turn out? Just mere hours ago you wanted to claw at his throat, and instead you clawed at his back because of how good he was dicking you down. Your mind swims as Gojo slowly withdraws, slipping out of your sore cunt to collapse beside you in what little space the hotel bed offered. He’s even gorgeous like this, maybe more than ever actually. You’re observing how his ivory hair sticks to his forehead and his back glistens with the thinnest layer of sweat from his efforts, the muscles there decorated with thin red indents from your nails. It’s a sight worth recreating an infinite number of times.

Not having him envelop all your senses anymore forces you back into reality, where a mission lies just hours ahead of you and your shared hotel room isn’t any prettier. And unbelievably, those things don’t even matter anymore. All you can perceive and recognize in your afterglow is Satoru Gojo, who is already regaining his breath while you lie there like a fucked-out mess. Beautiful.

Gojo turns to face you, watching your chest rise and fall as you regulate yourself, and his delighted grin is all too perfect for someone who just obliterated you.

“So…you warm enough now?”

Your sticky body shifts to face him, vibrating with laughter as you answer “For now, yes…” and your head hits the pillow exhaustedly. That’s right- you were already tired before this “development” even happened.

His whole being is pure elation as he languidly drapes an arm over your bare figure. “Does that mean we get to do that again? I think she really likes me.” His hand brushes over your abused cunt, and your body flares at his touch yet again. It was a sick epiphany that he could destroy you and you’d still want more.

You snicker. “Yes, but she is super sore right now.” The sleepiness from earlier seeps into your brain, and you find yourself curling back into his lanky frame. He accepts you openly, resting a hand on your ass as he scoops you closer.

“I can kiss her better,” he pipes up quietly, already thinking of all the ways he could keep touching you. Even though you feel that droning buzz of want again, you tiredly shake your head, regretfully reminding him “Noooo, we’ve gotta get up in a few hours. Maybe after our mission.” You swear his eyes desaturate a shade before he sighs.

“Yeah yeah yeah. You’re gonna be tired and sore anyway.”

“Oh, and you’re not?”

“Nah.” Gojo moves to press a fresh batch of kisses all over your neck, and you shudder. He did have a point- you were already planning on shotgunning whatever energy drinks were in the dingy hotel lobby’s vending machine in the morning, as if they even had one. “I could go all night if you wanted, princess. Give you more of my cooties.”

You laugh freely, realizing he probably wasn’t exaggerating. It’s quite the offer from the one who just wrecked you so good- and you’d be silly to refuse despite your tiredness. You feeling your limbs tangle into each other’s, returning thoughts of the hazardous hotel drifting away once more, and your arousal slowly revisits you. What an incredible way to forget about your surroundings. You tug playfully on his icy tresses, you decide that this might be your new favorite kind of exhaustion. “As long as you don’t share your cooties with anyone else.”

Snickering, Gojo keenly zeroes on spreading your aching legs so he can see the aftermath from earlier, and he’s hardening again at the sight of his thick cum barely trickling out onto your thighs. With a mischievous smile, he assures you, “Never. This is just too pretty. Plus, you said you were gonna tip well.”

His hands trace you, and there’s not a more discernible indicator of your new bond with him than when you look down at his length, answering him in a familiarly cheeky tone, “Well, you already did.” He laughs, the warmest he's ever allowed himself, and it's certain he's keeping his promise.

Turns out, Shoko was right about him.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk smut #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojou x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #mdni #jjk #jjk x you #satoru gojo

[mysterystarz]

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.

©mysterystarz all rights reserved, please do not plagiarize, translate, or modify my fics in any way even if credited

if you got this far, thank you for reading <3!!

#nova scribbles <3 #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa x y/n #oikawa x you #oikawa tooru fluff #oikawa tooru angst #oikawa tooru x you #oikawa tooru x y/n #oikawa headcanons #oikawa fic #hq oikawa #haikyuu oikawa #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x female reader #haikyuu x f!reader #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #hq fluff #hq x reader #hq x you #hq imagines #haikyuu #kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsurou

[russos-one]

Kyra Cooney-Cross X !FemReader

Summary- Growing up with Kyra

Word count- 4,675

Warnings- Swear words, way to much backstory but its fine i think, Fingering !Kyra receiving if you want to skip the smut ** signifies when it starts and stops, oral, fluff

Author's note- Towards the end of the fic you can tell I gave up and just cut it short lmao but we don't talk about that this is a long-ass fic so it is fine.

I would lie and say its proof read but its not lol

[Childhood buddies]

Kyra is cheeky alone but she’s even cheekier with her other half, Y/n. You will never find Kyra without Y/n and Y/n without Kyra. Those two are always together like two peas in a pod. One goes to Arsenal the other goes to Arsenal, one assists the goals one scores them.

The two have been friends since they were 6 and 7 years old having met at school after a football match and the two of them being the only girls. After the game they talked and instantly clicked, having more in common then just football, the both of them grew up in Queensland and both played for the same club. Kyra and Y/n’s family often weren’t surprised when one was at the other's house. The two of them often had sleepovers together. The duo went up in the ranks together and both had their debut for the Matilda’s together, Y/n scoring a goal and Kyra assisting it and they won them game five to one, it was a dream debut for the duo.

Two years later on the month before the World Cup the teams were selected. The duo being at home together awaiting for the call that would decide if they went to the world cup together or not. First came Kyra’s call and she answered excitedly, Tony gave her the news that she’s in the World Cup 2023 squad and the two instantly had smiles on their faces. After that call had ended it was now Y/n’s turn, the room was tense. 12 minutes after Kyra received her call, Y/n’s phone had began to ring, she checked the phone number and it was Tony, she answered immediately and as soon as Tony broke the news that she would be going to the World Cup with her best friend by her side and the two of them sprung of the couch with two large smiles excited that they can experience this together after composing herself Y/n thanked Tony appreciatively and the called ended. The two celebrated with a movie marathon in their apartment with way too much candy and popcorn.

A month later it's time for the world cup, the first game of the tournament came with the aussies winning against Republic of Ireland one to zero with their captain Steph Catley scoring a beautiful penalty. Not long after the game against the Nigerians came, they started of strong, with a goal from Emily Van Egmond in the first minute of stoppage time but not long after the Nigerians score making it one to one at the end of halftime, as the second half begins the matildas can't seem to get a goal no matter how hard the push they concede in the sixty-fifth minute and again in the seventy-second minute. 

The Aussies are struggling but they managed to score a goal in the tenth minute of stoppage time a bit before the full-time whistle is blown with the result being the Nigerian side win against the Aussies three to two. All they have to do is top their group and they qualify for the round of sixteen. The next game the matildas play is against Canada with Canada being in favour of winning but never doubt the Aussies, in the ninth minute Hayley Raso receives

a beauty of a ball from Steph Catley and scores at the edge of the box, bringing the aussies with a goal lead in the early minutes of the game. In the thirty-sixth minute of the game Mary Fowler scores a goal but it unfortunately is not counted due to being offside but, not long after in the thirty-ninth minute the matildas are awarded a corner kick with Kyra taking it, she lifts up one of her hands signifying what type of kick it's going to be, she kicks it and it lands at the head of Y/n and she headers it in, Kyra running to Y/n straight away celebrating with her best friend. The aussie side gets another goal in the fifty-eighth minute with the goal scorer being none other than Mary Fowler with Caitlin Foord getting the assist credit but they don't stop there, in the fourth minute of stoppage time Australia are awarded with a penalty, Steph takes it and she scores giving the Australian side a four goal lead in the ninety-fourth minute. The game ended a few minutes later with the Australian side extremely happy with their performances in the past games and finishing top of their group. It's time for the round of sixteen.

The first game they play in the round of sixteen is against Denmark, in the beginning its a rough game for the defenders on each side but in the twenty-eighth minute the aussies get the ball moving, it starts with Mary interfering with the danish sides pass and running the ball towards the halfway mark with Y/n making a run forward Mary sends a cross to her and Y/n finishes it wonderfully. In the seventieth minute Australia managed to score again with the finisher being Hayley who had received a ball from Van Egmond making it two to zero. After a couple chances for both sides, the game finally finishes with the Australian team winning once again.

The Aussies make it into the quarter-finals and it is against their toughest challenge yet, France. Before the game their captain Steph gives a speech to the team after her Sam and Tony all give words of motivation to the team before the game and discuss tactics. The game is about to start with both Kyra and Y/n starting for every game so far nothing is different now, the two have had an amazing tournament so far, especially for their first World Cup ever. The two do the same thing before every game no matter what and that is hugging each other for a good minute and whispering words of affirmation to each other, the two complete their before-match routine and go to the lineup, Y/n lining up behind Caitlin and Kyra lining up behind Y/n. The game starts and it is high-paced and intense straight away with both sides having early chances and wonderful saves from the goalkeepers but no matter how hard both sides push they just can't seem to score. The halftime whistle is blown. Both Tony and Steph give words of encouragement to the team and discuss tactics for the second half. The second half begins and in the fifty-fifth minute Emily is subbed off for Sam who gets her first appearance in this World Cup due to unfortunately sustaining a calf injury but she's back now. In the second half, nothing changed. The two sides still couldn't score a goal no matter what, so it went to extra time after ninety minutes. It's been one hundred minutes since the game started and both sides are beginning to get tired after running nonstop for 50 minutes straight. Still after the 1o minutes of extra time, the two sides can't score a goal so it's time for some substitutions, in the one hundred and fourth minute Hayley is subbed off for Cortnee. But still, both sides are relentless and not letting in any goals and six minutes later there's another break. The game begins again and in the one hundred and sixteenth minute Kyra is subbed off for Tameka. But even after all the subs the two sides still can't score and it goes to penalties.

France are first to kick and they miss, it's now Australia's turn and it's Catlin, and she scores! After her the French sides go again, Kadidiatou Diani goes up and she unfortunately scores making it even. It's now Stephs turn, she goes up and kicks the ball towards the goal but it is saved by the french goalkeeper. It's the French again and Wendie Renard goes up and she scores making it two-one France, once again it's the Aussies turn and Sam goes up and scores making it two-two. It's now time for the French to go again, Le Sommer goes up and scores. It's now the tillies go again and Mary scores making it even four-four. Mackenzie misses but so does Eve, Giyora goes and scores it's not Katrina's go and if she misses the Matildas are out of the world cup, she shoots and scores. Its now Karchaouies goes and she scores then teka goes but she also scores so it's even again at five-five. Lakrar goes and scores then Ellie and she also scores making it six-six, now it's Dali’s turn and she misses but so does Clare so it's now up to the deciding penalty, Becho misses and Cortnee scores! The matildas are through to the semi finals for the first time ever in all of Australia's history, but it only gets harder from here.

It's the semifinal game against England and the Aussies lose three-one and they can no longer win the world cup but they can go home with at least some sort of medal. It's Australia vs Sweden for the bronze medal, Australia try their hardest but they just can't seem to win it, they go home with no medals.

After the world cup Kyra and Y/n received a massive amount of support and fame, the new fans that had discovered some old photos of the two very close and that's where the dating rumours started, it didn't really bother the two being used to it and often being mistaken as a couple with being how close they were.

Kyra received a call from her manager saying that Arsenal wanted her and she had some time to think about it. Only a few hours after Kyra’s manager called her Y/n received a call from her manager saying that Arsenal also wanted her. Y/n calling Kyra instantly telling her to come over to tell her the news. Y/n tells Kyra the news and Kyra instantly has a smile on her face and tells Y/n how she also received a call from her manager telling her that Arsenal wants her but she wasn't going to take it if Y/n wasn't with her. The two called both their managers and accepted Arsenal's offer. On the sixteenth of September, twenty-twenty-three Arsenal announced the signing of Cooney-Cross and only a day later on the seventeenth, they announced Y/ln’s signing. Ian Wright wanted Arsenal to recruit Cooney-Cross and Y/ln after their impressive performance in the World Cup 2023. He asked Steph Catley, Cooney-Cross's and Y/ln’s fellow Matilda and Arsenal player, to convince Jonas to offer them a spot in the club and after doing some research he instantly agreed after seeing their chemistry on the pitch together. The Ausenal went crazy over this not only are there 2 more Aussies in the squad but it's the dynamic duo that everyone loves Kyra and Y/n who doesn't love them at this point. 

The two had their debut for Arsenal together On the 1st of October 2023 on the opening day of the 2023-24 season, in a 0-1 loss to Liverpool. Even though they did lose on their debut they still had a great time at Arsenal, often hiding their teammates' things and covering Katie's locker with a bunch of green things and an Ireland flag. The duo often got in trouble by the older girls with the two often acting as the annoying younger sisters of the squad always somehow getting into trouble. The two moved in with Steph and her fiance Dean seeing as she has the biggest house and acted as a mother figure towards the two. Soon after

they moved into the house they caused a ruckus constantly pranking the couple and at one point the two switched out Stephs shampoo with blue hair dye.

“Y/N  Y/M/N  Y/L/N AND KYRA LILEE COONEY CROSS CAN ONE OF YOU EXPLAIN WHY MY HAIR IS BLUE” the two looked at each other and then looked at Dean who was sitting on the couch next to them eating a ham sandwich he chuckled and then said

“The two of you better run before she chucks a shoe at your heads”

The two young adults ran as fast as they could to their room with Calvin on their tail and jumping on Kyra’s bed and as soon as Calvins in they closed the door and locked it.

“Y/n, this was a horrible idea shes going to fucking kill us”

“It's not like it's permanent, it will only last for a wee- Wait! Why are you blaming me, this was your idea”

“Yeah, but you encouraged me!”

“Okay, relax, calm down. It's not like she is going to kill u-” 

Out of nowhere the two hear a quite aggressive knock on the door.

“If the two of you don't unlock this door right now i won't hesitate to take away your phones”

Kyra walks over to the door and unlocks it, cracking it open just a bit and poking her head through to see an angry blue haired Steph.

“Eheh. Hey Steph, I love your hair, did you do something to it?”

Y/n then pokes her head through and laughs immediately and then Calvin pokes his head through. Steph stares into Y/n’s eyes rather intensely.

“Do you think this is funny?”

“Yeah I kind of do”

Y/n receives a slap on the arm from Kyra who then says

“She didn't mean that”

“No i did”

“Y/n!”

“That's my name!”

“Okay! Enough, the two of you are banned from seeing eachother again unless its for games”

After hearing that Kyra opens the door fully.

“Wait, you're joking right?”

“No! I am not joking, all the two of you do is cause trouble when you are together so until the both of you prove yourselves that you will stop these pranks you two aren't seeing each other anymore”

“No! Wait Steph, we are sorry! We haven't been away for each other for more than 4 days, we will literally die if you seperate us”

“No. No more excuses. So who's moving and who's staying?”

Y/n goes on her knees.

“PUHLEASE I AM-” she pulls Kyra to her knees and then Calvin sits besides the two

“WE ARE BEGGING YOU”

“No, the two of you have had enough chances. Im calling Caitlin im sure she would be delighted to have one of you”

After a few hours of the two being depressed together and crying about how much they are going to miss each other acting like they aren't going to see eachother 5 days a week for Arsenal training. The two of them quite literally got banned from seeing and talking to each other unless it was for the games. But one night when Y/n was feeling lonely without her other half she left Caitlins apartment at 2:48am and called an uber to Stephs house, she made her was to the side of the house where Kyra's room was, she could faintly see a light coming from her room and she prayed that Kyra was awake and climbed up to her window, she looking through the window to see Kyra writing in her notebook on her desk with her back to the window. Y/n knocks on the window about 17 times and Kyra still doesn't even notice after a while she notices the window is unlocked and opens the window. Y/n walks over to Kyra slowly and quickly places her hands on Kyras shoulders while saying boo.

Kyra instantly turns around and after realising who it is she hugs her immediately and shoves her face into Y/n's neck and releases a sigh.

“I've missed you so much”

“I've missed you more, but did you really have to scare me? And wait- how did you even get in here?” 

The two finally separate and look into eachothers eyes.

“Well after knocking on your window about a million times I finally realised it was open and now here we are”

“I'm so glad you're here”

“Likewise”

“Anyways what are you doing awake at this time?”

The two finally sit on Kyras bed together while facing each other with the only light being the nightlight in the corner of the room, Y/n chuckles to herself remembering all the times when they were kids and Kyra forced Y/n to check the room for monsters when they had sleepovers.

Y/n counters the question “What are you doing up at this time?”

“I asked first”

Y/n sighs “Fine, i couldn't sleep, i couldn't stop thinking about something- well more so someone” Y/n starts to fiddle with the ring(s) on her finger(s), Kyra notices and grabs Y/n’s hands and looks into her eyes.

“What- who were you thinking about” Y/n looks up from her hands and looks into Kyras eyes.

“You”

The both of them lean into each other and their lips touch clash. The kiss is intense and passionate, it's filled with emotions built up over several years, the duo separate and look into each other's eyes.

“I've been wanting to do that since i was 17”

“I've been wanting to do that since i was 16”

“That was amazing”

“I agree, want to do it again?”

***

The two lean into each other once again, Y/n taking control of the kiss while Kyra leans back onto her bed, Y/n is now hovering over Kyra, your faces just inches away from each other.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Y/n says while searching Kyras eyes for any discomfort.

“Yes”

With the affirmation that Kyra really wants to do this Y/n leans in for another kiss, taking control in a flash, the kiss is intense, both fighting for dominance but Y/n wins. The two separate from the kiss and Kyra releases a whine. Y/n chuckles

“So needy already?” While trailing her hand down to the bottom of Kyras shirt, lifting it up over her hand to see Kyra was wearing no bra, Y/n chuckled and Kyra instantly turned red.

“No bra?”

“I was about to go to sleep! I wasn't really expecting this to happen!”

“Hey, I'm not complaining!”

Out of nowhere Y/n leans down to Kyras left breast while kneading the other one with her right hand. She sucks and bites on her boob while Kyra lets out a plethora of moans while grasping Y/n’s hair and pushing her further down her body. Y/n grabs at the waistband of Kyras shorts and pulls them down painfully slowly. Kyra whines.

“Patience is key baby”

Y/n places kisses on Kyras stomach. Kyra bucks her hips.

“Please”

Finally Y/n places her hand on Kyras clothed pussy, Kyra releases another whine while Y/n just chuckles.

“So wet already?”

“Please- just- please”

“Please what, baby?”

“Please- just fuck me, im begging you”

“Whatever you want my love”

Y/n finally pulls down Kyras underwear and teases her lips, Kyra whimpers while bucking her hips towards Y/n’s hand. Finally Y/n shoves two fingers into Kyras pussy and she lets out a loud moan.

“Shhh, we don't want anyone else hearing do we?”

Y/n starts moving her fingers inside Kyras pussy and finds that spongy spot inside her and Kyra lets out a loud moan which is quickly muffled by Y/n shoving the two fingers that were previously in her pussy into her mouth.

“Taste yourself my love”

Kyra moans around Y/n’s fingers and as Y/n takes them out there's a string of saliva, Y/n then sucks on her fingers tasting a mix of Kyra's arousal and spit. Y/n then gets Kyra's panties that she previously placed on the bed and shoves them in Kyra's mouth.

“Will you be quiet now?”

Kyra nods.

“Good”

Y/n goes back down to Kyras pussy and shoves two fingers inside again, her fingers filling her. Y/n pumped in and out of Kyras pussy intensely. She could tell she was getting close by the way she kept trying to close her legs. Y/n took her fingers out and instead used her hands to hold Kyra's legs apart and instead used you mouth to get Kyra of, she sucked on her clit and Kyra let out a loud muffled whine, she then shoved her tongue into her pussy and used her thumb to rub Kyras clit. Kyras hand went to Y/n's hair and the other one was going to grasp at the duvet of the bed.

Kyra cums, harder than she's ever come in her life. Y/n licks it all up, moaning while doing so. She then makes her way up Kyras body and removes the panties from Kyras mouth and kisses her roughly, Kyra moaning at the taste of her cum mixed with your saliva.

***

“Are you okay, my love?”

“Better than ever”

Y/n pecks her forehead.

“Good. I'll be back my love”

Y/n gets out of the bedroom and goes to the bathroom connected to the bedroom and grabs a rag and wets it with warm water and on her way back she goes to Kyra's closet to grab a fresh pair of underwear for her. She makes her way over to Kyra and cleans up her with the rag. She then puts Kyras fresh pair of underwear on and puts her shorts and shirt back on.

“Cozy?

Kyra says nothing in response and just shoves her head into Y/n's neck and places a kiss on her jaw.

“Im assuming thats a yes”

“Goodnight, my love”

“Goodnight Y/n”

And the two fall asleep together.

It is 8am and Steph receives a call from Caitlin, she answers and Caitlin immediately says.

“Steph! I lost Y/n”

“What do you mean lost? How do you lose a 20 year old?”

“Right- so I woke up as one does and I went into Y/n's room because we were going to go to a cafe to have some breakfast and I went into her room and she's not there!”

“One sec let me ask Kyra '' Steph walks up the stairs to Kyra's room and knocks twice, she doesn't get a response and assumes she's asleep so she opens the door and finds a peacefully sleeping Kyra cuddling into a sleeping Y/n. Steph puts the phone back up to her ear and says

“I've found Y/n”

“What! Where is she?”

“Sleeping”

“Sleeping- sleeping where?”

“With Kyra”

“I knew they would get together eventually, those two have been in love since they first met i swear”

“Aww wait they actually look so cut- wait you didn't even know them when they first met”

“I know but I wouldn't doubt it if they have been in love with each other since they first met. Now send a photo to the gc”

Steph quickly snaps a few photos of the two then leaves the room and sends the photo to the matilda group chat minus the kids and ends the call with Caitlin.

The originals

Members- Sammy (Sam Kerr), Em (Emily Van Egmond), Katies gf (Caitlin Foord), Tim Tams  (Tameka Yallop), Mini (Katrina Gorry), Lyds (Lydia Williams), Macca (Mackenzie Arnold), Mother Steph (Steph Catley), Lani (Alanna Kennedy), Polks (Clare Polkinghorn)

*Insert a picture of Y/n and Kyra cuddling*

Mother Steph- Look who finally got together

Mini- That is so cute omg

Sammy- I wish i could say i'm surprised, but im not lol

Macca- Stop- they look like cute little babies

Lani- I dibs being Kyras one of bridesmaids!

Katies gf- Their wedding is going to be so cute

Lyds- Cuties!

Polks- Aww

Tim Tams- I ship!

Macca- LMAO i agree with tim tams i also ship

Sammy- Steph it's time to give them the birds and the bees talk

Mother Steph- How the fuck do you expect me to do that??

Sammy- Idfk

Katies gf- Steph you need to wake them up we have training in like 20 minutes

Mother Steph- How am i supposed to wake them up?

Katies gf- Idk but it's your problem now!

*End of chat*

The little children

Members- Tom Holland's look-alike (Lotte Wubben-Moy), Winnie the Pooh (Laura Wienroither), Pot of Gold (Teyah Goldie), Fridos (Frida Maanum), Pavlova (Victoria Pelova), Annoying little sister (Kyra Cooney-Cross),  Furry (Y/n Y/l/n), Penalties (Lina Hurtig), Geo (Gio Queiroz), Lessi (Alessia Russo)

Pavlova- @Annoying little sister @Furry get your asses to training before Kim and Leah kill you both

Fridos- You guys need to wake the fuck up

Tom holland look alike- Stop swearing

Lessi- KIM IS GOING TO MURDER YOU TO WAKE UP I'M SCARED FOR YOUR LIVES

Tom Holland looks alike- The two of you need to wake up now, Kim is going to make you guys run laps.

Pavlova- DITCH THE FUCKING PUNCTUATION THEY ARE GOING TO DIE UNLESS THEY HAVE A GOOD EXCUSE ON WHY THEY ARENT HERE

Geo- I bet they are finally fucking

Lessi- AT 9AM??? SURELY NOT

*End chat*

“Turn it off oh my fucking god my ears a bleeding” Kyra groaned

“Uhm, Kyra?”

“Hm?”

“We are uhm- a bit like for training” Kyra sat up

“What do you mean?”

Y/n showed her the time.

“We are so dead.”

Caitlin saw Steph walk into training and walks up to her 

“Where the fuck are they?”

“I didn't know what to do so i just left, i ran”

“I don't blame you i don't even know what i would do in that situation”

“STEPH, CAITLIN!””

“Oh- hey Kim”

“Hi”

“Where are your children?”

“Uhm they ar-”

Steph got cut off by an out of breath Kyra running into the training facility and shortly followed by Y/n.

“I'm here!”

“Oh! Look Y/n’s here too, Hi Y/n!”

“Oh! Fancy seeing you here Kyra!” “Let's get changed, shall we?”

“Mhmm, meet you there!”

Kim looked back to Caitlin and Steph as the two of them ran off to the changing rooms.

“They are right here!”

“They are also 30 minutes late, and so are you Steph, why's that?”

“DEAN AND STEPH WERE FUCKING!”

“NO WE WEREN'T!”

“Then why were you late?”

Steph looked defeated and then came up with an idea

“Kyras fish died so she was depressed so Y/n came over for a funeral and that's why we are all late”

“Kyra has a fish?”

“Yes- well she had a fish, the fish is dead now”

“What was the fish's name?”

“Michael Jackson” Caitlin fell to the ground laughing.

“Michael Jackson? Okay then I am sorry for your loss. Now get changed”

Steph ran to the changing rooms.

“I know you to are fucking. Kyra you have a fish named michael jackson but he died this morning so that why you and Y/n were late”

“Wha-”

“I have a fish?”

“No! Just get changed i will tell you later” 

The three of the got changed in record time and went to the field to warm. The three of them separate, Steph going to caitlin, Vic going to Kyra and Alessia going to Y/n

“So, what happened “

“Me and Kyra fucked and now i dont know what to do”

“Oh!”

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso one shot #kyra cooney cross x reader #kyra cooney cross #auswnt #australia #matilda’s #the matildas #woso-things #kyra cooney cross smut

[thedancingcostumeyoungadult]

A Season for Lovers part 4- S.R.

Words: ~6950 she's a beast folks

Parts 1, 2, 3

Warnings: 18+ only, minors dni, fem!Reader, fingering (fem receiving), unprotected piv smut, bitchy Spence, historical inaccuracy lol

~

Your head is spinning, the world around you reduced to the feeling of Spencer. The warmth of his skin that bleeds through his shirt, the rough graze of his stubble, his lips on your skin, he’s everywhere and it’s intoxicating. But you want more, your belly burns with desire and you claw at his shirt, needing him closer even as your bodies press flush together. 

“Spencer.” You rasp when you break apart to breathe, swept away moments later in another kiss. Speaking between feverish kisses, you fight the fuzzy haze threatening your ability to form words. “I want you, Spencer- please- I want more.” He groans, a low, gruff noise that sets your skin on fire as he pulls back a bare centimeter, his lips still dragging across yours as he begins.

“Angel-” 

“Please!” You implore, all traces of decorum gone from your mind.

“I can’t.” His breath fans across your skin as he dips his head to press another searing kiss to your throat. “As desperately as I want- As desperately as I need you-” Your hands clutch his shoulders as his lips drag along your jaw, his grip on you just as desperate as yours on him as you press your hips against his, your breath falling ragged from your lungs as your eyes fall closed. He groans against your skin at the pressure, nearly losing his composure as you move one hand to tangle in his soft curls. 

“I will not lay you down in the dirt, my angel.” Your heart nearly stops in your chest at his words, spoken just by your ear and followed by kisses suddenly turned from scorching to tender. His hand cups the back of your neck with his large, warm palm. “Every atom of my being cries out for you, but I want to give you everything that you deserve and that is not out here, in the dirt.” You suppress a small moan as his hand grazes your hip and it’s your turn topress a kiss to the column of his throat, lingering for a moment as you feel his pulse fluttering under your lips. You want to beg, throw yourself at his feet and plead for him to take you. But you don't. While the idea of having him for the first time right against the tree makes your stomach flip, he wants it done right, and you're happy to give him that. 

“All the sweeter for waiting.” You whisper, tilting back up to smile at him. He smiles tenderly back, his warm hands enveloping your face as he brings you into another kiss. This one is languid and unhurried, carrying the lingering promise of many more to come. 

“It will be, I promise.” One of his hands trails down to press against the small of your back, sending a fresh wave of warmth through your belly as he brings his lips close to your ear. “I promise.”

-

Spencer hates this part of the season, the part where he is expected to be seen at clubs and gatherings where he would be forced to hold a conversation with some of the most vexing people he’d ever met, and he spent his days hunting murderers. He had no patience for their catty remarks and artificial sincerity. The dance of respectability and ruthlessness designed to weed out those considered unworthy. 

Typically he would avoid the clubs altogether, but at the invitation of his future father-in-law, he feels himself obligated to make an appearance for at least an hour. The presence of Abraham Beaumont provided some respite, the calm sincerity of the older man mellowing whatever bullshit raunchy advice the men had to offer. Luckily, that cut the well-wishes at the announcement of his engagement mercifully short, allowing him to retreat to a table in the corner with his older companions. He found conversation with the two men surprisingly easy, spurred along by games of chess that they kept feigning surprise at losing, passing most of the hour comfortably.  

Unfortunately, a presence that he had not anticipated was that of one Alexander Fields, who saunters up a mere twelve minutes before Spencer’s allotted hour was up, sinking down in the one empty chair at the table. His stomach turns at the way Fields looks at him, a thin veneer of pleasantness unable to fully hide the chill in his demeanor. 

“Mr Beaumont, Mr y/l/n, Dr Reid, I hear congratulations are in order.” Spencer forces a smile, clenching his fist under the table as Fields gestures to the just-finished game of chess on the table. “May I?”

“Be my guest.” Spencer all but grits out, watching the other man reset the board. 

“I suppose it’s about time that I settle my tab.” Your father says, moving to stand. Mr Beaumont follows him, shaking his head.

“Have one more drink and we’ll be on our way.” He claps Spencer on the shoulder as he goes, adding on “Come join us when you’ve finished with this, son.” The dig is subtle, but Fields bristles just enough to tell Spencer that he’d caught it. 

“I won’t keep him long.” 

“I’m sure you won’t.” Some of the nerves leave Spencer’s stomach as he allows the persona he wears at work to slide neatly into place. This was just mind games, nothing more, and Spencer had a habit of winning those. 

Fields starts the game with aggression, looking at first to have the upper hand. But he’s clumsy, short-sighted. 

“Miss Y/N is a fine prize, Doctor Reid.” Spencer’s stomach turns again, revolted at the way he speaks about you as if you were not even a living being. “Shame you had to force her father to go back on his word to get her.” Spencer tamps down the part of him that wants to knock his teeth out for even speaking about you, speaking coolly. 

“You can’t fault a father for wanting the best for his daughter.” Bait. One of Spencer’s pieces falls.

“That depends on what you consider to be the best.” Another piece down and a bite at the line. 

“Or what she considers to be the best.” That one stings, Spencer can see it. He takes a rook, and the tide turns. “It’s strange, the way you speak about her, as if she were cattle.” A knight goes. “It makes me wonder what you see when you think of her.” The last pawn. “Actually I know what you see. You see a dowry and a way to secure heirs.” A bishop. “A means to an end. But what you have so spectacularly failed to see is the brilliant, charming, talented woman who outmatches you in every conceivable way, and I pity you for it.” Fields has practically forgotten the game, his jaw clenched so hard Spencer swears he can hear teeth grinding as he speaks. 

“Careful, Doctor Reid, I would hate for any unsuitable rumors to make their way around.” Sitting forward, Spencer fixes his gaze on his opponent. 

“I don’t know who you think I am, Mr Fields, but I am no child, and I think you’ll find I can do far worse than rumors.” He tilts his head forward, his gaze unwavering. “I would imagine, with how deeply you desire the approval of these people, that there are things that you would rather keep in the dark.” Fields quickly schools his face back to neutral. He’s good, Spencer would give him that, but his eyes betray him with the subtle flash of anger and fear. He has him.

Satisfied in his victory, Spencer stands from the table, pausing only briefly as he passes his opponent’s chair.

“Checkmate in two, by the way.” He barely registers the scrape of the chair behind him before a voice interrupts. 

“Careful, Mr Fields, no one cares for a sore loser.” Abraham Beaumont taps the end of his cane on the floor as he returns from the bar. “And we would hate to have to send a young groom to the altar with a blackened eye, wouldn’t we?” With a hardly dignified huff, Mr Fields disappears, allowing the older man to claim his vacant seat. He sets his drink down on the wood, gesturing to Spencer to sit back down.

“One more drink, lad, then we’ll cut you free.”

-

“And the flowers?” He leans forward, all sincerity and big brown eyes as he implores you to fill him in on every last detail of wedding planning. You giggle, leaning slightly away from him on the tiny bench before tilting back in, almost brushing your nose against his. 

“White roses and alstroemeria.” His grin lights up his face.

“Love and devotion.” He steals a kiss from the corner of your mouth. “Fitting.” Sunlight streams through the panes of the sunroom walls, bathing the room in the warm glow of late afternoon. Tucked in a corner, away from prying eyes, you’re as close as you dared get, turned perhaps a bit too far towards each other. Spencer’s hand rests between his knee and yours, absently pinching a fold of your skirt and rubbing it gently, needing to be holding something of you.

“And how’s-” You stop him, leaning away teasingly.

“I am not telling you about the gown.” His face falls into a sweet pout that you know better than to fall for, leaning after you with his pleading amber eyes. 

“Please?” You shake your head, trying not to laugh.

“It’s bad luck.” For propriety’s sake, you don’t kiss the pout from his lips, instead opting to press your fingertips to his chest, pushing him playfully back upright. He doesn’t let your hand fall, catching your wrist lightly and brushing a kiss to the fingertips that had just moved him. You slide your fingers along his cheek, cupping his jaw. “Only one more week, my love.” His hand covers yours, holding you as much as you were holding him.

“So soon and yet a lifetime away.” You take the quiet moment to admire him, the care with which he touches you, not as if you were fragile, but rather as though he was amazed that you were real. The thought brings something else to mind, something that Amelia had heard from her brother and passed along to you.

“I heard about what happened at the club last week.” His eyes widen in surprise and he sits up, keeping your hand in his but lowering it from his face as he clears his throat and shifts somewhat nervously. “About what you said.” 

“I’m sorry if I took it too far.” You shake your head, squeezing his hand where it rests on his knee. 

“No! Not at all I just-” You pause, searching for the words. “You see me, Spencer, as I am, not as a dowry, or a meal ticket, or a broodmare.” His shoulders tighten at the words, but you continue on. “You defend me as a person, not as property. You ask me a question and actually listen for the answer. My interests aren’t just things on a good wife’s checklist to you, and I wanted to thank you for that.” Propriety is forgotten as he gently cradles the back of your neck, resting his forehead against yours and hoping that he can convey all he feels in the simple touch. 

“You are so much more than what they think of you, my angel.” 

-

It’s strange, looking around your room now that it is nearly bare of personal belongings. Books, clothes, trinkets, most of your worldly possessions are neatly packed away, ready to be moved to Washington in a matter of days. Night is falling over the grounds of your family’s house, purple shadows deepening under a nearly moonless sky and you long to steal out to see Spencer, but tonight he wouldn’t be there. He’d gone back to Washington for a few days to put the final few things in order before the wedding. You toy with the worn edge of the book balanced in your lap, not really reading the words on the page, a small smile playing across your face. Spencer had given you this book before he’d left the summer you met, from the small personal library he carries with him practically everywhere. His handwriting dots the margins, little notes and thoughts hastily scrawled over several rereadings. It’s a nice little look into your genius’ brain, seeing what stands out to him, how he thinks.

On impulse, you snag a pencil from your writing desk and settle back into the window seat, flipping back to the beginning of the book. You read the familiar words with new eyes, adding your own ideas and responses between Spencer’s in the margins. 

You write until the oil in your lamp burns low and your eyes sting with exhaustion. Letting the book fall closed, you drag yourself up and deposit the book and pencil on the desk, crawling into your bed with a deep sigh. It’s bittersweet to think how this would be one of the last nights you would ever spend in this bed. Your fingers trail along the delicate embroidery lining your pillowcase, a lump forming in your throat as you contemplate the chapter of your life that is coming to a close. Everything that you’d known thus far, your whole life, soon to be left behind. 

But the next chapter is one that you and Spencer would write together, the idea of which fills you with such excitement that you can’t help but smile, pulling a spare pillow against your chest and tucking it under your chin, curling the rest of your body around it as you settle deeper under the covers. The future can wait until tomorrow. 

Tomorrow begins with a soft rap on your door, barely rousing you in time to sit up before your mother pops her head around the door, entering with a smile as she holds up a small but lovely arrangement of flowers. You know it’s from Spencer as soon as you see it, delicate pink alstroemeria and white bridal rose, the vase adorned with a silk ribbon. 

“He's back?” You can’t disguise the eagerness of your voice as she sets the vase on the table by a window, adjusting a wayward flower before turning to you.

“He delivered them himself.” Your feet are on the floor even before she continues, rushing for your dressing gown. Her next words make you deflate, your shoulders slumping slightly, “He couldn’t stay, only wanted me to give you this.” She offers you a small envelope, sealed with small circle of purple wax, which you quickly snatch up and crack open.

All my love for you, my Angel. 

-

You can’t help the way your hands shake as you smooth a flyaway piece of hair off of your forehead, the rest piled in ringlets atop your head. Small freshwater pearls dot the pure white fabric of your gown, framed by delicate scrolls of silver embroidery that trail down the skirt and train. More pearls adorn your throat and ears, glinting in the light filtering through the light curtains of your room. The final piece is the veil, snowy lace cascading down around your shoulders and pooling on the rug at your feet. Your mother appears in the reflection behind you, offering you a slightly teary smile before taking your hand, turning you to face her. 

“Oh darling girl.” She cradles your face in her hands, kissing your forehead and pulling you into a tight hug. You’d both already cried enough over the past few days, so the embrace was short, just long enough for her to give you a slightly bruising squeeze. “Are you ready?” She asks as she pulls away, and to which you reply with a smile and a nod.

“I’m ready.” 

It’s only a short walk across the street to the church, arm in arm with your father, your mother and Amelia trailing behind to keep your dress and veil out of the dirt. Your heart beats loud in your ears, drowning out all words as you step inside. 

The church aisle stretches in front of you, the dusty red of the carpet sits in contrast to the delicate white of the silk and flowers adorning the pews. Golden light filters in from the windows above, illuminating the otherwise dim space. A modest collection of people are gathered in the pews, Spencer’s team with the Beaumonts and some additional friends on one side, with your family and friends on the other. But in truth your eyes slide right past them, drawn as if by magnets to him. 

Spencer.

Your Spencer, his tousled curls lit up in a golden halo, sleek black suit perfectly tailored, looking at you as if you’d hung the very stars. Almost immediately tears spring to your eyes, streaking down your cheeks and as you draw closer you see his face shining as well, even as he smiles that giddy, boyish smile that makes your heart skip. 

Before you realize it, you’re down the aisle, handing your bouquet to Amelia and receiving a quick, slightly tearful kiss on the forehead from your father before you both turn again to Spencer. 

His hand is warm as yours is laid into it, gentle and comforting as he helps you up the final step to stand beside him. The minister begins, but you hardly hear him, so captivated are you by Spencer as he beams back at you, tearstreaks matching your own stretching down his cheeks. 

There’s confidence in oneself, and that you’re no stranger to, but the feeling in your chest as you look at Spencer, that’s new. It’s past satisfaction, past surety, it’s an absolute certainty, beyond all doubt, that this man, this beautiful, kind, brilliant man that you are marrying, is right. He is right for you now, and for the rest of your life.

“Doctor Reid, do you have the rings?” For the first time since you’d entered the sanctuary, his eyes leave you, glancing quickly down as he produces two gold rings from the breast pocket of his suit. He lays them on the pastor’s bible, careful not to let them slide off. The pastor blesses them as you wait almost patiently, the scant few moments it takes proving too long for your excitement. 

“Repeat after me…” The pastor’s voice fades away, replaced by the beating of your own heart, loud in your ears. By some miracle, neither your hand or your voice shake as you lift the larger of the two rings from the book, repeating the words you’d memorized weeks ago as you take Spencer’s hand again.

“With this ring I thee wed, with this body I thee worship, with all my worldly goods I thee endow.” You take Spencer’s hand, sliding the ring securely into place. He doesn’t let your hand fall, catching it quickly so the contact of your skin never breaks. Your eyes once again lock with his, every emotion you don’t have the words to express swirling in your chest, making you feel light as air. 

“With this ring I thee wed,” He lifts your hand, sliding the delicate gold band into place, “with my body I thee worship, with all my worldly goods I thee endow. Amen.” The people in the pews, whose presence you had all but forgotten, echo the word back. Nothing in the world could take the joy from your heart as you and Spencer turn to the pastor, quickly signing the marriage license already waiting for you. Then he takes your arm in his, pulling you as tight to his side as was acceptable in public, and you both, now as husband and wife, make your way back down the aisle. 

Though the ceremony was simple and rather short, what came after was anything but. You and Spencer emerge from the church to a chorus of cheers, whistles, and other joyful noise from the well-wishers gathered there. Your families trail behind you, joining in the din as they usher the newlyweds back to the Beaumont house. There is a feast laid out, a masterpiece of Lydia Beaumont’s own design, keeping your guests busy for the next few hours. You and Spencer sit beside one another, joining in various conversations happening around you but for the most part for you there is nothing but him, and for him there is nothing but you. 

Finally, it’s time for you and Spencer to go. He’d arranged a room at the grand hotel in town, just one night before you left on your honeymoon. He helps you into the waiting carriage, grinning wildly up at you as you pause, waving one last goodbye to your family, before climbing in after you.

-

You can see Spencer in the mirror, watching you with soft eyes as you root around in your hair for the multitude of pins holding it in place. One after another the pins clatter into the tray, but your hair remains up, much to your frustration.

“May I help?” His quiet voice behind you makes your eyes snap to his. He steps closer as you smile at him in the mirror, letting your hands fall to rest on the vanity with a nod. He returns your smile with one of his own, now standing directly behind you. 

You can’t help but watch him in the mirror, your eyes trained on his beautiful hands as they rise to your hair. A shiver runs down your spine as his fingers brush lightly up the slope of your neck. Gentle but sure, he begins to pluck the pins from your hair, the curls falling loose one by one. The sensation of his hands in your hair is heavenly, and you can’t help but let your eyes fall shut as you lean into the touch. 

Spencer hopes that he’s not shaking outwardly, but his hands feel unsteady as he buries them in your hair. His head spins as the soft locks run between his fingers as he carefully extracts the u-shaped wires from your updo, going slower than necessary just to prolong this intimate moment between himself and his wife. His wife. 

In the mirror he sees your eyes flutter closed, a contented look spreading across your features as he begins on the last section of pins. He almost falters, nearly too enraptured by the look on your face to focus on the task at hand. Your eyebrows relaxed, a small, blissful smile playing at the corners of your mouth as you lean against his hand. An all too familiar fire sparks to life in his stomach and he swallows hard as his brain conjures all the ways he could put that look on your face. 

The last lock falls around your shoulders as he pulls the last pin free, the relief drawing a soft sigh from you. Loathe to stop touching you, Spencer gently cards his fingers through the strands, carefully working out any tangles he finds. When he’s done, he sweeps it all off your neck and over one shoulder, his hand coming to rest on the bare skin at the base of your neck. Before he can overthink it, he ducks his head, pressing a slow, soft kiss to the skin below your ear. You gasp quietly, your eyes flying open to find him in the mirror, his eyes still closed as he kisses you again, moving down the side of your neck. 

“Spencer.” You sigh, letting your head fall back to rest against his shoulder.

“Yes, my angel?” He speaks against your skin, his lips raising goosebumps as he drags them across your skin, getting lost in your softness, the faint smell of lavender that clings to you. Your response isn’t comprised of words, instead you turn your face to his, nosing against his cheek until his lips meet yours. The both of you sigh contentedly as he shifts, kneeling at your side without breaking the kiss. His hand rests gently on your knee as the other slides into its familiar place on the small of your back. In turn you wrap your arms around his shoulders, gently pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. The low groan that escapes him only spurs you on, your fingers sliding up to tangle in his soft curls, the kiss quickly becoming fiery and urgent.

He wraps his arm securely around your waist and lifts you to your feet in one smooth motion, swallowing your small gasp of surprise in another fiery kiss. You’re a tangle of desperate hands as he undoes the buttons of your gown and you the ones on his waistcoat. Breaking from the dizzying kiss, Spencer steadies you with his hands at your waist while he presses his lips to your forehead. The loosened fabric of your wedding gown slips down your shoulders, the silk rustling as you drop your arms and let it slide to pool around your ankles. You can feel Spencer’s breath hitch in his chest when his hand comes to rest on your hip, now only covered by your fine cotton chemise. 

Your hand on his chest makes him straighten, warm amber eyes immediately finding your gaze. The small furrow between his brows eases as you give him a small smile, reaching up to gather your hair back over one shoulder. You let your eyes drop demurely to the floor as you turn, casting him a doe-eyed look at the last second, speaking softly as you do.

“Could you help me?” You don’t miss the way his eyes widen slightly, a smile breaking over his face.

“Of course, angel.” You cast him another smile as you turn fully away from him. A small pause turns into a long one, before finally you hear Spencer speak.

“Um?” He puzzles quietly, and you can’t help but laugh that of all subjects to stump the genius of a man it was women’s undergarments. 

“Have you never seen stays before?” You hear him huff at your teasing.

“Of course I’ve seen them.” He sounds downright grumpy and you crane over your shoulder to smile at him, watching him frown back at you as he mutters under his breath, his hand finding your waist again. “It’s the taking off that’s new.” You feel his hand find the laces and work the knot free as you turn back to face front. “Do I take it all the way out or just loosen it?” 

“Pull the laces all the way out.” As you feel the garment loosen your hands instinctively come up to hold it in place, clutching it to your breast as nervousness swirls up in your chest, making you shift your weight restlessly from foot to foot. Spencer notices as he pulls the final bit of lacing free, his hand lingering on your waist as he steps around to face you. His other hand gently cradles your cheek as he searches your face, his eyes soft.

“My love?” He asks in a whisper. It’s just Spencer, you remind yourself, your nerves calming as you look up at him. Giving him a smile, you relax your hands and the stays slip but don’t fall, prompting Spencer’s hands to reach out, ghosting feather-light over the straps before carefully sliding them off your shoulders one after the other. Your breathing is ragged, your chest heaving as the stays hit the floor with a soft thunk, electricity running in the wake of Spencer’s fingers as he trails them back up your arms. His gaze burns into you with an intensity and desire you’d never seen before, his eyes darkening as they run over your form, still covered by the nearly translucent cotton of your shift. Flickering up to meet yours, his eyes soften, and he reaches for your hand, using both of his to press your palm flat against his chest. You can feel the warmth of his skin through the soft cotton of his shirt and your body once again floods with that strange, insistent ache. 

You crash together like the tide, lips molding together as desperate hands wander into unexplored territory. His muscles flex under your palms as you drag them down his front and ball your fists in his shirt, tugging it out of his waistband and slipping your fingers underneath. He groans into your kiss as your fingers meet the warm skin of his stomach, his hand that had been trailing down your back flying down to grip the flesh of your backside, forcing a gasp of your own from your throat as he drags your hips against his. Your hands slide further up as he presses your bodies together, fingernails digging lightly into the skin. He lets you go for an instant, stripping his shirt off over his head in one motion before his hands return to your waist, pulling you back into the current as they wrap around you. Your hands explore unashamedly, trying to commit to memory the warmth of his skin, the sparse hair littering his chest, every plane and curve of his shoulders, you want to know it all.

Spencer’s hand dips even lower now, strong, slender fingers brushing along the back of your thighs through your shift and sending a jolt straight between your legs. Your whimper makes him break the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as you both gasp for air. One of his large, warm hands cradles your head, tilting your face up and away from his. You let your eyes flutter shut as he presses a tender kiss to your jaw.

“May I see you, Angel?” He speaks in barely a whisper, his lips dragging sparks across your skin as the aching in your belly grows almost unbearable and you gasp out a desperate “yes!”  

His hands are gentle but deliberate as they press against your thighs and slide upward, bringing your shift along with them. Your heart hammers in your chest as his lips meet your throat once more, blazing kisses down from your jaw and over your collarbone. His hands reach your waist and you lift your arms, his thumb brushing along the curve of your breast as he draws the garment up and over your head. The fabric falls to the floor with a soft rustle as his eyes find yours. Standing to his full height, he keeps his eyes on your face as he takes a half step back, his hands finding yours and tangling your fingers together. 

Finally, his eyes flit downwards and his jaw goes slack. You feel goosebumps break out on your skin as his eyes rake over your figure as if it were the last thing he’d see, the intensity of his gaze raising goosebumps across your skin. He looks for what feels like an eternity, surely committing the sight to memory as your skin burns for his touch. You slowly bring his hand to your side, shivering as his warm palm presses to your skin. His breath leaves him in one huff, his hand returning to the small of your back, dragging you forward and crashing your lips together. You both groan into the kiss as finally, at long last, your bare skin presses against his. It's the sweetest relief, like something you hadn't known you were missing being slotted into place. Your bodies fit together neatly, a matching pair finally united. 

His hands wander, exploring your soft curves with something that felt like reverence, light and curious but with an undercurrent of desperation. You scratch your nails lightly down his sides and he lets out a guttural groan against your lips, his hands grabbing hard at your hips, one then falling to knead the flesh of your ass. It's your turn to gasp and whimper as your hips press together and you can feel the hardness in his trousers press against your belly.  His lips leave yours, dragging down your throat and leaving tendrils of fire in their wake.

“Divine.” He follows the word with a scorching kiss. “Heavenly, oh angel-” He cuts himself off with a groan, his face buried in your neck.

His arm wraps securely around your waist and you let out a surprised squeak as he hoists you into his arms. Moments later he's settling you gently on the mattress, now dusting feather light kisses along your collarbone. He follows you as you lay down, his hand finding your waist as he buries his face against your neck, lavishing hot, wet kisses along your throat. He hovers above you, drawing desperate little gasps and whines from your lips as he sucks and bites at the skin of your shoulder, slowly traveling lower as his hand begins to wander up. 

Your back arches as his hand cups your breast, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he brings his mouth down to meet your hardened nipple. The wet heat of his mouth enveloping your sensitive bud draws a high whine from you, to which Spencer responds with a low groan, pressing his face impossibly closer to you and sucking harshly. Your hips buck upwards as you wail, your hands flying to tangle in his messy hair. He lets out another rough groan as your hips brush his, pressing briefly against his straining cock. 

“Spencer, please!” You beg, desperate for something, anything, just more. Reluctantly he lets your breast fall from his mouth, quickly turning and peppering kisses all over the other one, making you giggle and squirm as he works himself out of his trousers. He relents with one last lingering kiss to your sternum as he kicks them off, finally raising his eyes to yours as he settles between your legs. You hold his gaze for a breathless moment before letting your eyes travel down. The sight that greets you sets your belly on fire and you feel your pussy clench in excitement. He’s achingly hard, thick, flushed, and leaking and fuck, you want him so badly. You can’t help but touch his cock, running your fingers lightly up the underside, causing his hands to grip desperately at your hips as he bucks forward a little. 

“Fuck, Angel.” There’s a rasp in his voice that you’ve never heard before, which combined with the uncharacteristic language makes you clench your thighs around him. 

“I need you, Spencer.” Your plea earns you a smile as he leans in to give you a sweet kiss.

“Just a little longer, sweet thing, I have to make sure I don’t hurt you.” As he speaks his hand trails up the outside of your thigh and over your hip, slipping between your legs. The pads of his fingers brushing against your sex makes you gasp, the sensation making your stomach drop. He slides his finger through your folds, drawing another needy sound from your lips. Nosing sweetly against your cheekbone, he whispers to you, low and warm.

“Do you touch yourself, angel?” Your cheeks burn as you nod, biting your lip against a whine as he teases through your slick again. His low chuckle as he presses a kiss to your neck does something strange to you, your thighs tightening around his hand. 

“Show me.” You choke a little at his words.

“What?” He lifts his face from your neck, kissing you softly between quiet pleas.

“Teach me how you like it, angel. Please show me so I can make you feel good. That’s all I want, just wanna make you feel so good.” The undercurrent of desperation in his voice sweeps you away and you find yourself reaching down to cover his large hand with yours, whining as his fingers find that sweet spot that makes your back arch and your toes curl. 

“Like that, Spencer, oh god!” He picks up your rhythm quickly, steady fingers working smoothly over your clit and drawing waves of the sweetest sounds he’d ever heard from your lips. Burning for more, you guide him further down, your breath catching as he follows your direction and slips the tips of two fingers into your warm pussy. 

Spencer is mesmerized, drunk on the sight of your breasts heaving against his chest and the feeling of his fingers sinking deep into you. You clutch at his wrist, pressing the heel of his hand against your bundle of nerves, desperately rutting your sex against him. He curls his fingers, moving with you, losing himself in you.

“Spencer!” Your shuddering cry sends a rush of heat to his crotch and he can’t wait any longer. He pulls his fingers from you, crashing his lips against yours to quell the needy whines of protest you let out. Still kissing you, he guides your arms around his neck as he climbs between your legs. You both let out wanton moans as his cock presses against your wet heat, your legs immediately wrapping around his hips as your arms clutch tightly to his shoulders. 

“Ready, angel?” A light, airy feeling floods your chest as he lines himself up and you nod desperately.

“Please, please, Spencer, I’m ready, please give it to me!” He pulls back, needing to see your face as finally, finally, he presses into you. Your reaction is immediate, eyebrows drawing together over heavy-lidded eyes, your mouth falling open in a sweet little o-shape as your back arches, drawing him even deeper until he’s fully buried inside of you.

“Do you feel that?” He whispers, nosing at your jaw as you pant for breath, the feeling of his thick cock holding you open forcing the air from your lungs as you cling to his shoulders. “You were made just for me, my angel, just like I was made just for you. We fit perfectly together.” You whine desperately as he rolls his hips ever so slowly, rocking into you. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thigh as he holds your leg steady over his hip. The next thrust sinks somehow deeper, causing you to let out a strangled moan as your nails dig into his shoulder. Your head rocks back against the pillows as he starts to go faster, each thrust forcing little gasps and mewls from you. His hand finds yours, tangling your fingers together and pressing a kiss to your knuckles before pinning it to the pillow beside your head. 

“All yours.” You manage, the words coming slowly to your pleasure-clouded brain. “All yours, Spencer.” His cock hits impossibly deeper as he stops holding back entirely, fucking into you like a man possessed. It’s all you can do to cling to reality as his thick cock drags heavy against your walls, pushing you ever closer to the edge.

“Kiss me.” He demands and you obey, pulling him into a surprisingly sweet kiss as your thighs begin to shake, your pussy fluttering and clenching around him. You break the kiss but stay as close as possible, your lips dragging over his as you feel yourself unravel, the coil of heat in your belly snapping and sending your whole body trembling as you cum with a broken cry. 

Spencer lets out a deep, rough groan as he follows you over. Each throb and twitch of his cock sends sparks through your core as he buries himself as deep as he can in your dripping pussy, your fluttering walls clenching as he pumps you full of hot, sticky spend. 

You don’t realize how tightly you’d been clinging to him until your arms give out, collapsing back against the pillows with a shaky sigh. Spencer goes limp on top of you as well, burying his face between your breasts as you both fight to regain your breath and your senses. Hazy warmth floods your body as you lay there, boneless and content, with the comforting weight of your husband pressing you into the mattress. Euphoria bubbles in your chest and you let yourself laugh, a giddy, breathless sound that makes Spencer raise his head, one eyebrow raised quizzically. Your shaky hand cards gently through his hair before your fingertips trail softly over his cheekbones.

“You kept your promise, Doctor Reid.” A grin breaks over his face as he raises himself to hover over you, your body jumping slightly as his hips grind against yours, his cock still buried in you. He kisses you sweetly, one hand brushing away the hair stuck to your forehead.

“I am a man of my word, Mrs. Reid.” He stays in you for a moment, the two of you sharing several sweet, lazy kisses before he slips out of you, sitting back on his heels with one hand braced lightly on your knee. You both let out a quiet groan as he does, but yours is quickly replaced by a soft inhalation as you feel his seed drip out of you. Spencer watches, transfixed, as your spent pussy throbs lightly, another round of cum leaking from you as it does. He gives your knee a squeeze, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh, then a few more up your stomach and chest until he reaches your lips. You sigh contentedly into the kiss, your hands once again finding his warm skin as he lays himself next to you. He guides you to lay your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapping around you and tucking you safely against his side. Your body still buzzes faintly, a warm glow encompassing the two of you as the sweetest sense of belonging settles in your body. This is the world set to rights, this little quiet space with your husband at your side, nothing of the world can reach you here. And you get to be there for the rest of your life.

~

Oml thank you all so much for bearing with me I know it's been literally months since I updated this but finally this chapter is done!! What did you all think?? I'd love to hear your thoughts and please remember to like and reblog!!

~taglist~

@nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @f-me-reid @spencer-reid-wonderland @dungeons-are-too-cold

A season for Lovers taglist

@livelaughlia @r5court @lifeisacrisis @globbsdr55

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #a season for lovers #jeanie writes #spencer reid smut #Spencer Reid x reader smut #spencer reid fanfic

[trentcrimminallybeautiful]

gert's masterlist of 2023 ted lasso fics! which is. all my ted lasso fics lol

there are so many here buckle up

crack/primarily humor fics:

semaphore - rated: G - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted

Four bracelets and thirteen mugs later, Colin might have finally gotten the hint. Because it was directly pointed out by a crowd of himbos, but you know, still! We got there! Right?! Right?!

birds of a feather - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Trent & Colin (Gen)

Colin notices Trent's mug, alright. (Or: Trent's increasingly less subtle attempts at broadcasting that he is a Safe Person and Also Queer do reach Colin, but Colin gets the wrong message.) (It could be worse. He could have thought Trent was flirting.)

exercising restraint - rated: E - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted; ft Diamond Dogs

Following a fun and informative encounter with his favorite ex-journalist, Ted has a rather uncomfortable meeting with the Diamond Dogs. Featuring: Trent Crimm and the be-catted bag, Leslie Higgins knowing a lot about BDSM, Roy Kent being the world's most unwilling participant in this conversation, and Beard being Beard.

☆ Ted Lasso Kisses Trent Crimm On The Mouth - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted; Richmond Ensemble

In the locker room, Coach Lasso kisses their resident emotional support biographer, casual-as-you-please, and then leaves like nothing happened. Chaos ensues and the entirety of the club somehow gets involved. Trent wishes for the sweet release of death.

a preacher, a bikini, and a kiss or two - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted; Diamond Dogs, ft Will

The Diamond Dogs discuss first kisses. This leads to… a series of events sure does happen. And did happen.

☆ Rupert Mannion Is Batman (He Isn't) - rated: M - chapters: 13/13 - Trent/Ted; Richmond Ensemble

A series of bizarre, loosely related events occur, all kicked off by Trent absently mentioning that he may or may not have once hooked up with Rupert Mannion.

☆ painting the town richmond blue - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted; Trent's ex-wife

Ted Lasso unexpectedly runs into a very drunk Trent Crimm (the Independent), along with his equally drunk ex-wife. They're having a GREAT time. Ted is… pulled along for the ride.

Trent and the Vampire! - rated: M - chapters: 1/1 - Trent & Colin; Trent/Ted

Trent has a truly stupid amount of hickeys to hide thanks to SOMEONE. (Ted is unrepentant and he WILL do it again.)

The Portal Incident™ - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted; Press Room

It's a lovely day in the Richmond press room, and you are a horrible portal.

best seat in the office - rated: E - chapters: 6/6 + an additional snippet - Trent/Ted; Roy and Beard - note: some chapters lean more Smut, Angst, etc

Trent has many problems (chronically low self-esteem, deeply hopeless crush on co-worker, being helplessly attracted to said co-worker) and the bizarre lack of chairs ain't one. He can just sit on his desk—he's sat in stranger places. That is, until Ted somewhat jokingly offers his lap as a replacement. Trent immediately falls off the desk. For additional snippet: In which Ted just asked.

the two ring circus - rated: M - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted; Diamond Dogs

[sent] – Lara, do you remember being lectured on the dangers of peer pressure? lara<3 – Aw has someone offered you a cigarette :) [sent] – a large swathe of richmond staff is trying to make me get nipple piercings :( lara<3 – trent what the fuck does that mean

snippets:

The Thumbs Up Saga - [part one] [part two] - Trent & OCs; ft Trent/Ted

of throuples and genders - Ted/Trent/Rebecca; ft Roy/Keeley/Jamie

Ted Kisses Trent In Front Of A Business Of Journalists For Probably Just Mischief Reasons - Trent/Ted

Trent's into how much of a bastard Ted is unfortunately - Pre Trent/Ted

Similar to that one: Trent's into Ted cursing (specifically in how much of a bastard he is about it) unfortunately - Pre Trent/Ted

☆ A weird alternate meeting/pre-canon meet-cute - [main] [additional snippet] - Trent/Ted; Beard [POV Outsider for second one]

Trent embarrasses himself in front of Michelle and it's cute - Ted/Trent; Michelle

☆ Ridiculous FMK Games - Diamond Dogs; ft Trent/Ted (could be interpreted as some combination of Ted/Trent/Roy/Beard if you want); also ft Colin

oops rebecca made them kiss - Trent/Ted; Rebecca [season one!]

Trent Crimm Is Fuckable! Everyone Agrees - Trent/Ted; Ensemble

Check time travel AUs section for those lol

smut fics (Rated E)

the best ones; primarily smut

���☆ off the record - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted

Intrepid reporter Trent Crimm earns his scoop.

☆☆ trick & treat - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted

In which a relatively harmless prank causes everyone at the Richmond Halloween party to be somewhat transformed into their Halloween costume. The charm is supposed to be fun. And it is! Really, it is! It's just that it really is effected by your mindset and by what you like about the costume, and Trent is--well, Trent's leaving the party early. He swears he wasn't thinking about this when he chose his costume. It's just. He saw Ted's costume and a few fantasies may have gotten away from him a little. Which would have been harmless, had it not been for all this. OR: Some deeply, deeply silly and contrived Halloween smut. Read the tags for more details.

☆ snippet: embarrassing venom au - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted

Uh oh sisters it's the deeply embarrassing CRACK VENOM AU NO ONE ASKED FOR!! Everyone clap and cheer Trent has an alien inside him if ya know what i m--

snippet: "desperation" + sub trent - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted

diversity win! your journalist is now a sub [For the prompt "Desperation"]

a wonderful wreck - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted

Ted, while tipsy as hell, realizes he's bisexual, has a drunken hookup with Trent Crimm, wakes up, and then is… weirdly chill about all of this, considering.

sweeter than heaven (hotter than hell) - chapters: 1/4 - Trent/Ted

Trent has a hard time letting go--at least, letting go completely. He learns a little at a time. Or: 3 times Trent is on top, one way or another, and 1 time he gets utterly railed.

other works:

snippet: coach sandwich - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted/Beard - CRACK

Beard joins Ted and Trent for a threesome in the funniest, stupidest way possible.

☆ an odd sort of comfort - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted - Kinda angsty/pensive but sweet

There's a fantasy Trent has that he tries not to touch. He fails.

oh, in the strangest dreams - chapters: 1/1 + additional Roy POV - Trent/Ted - CRACK

Ted and Trent are both feeling weird about all the extremely vivid sex dreams they keep having about each other, completely unaware of the fact they are, in fact, the same dreams. Shenanigans ensue.

some specific AUs/groups

time travel AU snippets:

s3 Roy & s1 Trent - Serious; Angst - Trent & Roy

s3 Roy & s3 Trent; ft Press Room - Crack/Humor - Trent & Roy

s3 counterparts confuse s1 counterparts - Ensemble (Trent, Ted, Beard, Roy, Rebecca); ft Trent/Ted

☆☆ superhero AU - Trent/Ted; ft Beard:

Main fic

Ted POV

just specifically ships other than Trent/Ted:

snippet: ROY IS NOT TRENT'S SUGAR DADDY SHUT THE FUCK UP - rated: E - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Roy

"I can't believe Roy Kent is your sugar daddy," his ex-wife says, and he flings an aptly named throw pillow at her. Which she dodges with a cackle.

see aforementioned snippet: of throuples and genders - Ted/Trent/Rebecca (ft Jamie/Roy/Keeley)

basically crack wherein these two groups make jokes about gender among other things

also see aforementioned snippet: coach sandwich - Ted/Trent/Beard

Beard joins Ted and Trent for a threesome in the funniest, stupidest way possible.

☆ "caught in the middle" - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Ted/Trent/Beard

Uh oh, there's only one bed! Ft. Trent desperately needing a hug.

☆ "helpless in a game of kisses" - rated: M - chapters: 1/1 - Ted/Trent/Beard

Ted and Beard argue over who is a better kisser, as homies do. Trent is somehow made the referee. Surely this won't be weird at all. Or: How to break Trent Crimm's heart with seven simple kisses. And fix it with a few more.

primarily angst/more serious fics (generally happy endings)

☆☆ matters of the heart - rated: E - chapters: 2/2 (will be a series) - Trent & Everyone; Trent/Ted - somewhat angsty, character study

5 times someone had sex with Trent Crimm and it made him feel worse, and 1 time it actually felt good.

☆ lost sight of (who you are)- rated: T - chapters: 1/2 - will be Trent/Ted in ch 2 - somewhat angsty, character study. My first TL fic, written before s3

Trent Crimm, and becoming, and unbecoming, and becoming again. Or: Eventually, Trent writes a book. No, not that one.

☆ ink sunset - rated: T - chapters: 3/4 - Trent/Ted

Letters, unsent and sent, between Trent Crimm and Ted Lasso over the years.

☆☆ I WANTED TO BE LOVED SO DESPERATELY / THAT MY FINGERS SHOOK WITH IT - rated: T - chapters: 2/2 - Trent/Ted

Trent, and being sick, and being sick alone.

☆ make a mess of you - rated: T - chapters: 2/2 - Trent/Ted

Ted is drunk, and sad, and he really likes Trent Crimm. This cannot end well.

betrayal's sting / absolution's balm - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Ted & Everyone (Gen)

Five times Ted forgives someone… and one time he doesn't.

something to get off my chest - rated: T - chapters: 3/3 - Ted & Trent & Roy (Gen)

Three perspectives on the scene in the locker room.

to have hope - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Trent & Colin; Will (Gen)

Will overhears a conversation between Trent and Colin.

other fics

☆ moonlit - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted

Trent wakes up snuggled close with one Ted Lasso. And immediately overthinks it.

two (not) pieces of shit - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Trent & Colin (Gen)

In many ways, Trent's sort of become a mentor to Colin. But Colin has some things to teach Trent, too.

☆☆ being right - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Pre Trent/Ted - episode tag

Trent's opinion of Ted Lasso goes from utterly dismal, to slowly wearing down into something generally negative but with an edge of reluctantly impressed, to, abruptly, turning on a dime, something glowing.

off the handle - rated: T - chapters: 3/3 - Trent/Ted

Ted lets himself be angry, kisses the man of his dreams, accidentally makes said man of his dreams cry, acquires a boyfriend, and smashes some shit with Trent Crimm in a parking lot at 3 am. Not in that order. No one ask where Coach Beard got those mugs. (The man of his dreams, the acquired boyfriend, and Trent Crimm all happen to be the same person. This is a surprise to no one but Ted and Trent Crimm himself.)

creme, dough, and other jars - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - pre Trent/Ted - primarily humor

Ted receives an unexpected voice message from one Trent Crimm. At 3 am. About a jar of marshmallow crème.

linger - rated: G - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted; Rebecca

Rebecca comes to see why Ted hasn't gotten off the team bus yet.

some small comfort - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted

Trent finds Ted having a panic attack in the coaches' office.

☆ wayward thoughts - rated: G - chapters: 1/1 - Trent & Ted (Gen, but could be pre Trent/Ted)

Ted reads Trent's article, and lets his thoughts wander.

the dregs at the bottom of the glass - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Pre Trent/Ted (could be interpreted as Gen)

Trent tells Ted a story. Or: Trent, throughout his life, has realized over and over again that his parents actually Weren't Great, Actually. This is one of those times.

snippets:

truth liquor/confession - Trent & Press Room; mentioned Trent/Ted

Trent crushing his own recorder - Trent & Colin/Richmond Players (Gen)

Touch-starved Jamie - Gen; mention of past Keeley/Jamie - one of my few (only??) non Trent fics lol

Trent & Jamie talk about shitty dads - Gen

Michelle briefly meets Trent - Michelle & Trent, Michelle & Ted, ft eventual Trent/Ted

the fox & the wolf (Trent telling a fairy tale) - Trent & Roy & Colin; ft implied unrequited Trent/Ted

☆ the prince and the wyrm - (Trent telling a fairy tale but in a wildly different way to the last one) - Trent/Ted

☆ brief selkie snippet - implied Trent/Ted

snippet from a rom-com AU - Trent/Ted; Press Room

three voicemails/POV outsider - Trent/Ted; Lloyd the journo

high noon over richmond - Pre Trent/Ted; ft Beard

☆☆ second impressions (Ted's POV on Trent very early on in canon) - Gen, pre Trent/Ted)

☆☆ biting is a love language - Trent & Everyone; Trent/Ted

not the most romantic first "i love you" but very funny - Trent/Ted

mixed signals - Trent/Ted

They're both in need of a hug - Trent/Ted

Yet another silly Bantr reveal sort of fic - Trent/Ted (currently all text, should be expanded on)

some sneak peaks at wips i'm working on now (UNPOSTED and UNFINISHED, hence no links):

A Deeply Unfortunate Pre-Canon Roy/Trent Hookup

a very bizarre and somewhat smutty tedependent au involving a temple and some surprisingly sad shenanigans

Uh Oh It's The Ted/Trent/Roy/Beard Fic (Extremely E-Rated)

a terrifying mermaid-adjacent tedependent au

a cinderella-esque tedependent fic

a knight and wizard tedependent au

roytrent: romcommunism gone wrong au

Mistletoe Kiss (yeah this one's late)

Rebecca and Keeley Play Matchmaker For Trent and Ted. Oops

a crack addition to that superhero au

Most Of The Diamond Dogs Take Being Supportive Friends To A New Extreme

roytrent ensues. keeley gets to watch. everyone is pleased

one day i'll finish the fic about the other reporters drunkenly daring trent to seduce ted. one day

and MORE.

#trent crimm #ted lasso #tedependent #tedtrent #ted x trent #roytrent #tredbeard #my writing

[phoebejaysims]

Hello there Phobe!

I’m a big fan of your mods, I know that you don’t take on requests, so take this as a mod suggestion.

Why don’t you make a “Dine Out” mod that’s like the game pack from 4, sure we have Ani’s Business as Unusual Bistro mod but that mod unfortunately lacks a lot of detail and is very surface level when compared to the game pack.

Now of course mods don’t have the same manpower as official Sims content as well as the mod predating the game pack, so how about you make your own spin on it kinda like how you did with your Clubs mod?

Hey there!!

Thank you! It's funny you suggest this because I was thinking about this the other day. For some reason, I feel like I've seen other modder talk about making an updated version of the Business as Usual set but I can't be sure.

I really love Ani's spin on the mod so it would be interesting to see the mod made in 'Dine Out' style, or even like the sims 2 version. Now, of course, we also have the sims 4 animations that can be stolen for it lol.

All that to say, I definitely will strongly consider this suggestion although I need some time to think about if I have the energy to take on another large-ish project right now :)

#thanks for the ask!

[shieldofiron]

All My Stickers (Me when I lie)

Stickers are my number one Fandom Merch weakness, and some discord friends mentioned that I should show some of them in action and where to get them. LONG POST INCOMING, in no particular order, and this isn't even all of them.

Let's start with JessRadIllustration aka @dreaminginpencil on Etsy. Unfortunately the Harringrove one was Limited Edition but Jess makes the prettiest Steve. I just love to look at him. (I have no info about the demogorgon sticker lol he was a free gift.)

I should not have gone to @avalonlights Etsy shop because they have new stickers so I may be getting something new... oops.

And you can also see Poison Ivy Steve there next to Billy's licence plate which leads me to @adelacreations Big Cartel shop. Look at these gorgeous Stickers. Add is running a sale right now hugely recommend their prints as well. This one below is in my bullet journal, so I can see it daily.

Next we go to my current journal:

These are from Illusbyliz on Etsy as well, it looks like they're taking a break. But these are sooooo adorable especially the heckfire club.

This is my latest sticker purchase, possibly the only Harringrove and Munver sticker in existence from @friendoftheknife on Inprnt. They also have the most soft and lovely Jargyle prints. The Inprnt stickers are large opaque and glossy for anyone wondering, and they aren't kiss cut to the image so be prepared for that.

These are from Mr. Hall on Society 6 and they're SO GORGEOUS!! Sorry they're on a blue background it's just the way the cookie crumbled but I love that with the transparent stickers.

I had to get some Pocket Babies from @wrecked-fuse also on Inprnt. Since I got this Fox added pocket Jason, Chrissy and Eddie so again, I'm going to have to get some more.

These are from @lazybakerart on Redbubble. I highly recommend the glossy or transparent stickers from redbubble not the matte. The matte is sometimes cut incorrectly, but the transparent and glossy are awesome. Look how opaque crying Billy looks! You need a good sticker to show off Sara's colors so pick wisely.

These are both from redbubble too, from @zayacv. The Mini Billy and Steve set is sooo much fun, I'd have to hunt through this notebook to find all of them.

The sailor Billy is from @kelpie-earnest on Redbubble (He's so saucy, look at him).

I may have to reorder this @gabbia design from Redbubble on a tshirt. They look so bitchin'.

The Billy's tattoo is no longer available from the redbubble artist I got mine from, but this Demoleven is SO AWESOME, from NotCoolCo on Etsy.

I know what you're thinking. Is this all my harringrove and stranger things stickers? NO. Will I be getting more? YES. Let me know if you want to see a part 2.

#ShieldofIron #Sticker Collection #Harringrove #Munver #Royalfire #Hellcheer #Stranger Things #billy hargrove #look at these talented artists fr!

[leonsliga]

How to get football autographs: a crash course

Fair warning: this will be a long post.

We’ve all heard it by now: the best way to get footballer autographs is to attend open trainings or wait outside their hotels and stadiums on match days. But what if you live far away or can’t afford to fly to training or games? Not to worry! Whether you’re a collector, a fan, or a little bit of both like me, quite a few clubs are still willing to send out autograph cards, as long as you send them a stamped addressed envelope.

You’ll find helpful how-to videos on how to do just that, along with links to some country stamp websites, below. These videos actually inspired this post:

Postal service links:

United Kingdom

https://shop.royalmail.com/postage-and-packaging/first-and-second-class-stamps - You can’t print UK stamps, but you can buy them off the Royal Mail website (see above link) or off Amazon in most cases

Germany

https://shop.deutschepost.de/shop/internetmarke/selectPostageIM.jsp?invalidAccess=true#porto-international (you’ll want to buy the printable compact letter—Kompaktbrief in German—stamps for 1,70€)

Spain

https://www.correos.es/es/en/companies/send/stamps - Unfortunately, I’m completely useless at navigating the Spanish postal service (AKA Correos), but here’s the link regardless. Maybe you’ll have better luck than me 😅

France

You can buy printable stamps using the link above

Postage Questions:

What materials will I need to send a request?

You’ll need a letter containing your autograph request, 2 envelopes (one bigger and one smaller), a stamp/stamps (depending on size and weight) from your country and the stamp/stamps of the destination country.

I’ve bought my stamps. What size envelopes should I get?

I recommend getting c4 envelopes, as they’ll be big enough to hold your autograph request letter. These will be the envelopes you’ll mail out. If you go with a c4 envelope, I’d recommend purchasing c5 envelopes as your smaller envelope. These will be the envelopes the clubs return to you with the autograph cards inside, and you’ll slide them into your c4 envelope when you’re ready to mail them.

Be sure to include the club’s mailing address and your country’s stamp on the large envelope and your address + their country’s stamp on the smaller one

Where can I find a club’s mailing address?

You can usually find a club’s mailing address, along with their attitude towards fanmail, on the “contact us” tab on their webpage. If you can’t find it there, search the name of the club on fanmail.biz; they have the mailing address of just about every football club you can imagine.

What should I put in my autograph request letter?

The main thing here is to include which footballers’ autographs you want (if you don’t have a preference, you don’t have to do this; you can always say you’d be happy to add whatever player cards they’re willing to send to your collection, or something like that lol). Apart from that, what you include is entirely up to you! I wouldn’t recommend sending a super long letter, but if you want to add a personal touch, you can always mention one of your favorite memories of that club and their achievements. It doesn’t hurt to throw in a thank you at the end either :) one last note: you can address your letter to the club or the player whose autograph you’re requesting; it’s entirely up to you!

Do I have to send a stamped addressed envelope to every club?

Not necessarily. If you want to save money on stamps and envelopes, try emailing the clubs first. If you’re lucky, they’ll send the autograph cards directly to you and pay for the postage :)

Now onto the most important question: does it work? The answer is that it depends on the club you’re sending the request to and sometimes even the league they play in. I’ll break it down by league below, detailing either my own experiences writing to the club (if I’ve written to the club and heard back, I’ll state it outright) or that of YouTubers who have reached out to them. If you don’t see your club here, assume they either don’t reply to fanmail, or I haven’t heard of any success stories yet.

Premier League

Some Prem clubs still send out autographs, but not all. Here’s the ones that do:

Manchester United - pre-covid I’m pretty sure they sent out only hand-signed autographs upon request. Unfortunately, they seem to have cut back a bit on this in recent years; nowadays they tend to send a mix of hand-signed and pre-printed, facsimile signatures (this was the case for me when I wrote to them a few months ago and a few YouTubers that wrote to them as well). Still, pretty amazing given the size of the club that they’re willing to do this. As a United fan, I can’t help but feel a little proud :)

Liverpool - they definitely take the “you’ll never walk alone” motto literally, because they also still answer autograph requests with squad photos and signatures, at least as of 2021. To add a personal touch, they usually include a certificate with your name on it. Even though they’re United’s biggest rivals, I can’t help but respect them for this.

Arsenal - another big club that’s not too big for their fans; to my knowledge, they still send out hand-signed autographs. In doing research for this post, I even stumbled upon a video of someone who got an Arsenal match program, 2 squad photos, and autographs on the back of one of them. Talk about a big haul!

Tottenham - usually send pre-signed, photocopied autograph cards

Chelsea - sent out pre-signed, facsimile autograph prints as of 2021

Manchester City - sends out facsimile signatures only, according to several YouTubers (I’ve never contacted the club personally, so I’m not sure if this is still the case). If you do reach out to them, let me know what you hear back!

Crystal Palace - hit-or-miss. They tend to reply with pre-signed squad photos. They usually include a “south london and proud” bracelet from what I understand though, which is a fun perk!

West Ham - you might hear back from them, you might not (I didn’t when I tried a few months ago, but I know several other people did). If they do reply, you’ll likely receive hand-signed photos.

Aston Villa - sent out mostly pre-signed cards as of 2021

Everton - sent out predominantly hand-signed cards as of 2020

Leicester - send out a mix of photocopied and hand-signed cards, as of 2020 - they generally include player cards from the entire squad

Bournemouth - sent out pre-printed cards as of 2021

Newcastle - still sent out hand-signed photographs as of 2020

Bundesliga

If you want hand-signed autographs, look no further than the Bundesliga. In my experience, they send out the most hand-signed cards of any football league, and it’s not even close. In fact, you’d be hard pressed to find a club that doesn’t send out hand-signed cards. I’m assuming it’s the same story for the 2. Bundesliga (I know Schalke sends out hand-signed cards at the very least).

Bayern Munich - generally, they prefer you purchase cards on their website. Unfortunately, you have to be a member to buy signed cards on there; otherwise, you have to settle for pre-signed prints. That said, I’m pretty sure that if you purchase the player cards on the website and send a few back to the club to be signed, they will return them with official autographs. I sent in a request for Manuel Neuer’s autograph earlier this year and enclosed his player card, and they sent it back hand-signed. I included my membership number in my request just in case, but I know they’ve sent hand-signed autographs to non-members in the past (i.e. the YouTuber mentioned towards the beginning of this post). If you do reach out to Bayern, let me know how it goes. My fingers are crossed for you regardless 🤞

Borussia Dortmund - probably the most reliable of the Bundesliga clubs when it comes to autograph requests. They now limit you to 4 footballers per request, so you’ll have to be selective. That said, they usually reply quickly and send out hand-signed autographs every time. I have yet to hear of anyone who hasn’t received something back when they sent an autograph request to BVB.

Bayer Leverkusen - when I requested autographs from them, they sent me some back. I requested 3 players’ autographs, along with Xabi Alonso’s, and received all 4 cards back hand-signed. Quite a few YouTubers have had success hearing from them as well. Even though they’re having a fantastic season, they clearly haven’t neglected their fanmail, which is cool to see :)

Eintracht Frankfurt - sends out hand-signed autograph cards, even as of this season (they sent hand-signed cards when I reached out to them two months ago). If they’re your club, you’re in luck.

VfB Stuttgart - hand-signed cards

RB Leipzig - hand-signed cards

FC Union Berlin - hand-signed cards (I haven’t heard back from them yet, but it’s only been a week and a half at this point)

SC Freiburg - hand-signed cards

Borussia Mönchengladbach - hand-signed cards (I just heard back from them a week ago, and I think I got a mix of hand-signed cards and pre-signed prints)

FC Augsburg - hand-signed cards

SV Werder Bremen - hand-signed cards

VfL Wolfsburg - hand-signed cards

VfL Bochum - hand-signed cards, sometimes of the entire team.

TSG Hoffenheim - hand-signed cards, often of the entire team

FC Köln - hand-signed cards

FSV Mainz - hand-signed cards, often of majority of the squad

La Liga

If you’re a fan of a Spanish club, you might be a lot less lucky, sadly. Only one club still sends out hand-signed autographs to my knowledge, and only one other club sends anything back in response to fanmail.

Real Madrid - occasionally sends out posters with pre-printed, facsimile signatures.

Sevilla - this is the club to ask for hand-signed autographs. That said, you probably won’t get more than one or two. I’d recommend being specific about which player(s)’ autographs you want in order to avoid being disappointed.

Ligue 1

Maybe the French league is more your speed. It’s a mixed bag here; while few answer fanmail, the ones that do are more often than not the most generous of any football clubs on this list.

PSG - the Parisians do still respond to autograph requests, but pretty much exclusively send out facsimile signatures.

Olympique de Marseille - have sent out pre-signed cards of their entire team in the past, along with a poster

FC Metz - sent out a mix of hand-signed autographs and pre-signed prints as of 2021

LOSC Lille - sent out autograph cards as of 2021

OGC Nice - sent out autograph cards as of 2021

RC Strasbourg - sends out autographed postcards, and if you’re lucky, they might include a squad photo and some stickers along with it :)

AS Saint-Étienne - send out hand-signed cards, although I’ve also seen them send squad photos addressed to the recipient, along with 2 issues of their club’s magazine

Eredivisie

PSV Eindhoven - sometimes send out autograph cards with facsimile signatures (pre-prints)

Swiss Super League

FC Basel - sent out hand-signed cards as of 2021

BSC Young Boys - sent out hand-signed cards as of 2021

Austrian Football Bundesliga

SK Rapid Wien - sent out hand-signed cards as of 2021

LASK - hand-signed cards (as of 2021)

Scottish Premiership

Glasgow Rangers - occasionally sends pre-signed prints (at least, as of 2021)

Ekstraklasa

All clubs listed below have sent out hand-signed autograph cards in the past:

Śląsk Wrocław

Legia Warszawa

Lech Poznań

A-League

Western Sydney Wanderers - signed squad photo

MLS

Whether you’ve got a particular club in mind or you’re just a fan of one of the big stars (i.e. Messi), you’re probably in for disappointment. Autograph collecting isn’t super big in the U.S., and MLS treats autograph requests accordingly.

Seattle Sounders - one of the only two clubs in MLS that actually sends a response to autograph requests - one lucky collector was even able to get a hat signed by the entire squad! (see here)

NYCFC - sends out hand-signed autograph cards occasionally, usually only one or two

*side note: unfortunately, it seems like most people have only reached out to European clubs, (with the exception of the A-League and MLS), so I can’t speak to whether clubs on other continents fulfill autograph requests. If you reach out to any clubs in leagues not mentioned here, let me know and I’ll update the list :)

Lingering questions:

How long does it take to hear back from clubs?

In my experience as someone living in the UK, I’ve heard back from every club I reached out to within 2-3 weeks (closer to the 2 week mark in most cases). It depends on how far away you live from the club though. I heard back from Manchester United within a week of mailing my request, but they were the exception, not the rule.

Tldr: expect to hear back within a month (maybe a month and a half in extreme cases)

Do clubs answer autograph requests during the off-season?

In my experience, no. I tried this a few years back with no success.

Can I send a shirt to be signed by a player?

I wouldn’t recommend it, as you may not get it back. If you do, the club will probably just return it to you unsigned. You’re better off just requesting an autograph card imo.

Do national teams send autograph cards?

Some do! Last I’ve heard, the German national team still answers requests with authentic signatures and the Croatian national team has sent out signed cards previously as well. The Czech Republic sends out unsigned squad cards. Last but not least, the Dutch national team has sent out fan posters in the past.

Apart from David MC’s autograph series, here’s some of the other videos that helped form this list:

#Youtube #if you do reach out to any clubs (on this list or off it) let me know how it goes :) #I plan on updating this list based on what people hear #I wish you the best of luck and would love to hear your success stories 😁 #football #premier league #bundesliga #la liga #ligue 1 #eredivisie #swiss super league #austrian bundesliga #scottish premiership #ekstraklasa #a league #mls

[muzzleroars]

What would Gabe and V1's reputation be among the machines? I think that they, by and large have no idea who Gabe is soley because Gabe was too good at his job that no machine survived to tell the tale (or to get the enemy entry at the terminal) and they never put two and two together when they do see him. V1 would be similar if not for Cyber Grind, most machines hate it because it ruined their streaks. Machines hate the gamer.

honestly a good question....like you said, it's unlikely the machines would know too much about either of them considering how deadly they are, save for v1's record on the cybergrind (whether or not they would recognize it in person is another story too). they don't have much time to think about it when in battle either, but i'm sure some of them quickly clock the fact that TWO top-tier threats seem to be helping each other...which hardly seems fair lol their respective unique natures immediately alarm any of their opponents, considering they're unlike any other machine or angel, and it's quickly obvious once the engagement begins that they're magnitudes above any other threats in hell.

so if they could gain a reputation (likely from one of their fan clubs - machines may overhear something from gabriel's virtues OR the little streetcleaners that follow v1 at a distance might catch glimpses of gabriel), it's likely that the machines would actively begin to avoid them and attempt retreat if they do run into them (tho it's unlikely hell would allow it). those with more limited ai like the drones probably wouldn't change in behavior, but i think otherwise the machines coming into contact with them grow increasingly distressed. v1 alone with hordes of enemies assailing it is feasible to destroy, though terribly difficult, whereas gabriel is nearly impossible for lesser machines to best considering his track record prior to v1 - and if they know this, their risk assessment would absolutely tell them there's no blood to be had in this fight. they have formed a perfect pair, a pair that would see v1 benefit from massive blood gains and essentially guard it from all possible failure. it's highly efficient, it has optimized its strategy, it has entirely outplayed them in hell as it has in the cybergrind up to that point. so. it's logical. if the angel is willing, who wouldn't?

i don't think the machines would particularly think deeper on it either - what they are isn't entirely important, although if they did understand it...they would essentially consider this v1's code growing wild. it's happened to all of them really, the swordsmachines running away with modifications and the mindflayers meticulously crafting and protecting their plastic bodies. v1's ai is drastically more advanced than any of those around it, so in a way, i doubt they would be too surprised it's gained the capability of complex emotional attachments...UNFORTUNATELY it was, naturally, with the strongest entity it could find in all of hell. that alone would tell them all they need to know about how powerful gabriel is likely to be really - if v1 loves him, it could only be because the way he fought sparked something deep inside a mind concerned only with war (they don't speculate on gabriel's reasoning or how he came to love a machine even as he continues to destroy the rest - things made by god seem to be entirely irrational in their choices).

#truly i do think many of the machines would be capable of love #but for me i see it as being much more machine to machine connections #and they wouldn't entirely get v1 loving something organic (ethereal?)...they don't make sense! #though even if it's an 'error' it's still the best choice it could have made as things get increasingly inhospitable #SO they give it credit for that #cake answers #v1 #gabriel #ask queue: 26 #<- keeping track of this now so everyone knows!!! we're a little behind lol

[chazzadotcom]

matty healy x female reader

DO YOU HAVE A CARD?

inspired by @spunkpunx

a/n: IM FINALLY BACK! i’m so sorry it’s taken me so long, im writing something for myself to try and get out of my writing slump lols, lowercase intended.

cw: explicit drug use, drug dealing, smoking

you’d been mattys dealer for a few years now, and every time you saw his number flash up on your screen, you knew you’d be in for an eventful night. It always started like a late night booty call “u up? xx” which you always found funny considering you were a plug, you were basically nocturnal at this point, but as matty being matty, had to act like he cared, you knew he didn’t care, but the facade was always nice.

You’d then get texted a random address, usually some club in london, and a vague description of where matty was, and then you’d grab your bag and you’d leave, you weren’t sure if you’d ever do this for another client, most of them always had a scheduled time and place, but never matty, he was always different.

you’d just stepped foot into the club and was looking around for the curly headed man you were acquainted with, but first, you needed to get a drink. if you were going to spend any amount of time with this man, you needed at least a drink.

you went up to the bar getting a double vodka and lemonade, you were starting slow, because if you knew matty, which unfortunately you did, it was going to be a long night, you felt a presence over your shoulder, and a ring clad hand grabbing your drink, you looked up at matty who winked at you with a stupid smirk spread across his face as he grabbed your hand and dragged you over to a large group of people.

“everyone!” people immediately looked over at him, it was fascinating how he could easily command a room, everyone’s eyes were on him in seconds he held the power, and you could see the way his eyes lit up like the power was gasoline igniting the fire in his eyes. “this is y/n, y/n this is all my friends.” you found it amusing that every time you saw matty he felt the need to introduce you to everyone, even though by now you pretty much knew everyone in his circle of friends.

matty was your friend but dear god did you want him to hurry up and get the deal over with, then you could let loose and not just be his dealer but someone who he was partying with, which was a lot more fun when the business was over.

after probably about 10 minutes, matty leaned over to you and whispered in your ear to go out to the balcony, this was what you’d been waiting for, you grabbed your bag, and walked outside, matty following behind you. Once you’d made it outside you leant against the railing and mattys arm brushed against your back as he stood next to you.

“so, what is it you need this time?” “you” you sighed “apart from your stupid sexual innuendos” matty laughed “a little bit of everything if you’ve got it babe” he was always one for nicknames.

out of your bag you pulled out a mixture of things, some weed, some pills, and a lot of coke, you knew it was mattys favourite. “That’ll be £350” you never told him you have him mates rates, well at this point it wasn’t mates rates, it was just mattys rates, as he got more of a discount than anyone else, not that he knew about that.

he gave you the money and you gave him the bags, he tucked most of them into his jacket pocket, apart from the cocaine. he looked at you, his eyes glistening in the moonlight, as he raised his eyebrow at you, as if asking a question, you smirked at him and he grabbed your hand once again, this time leading you to a bathroom. once you were both inside he locked the door before tipping some of the coke onto the counter, and then rummaging through his pockets before turning to you, “do you have a card?” you sighed before pulling out your purse and giving him a card from in there, he split it into two lines before you took two notes from your purse and gave one to him, you both rolled them up before looking at each other, with a nod of mattys head you both leaned down and snorted the lines, before tilting your heads back and sighing in content.

you knew it would take a while before it would kick in, so you exited the toilet and went to the bar and got a round of shots for everyone before going back over to matty and the group. 10 minutes later and you were both buzzing, you’d taken some pills as well, to elongate your high, which was probably a bad idea, but in that moment it felt right.

you and matty had started opposite ends of the sofa, but as the night went on, and you both got progressively more high you inches closer and closer, until somehow you were both tangled up in each other laughing about how the ceiling is wavy.

you’d always found matty attractive, you’d be stupid to say you didn’t, but tonight, maybe it was the mixture of drugs in your system or the way his hand was going higher and higher up your thigh, your thoughts shifted. he was staring into your eyes, like they held the key to the world, sometimes you thought matty was the world, everyone loved him, he was perfect. but that had to be the drugs talking. right?

matty tapped your thigh before removing his hand, and grabbing a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. you don’t know what inclined yourself to follow him, but you did.

you walked outside, the cold air hitting your skin, but the alcohol creating a warm coat like effect over you. you walked over to matty and plucked the cigarette out of his hand, his head whipped towards you, before a soft smile spread across his face. “hi angel” you felt your cheeks heat up, as a blush settled over your cheeks. “hey babe” you didn’t say anything else, you didn’t feel like you needed to, you both stepped closer to each other, his breath fanning over your face, you looked into his eyes, and leaned it. it felt like a movie scene, it was all so cliche, but it was all so right.

#matty #healy #matty healy #matty healy x reader #the 1975 #x reader #x female reader #matty healy x female reader #the 1975 x reader

[charlotte-of-wales]

is it not for a royal but I’d be a footballer in this scenario

THIS. not a royal and my character's brother is a footballer lol and as his sister she obviously wants the best for him but unfortunately idk anything about football other than the vibe and what they suppose to do to score lol. so if you were in my position where will you send him to?

sorry when I get started on sports I just keep on rambling so this turned out longer than expected

since I don't know how much this impact your storyline, if you want the brother to play in a large club and be fairly known, if you want him to play in a large city etc let me try to summarize it:

so in the Prem you have the Big Six (Manchester United, Liverpool, Arsenal, Chelsea, Manchester City and Tottenham) so if you want him to play for a major club those are your best options. To break it down even further, Arsenal, Chelsea and Tottenham are all London teams.

When it comes to management and performance, Chelsea is in a horrendous patch right now. They were recently bought by an American and the team went to shit. They are currently 11th in the table. Man City are the current European and World champions and they're winning everything at the moment. Arsenal, Liverpool and Man City are currently on a title fight. Man United is doing okay but they are very far from their glory days. Tottenham is......there. Trophyless as usual but 5th in the league.

If you don't want a Big Six team, some options are Aston Villa (Birmingham), West Ham (London), and Newcastle.

lowkey......I recommend Arsenal. I hope my Chelsea mutuals don't stab me but they're doing alright.

#but I love hearing about yalls urstyle so if this wasn't helpful and you wanna give me more context shoot me #answered #sports

[beesmygod]

I've been reading webcomics daily since at least 2003 & I'm torn on how I feel about webtoons and other comics aggregators. On the one hand, the fact that they're so bad for artists, their websites are shit, & their apps are full of garbage ads/promos is frustrating as hell. On the other hand, the alternative for a lot of amateur artists seems to be twitter or insta and that's even worse as a reader, since it's impossible to actually read archives. Fuckin' hate web 2.0 bullshit some days

i still dont understand why everyone is completely adverse to the most obvious and least damaging option in every single capacity: buying your own website and directing people to it. build a following on social media websites, as is their intended purpose, and make your money via patreon/wordpress plug-ins that allow you to lock extra content behind a paywall.

they only conceivable and easily disputed downsides of this set up are:

it costs money. but to buy a domain name and website is pitifully cheap these days. shared hosting can be as little as 2.50 a month and domain names are like 10 dollars a year. put aside 10 bucks a month to cover all your expenses lol. if you can't manage that you have way bigger problems you should deal with first.

there's a drastic dip in audience. which, if you're playing for the numbers you need to get offline and re-calibrate your entire soul. but if you want a bigger audience for the pragmatic reasons, such as more people=bigger potential profit, then i think you are attempting to make comics literally the single most brain destroying way possible.

what i mean is this: taking webtoons as the example, the advantage of being on webtoons is, presumably, because there is an audience there actively seeking out comics to read. the audience is large, but the audience is also almost entirely children, preteens and teens, demographics that are not known for having money to spend. instead, you have to make money via advertisements loading when the child audience loads a page. this means the more pages you have the more ad revenue you (theoretically) get. HOWEVER, webtoons also has insane panel MINIMUMS for their creator programs, so if you want to be in the special big boys club you have to do 35-50 panel minimums per update.

imo, the purpose of the panel minimums is so that webtoons has an absurd audience retention time to point at for their advertisers. and to be clear i mean webtoons THE COMPANY not the comic format "webtoon", which are designed to be read on a phone. there is nothing objectionable about the format. thats not my beef!! my beef is with how the company line webtoon is so transparently stupidly evil and people keep lining up to get fucked by them.

even putting aside the damage that cranking out 1200000 panels would do to your body, mind, and spirit, this sincerely makes for some of the worst storytelling i've ever seen. the primary audience is dumb because they are children, but the people who have seen movies, read books, other comics, etc can easily see how artificially inflated and empty each "chapter" (? im old i dont know the terminology lol) is.

ive seen webtoons that tried to make the jump to book format with embarrassing results. ive seen webtoons who, because they have no control over their page sizes, have to resort to turning a splash page on it's side which unfortunately always looks horrendous lol. did you know webtoons artists have to chop up their own panels in that incredibly stupid way so that you can't share them with your friends themselves? webtoons makes them do that. people actually do that.

all this and 40k, a massive amount of audience interaction that you would somehow manage to gain despite annoying your audience with video ads, only gets you a pathetic 100 dollars a month lol.

so people are working themselves to the bone for an audience that has undeveloped brains and haven't fully understood the magnitude of what art creation entails for pennies. organ grinder monkeys have a better life. there is no fucking reason to do this to yourselves.

get your own space and direct your audience to your social media for updates. tell them you are leaving webtoons because it is not financially viable. set up a means to be paid directly by your audience and stop. just stop hitting yourself

STOP IT JUST STOP IT AAAH

#webtoons #destroy biting and tearing

[neyxmessi]

Umm what was your first reaction when Leo joined PSG? How you felt when ney left Barca back then?

Btw i just love ur blog so much<3😩. After my hectic day, i feel so relaxed when I see neymessi photos and videos, their small interactions that u post everyday. I wonder how u manage to find such things. Lots of love 💕

Hey anon! I have to be honest… I was very late to joining the fandom. I never was into soccer/football as a kid! It was like the one sport my dad never really liked, and I could not kick a ball for my life so I had no interest in it. Of course I knew of Messi, Neymar, and Ronaldo though. I even distinctly remember at lunch some of the boys at my school debating on whether Messi or Neymar was better. Yes! Not Messi or Ronaldo. Messi or Neymar. So I literally thought they were rivals as a kid. 😭

I remember one day watching a stream where someone was debating whether Messi or Ronaldo was better, and I decided to decide for myself (I had always assumed Messi was the better player over the years but never really looked into him because I had no interest in soccer/football). I clicked on a YouTube compilation video that compared their skills, and literally Leo made me fall in love with the sport. Sure Ronaldo was good at scoring, but Leo had it all in my eyes. His dribbling was absolutely insane, and for about a week after that I was obsessed with him. At this time he was playing for PSG (which I was confused about because I had never heard of PSG before and knew for a fact he had played for Barcelona). Regardless, I decided I wanted to watch some games to see him play. Only problem was that they didn’t (and still don’t) stream Ligue 1 on regular cable television (which I thought they did bc I didn’t understand the different leagues in soccer and every other American sport is always on cable to watch). So then my obsession kinda fell off from there because I had no idea how to watch him play (now I do lol).

Then the WC comes around, and I swear I was talking to one of my friends about what my ideal “guy” would look like, and Neymar pops up on my fyp. And oh my goodness. He looked so good. And like I knew it was Neymar but also didn’t know it was Neymar? Like I feel like maybe I had remembered the version of him from like 2015 but at the time I couldn't even remember what I had thought he looked like, cause in this particular video he looked absolutely gorgeous LMFAO.

Anyways, after liking that one edit, 10,000 more edits of him pop up on my fyp and now I’m like obsessed with him. And then…. I see a neymessi edit pop up on my fyp. And I literally was like “Messi?? Literally my favorite player ever? Played with Neymar? My new celebrity crush?” And I essentially fell into the rabbit hole of them. So shout out to whoever made that Tik tok edit of them!! This account wouldn’t be possible without them lol!!

So I do my little deep dive, and I just figure that at some point they left the club and then managed to play in the same club again. But then when I found out Neymar left Barca first... for PSG. I was so mad I'm sorry LMAOOOO. I didn't really understand at first what would've prompted him to leave, and ofc the first stories I saw were that he left because he wanted to get out of Messi's shadow (or for the money). So my initial reaction was feeling a bit blindsided, simply because it had seemed like he was gonna stay with the club forever.

Anyways the whole situation bothered me for like a few days (not to a large extent, it just nagged in the back of my mind), but then I found out about the whole Messi photo situation and the reason why he left (or at least why I think he did) made more sense to me. I mean I still do think about the "what if he never left" part, but that's a little too taxing on my brain so I'm just trying to appreciate what I have now LOLLLLLL.

Anyways... that's my story! I am not an OG neymessi girlie unfortunately, but I am glad to be able to revive their old moments for other new people who are joining the fandom!!

So glad you appreciate my blog anon <3. Words like this mean the absolute world to me :)

#anon asks!!

[villanelledeservedbetter]

hey gyns so just some suggestions for music for female trauma bc all we seem to have is mainstream misogynistic shit by abusers about male pain like lil peep, mgk, Eminem, bmth, ptv, of mice and men, rex orange county etc etc

I used to love listening to these artists but so much of them are just oppressors bein oppressive

MOTHICA - rock/pop punk music about addiction, csa, female trauma and her cover of can you feel my heart is so much more haunting than. buzzkill (about outing her groomer and sexual abuser), casualty (about surviving trauma and deciding to break from intergenerational trauma), fun house (about body dysmorphia), vices (about the emptiness and trying to fill the silence when you've been traumatised)

Tori Amos, cornflake girl being about FGM (and fatm made an amazing cover too)

FLORENCE AND THE MACHINE - 100 years, what the water gave me, rabbit heart, what kind of man, hurricane drunk. she sings so deeply about female trauma and addiction and mental health issues that come alongside it.

Marina (specifically electra heart because when I was 13 god that shit hit hard). every song of course about the character she has to portray to be a 'good' woman. but many songs also about being with your oppressor who doesn't love you, just the idea of you. lies, buy the stars, fear and loathing, lonely hearts club, the state of dreaming, power and control, teen idle, starring role, are so specifically about female trauma and wanting to appease your oppressor when they give you nothing back. I would be surprised if anyone on radblr hadn't listened to electra heart lol

Hole - aptly named feminist band ft Courtney love (her albums too). the name is just about how women are reduced to holes. she speaks about the trauma of being an autistic woman, fatherly trauma, sexual trauma, surrogacy. nobody's daughter, over the edge, the entire album of live through this but specifically I think that I would die, asking for it, Jennifer's body, miss world, doll parts, she walks on me.

bikini kill of course

Alice glass if you were into crystal castles. pls dont support crystal castle just pirate their shit. she came forward about the grooming and horrific fucking abuse she suffered at the hands of her groomer. all the lyrics in crystal castles are a subtle cry for help. pls support her independent music!

please add more if you can!!!! i need more female artists.

unfortunately I love lana del rey especially when I was 13 but :( bad messages. my ex best friend who had very severe cptsd from csa and a very shitty abusive misogynistic family took on ldr messages and sexualised herself as a young girl to be appealing to older men and i just dont recommend listening to ldr as what she stands for is so dangerous to young girls with her normalisation and fetishisation of abusive relationships and large age gaps including ddlg.

#radblr music

[manie-sans-delire-x]

Yeah what’s the story with him? How did you meet? Do you want more etc ?

Off Bumble lol. We met up for the first time at a club and I met his friends (which was actually pretty risky considering it was a group of male strangers, but luckily all was well and they are good guys), and the next time we hung out my party friends were in town so he got to meet them too. He was willing to explore an abandoned crackhouse with me which I appreciate haha and I have another large abandoned building that I have in mind for cool photography, and he said hes down to go so hopefully we'll do that soon!! Unfortunately we both work late and our days off dont match so its hard to see him during the daytime. I dont want him to only come over late at night and be a fuckbuddy though. We havent had sex yet (come very close to it though) and Im hoping he'll be patient with me.

I still dont feel any emotions towards him unfortunately, but I do like him and I want to feel emotions towards him. So yes I guess I do want more.

#asks

[emometalhead]

Hawaiian vacation cruise recap!

Photos with descriptive captions under the cut!

Over the course of the week, we visited Honolulu, Maui, Hilo, Kona, and Kauai! Here's some highlights!

First things first, before I get into the photos I have a few things to acknowledge. The cruise was wonderful! There was such a large variety of food that I was able to have a good, proper meal 3 times a day for a week. Between having food issues, being picky, and being a vegetarian that is a hard task. I was impressed! (There was only one meal that I struggled with, but even then I was able to make things work.)

Also, all of the staff on board were amazing! Everyone was so friendly, and definitely made the experience what it was. There were so many game events, clubbing events, and sport tournaments that I never felt bored. There was so much to do, and the entertainment staff really made me look forward to it. This trip, I decided to talk to people a lot. I tend to get anxious around strangers, but figured I'd give it a go since I'd be stuck on a ship with people for a week and then never see them again.

I made two friends about my age, and exchanged social media with them. One was super nice and outgoing! She got me to sing karaoke, and pulled me onto a dance floor. Those are not things I would've done on my own, and she was so fun to be around! The other I met at karaoke, because she sang a Taylor song. We bonded over Taylor, and the fact that she immediately brought up a song theory that I believe. Unfortunately both of them live on the east coast, but I'm happy to have met them!!

I also talked to quite a few members of the entertainment staff! One of them is from about 2 hours from where I live!! She was super nice, bubbly, and fun to hang out with. She also pulled me on stage for karaoke (twice!) lol. We exchanged social media as well, and she even offered to give me her "friends and family" discount to come visit her, because she'll be on the ship the rest of the year. We're going to meet up when she's eventually back in NorCal! In addition to her, I had long conversations with a few other entertainment staff members. They were really nice! I learned a lot about people's lives beyond the ship, and appreciated being able to conversate a lot.

Last but not least for my before the photos vacation recap, I befriended the singer of the ship's house band! My family saw the band each time they performed. We were really impressed with them, and the singer has a unique and captivating voice. I happened to pass the singer during lunch on one of the days. I stopped to talk to him for a moment. He was super nice, and we had a very full conversation in such a short period of time. The band performed that night, and when he entered the club, he saw me and waved. He even gave me a shout out during the show, was able to remember details of stuff I said to him, and dedicated a song to me!! I had no clue that was going to happen, and it was absolutely a trip highlight. We talked again the day after, because he saw me on the deck and started talking to me. This dude saw me, and walked all the way down the deck to have a conversation 10 minutes before he went on stage. That was so nice! We exchanged Instagrams, and I definitely plan to keep up with any music he posts.

All right, onto the photos!!

I played SO MUCH ping pong. From ages 4-15, I had a ping pong table at home. I grew up playing the game, but really haven't had opportunities to play since. My brother and I were so excited to see the tables on the ship. We played daily. There were 3 tournaments, and my family participated in all of them. It was so much fun! I taught the ship's DJ how to play lol. He was very chill, and fun to talk to. This is a very blurry (my mom can't take a good picture for the life of her) action shot of me playing against the DJ. My brother and I played for hours. We need to buy another table lol.

This is me in the ship's bar lounge! I obviously didn't drink, but I did spend quite a bit of time in the bar areas and club on ship! They had live music in the bar lounge. It was pleasant, but a little boring. One notable thing about going on a cruise is there's a lot of old people. This room definitely catered to them. It was a nice place to sit and regroup while planning our day though. You can really tell by the photo, but the entire lounge was various shades of pink! So pretty!! I also just liked this outfit lol.

This vacation was actually my parents' anniversary trip! We're a close family, and enjoy traveling together, so my brother and I were invited to come along. That being said, my parents did get a couple hours of alone time! They booked a fancy dinner for themselves. While they were gone, my brother and I got ourselves dinner and played ping pong lol. However, we also decided to go on a walk. The deck was deserted, with many people at events or at dinner, so we had a lovely view of the sunset! The colors were so cool that I had to take a picture! We learned after that my parents also took a walk after dinner, and my dad also took a photo of the sunset on the other side of the ship lol!

Ocean and mountain view in Kauai!! This was the view from the ship at lunch!! Stunning landscape! We weren't out for too long in Kauai. The day we arrived, we went out shopping! We mostly bought soaps and perfumes. Though the beach is not pictured here, the day we departed from the island, my dad and I went to the beach! It was fun and chaotic! The beach had a little channel of water. We walked through it to get to the main part of the beach when we arrived. At that point, the water was at our ankles. I didn't plan to go into the water, so I was wearing a long dress and not a swimsuit. By time we returned to that path to leave, the water was up to my waist! We didn't realize it had gotten so deep until we were too committed to look back! I ended up having to pull my dress up to my stomach, which completely exposed my underwear 😭. Luckily it was plain black, so it lowkey looked like swim suit bottoms. We had to climb up rocks as well, and a very nice man helped pull us up. It was a fun little outing despite things not going to plan!

This is the water in Kona!! Kona was incredible! First of all, I got shaved ice there. It was the best shaved ice I've ever had!! It was passion fruit and pineapple flavored with boba, mochi, and fresh strawberries on top! Underneath, it had vanilla icecream!!!!! I had dessert daily on the ship, but none compared to this shaved ice. THE dessert of the trip! Kona was beautiful! We walked around a lot, swam in the very blue and clear ocean, and shopped. Kona was interesting, because there was no port! The ship anchored, and we had to take a shuttle boat to get to the island. That was a really cool experience as well. Kona was the only place we fully swam in the ocean at. It was amazing. The water was warm, we could see clearly below us to avoid walking on rocks, and the view was breathtaking. The water was so clear we could see fish swimming with us!!!!! I've never had a beach experience like that before.

The third photo is the statue of Kamehameha. One thing I appreciated during the trip was being able to learn some Hawaiian history! The statue was quite the site! Fun fact about the day in Hilo! We took an unofficial tour. We had a taxi driver take us to the statue, and he offered to take us on a tour around Hilo as well as to wait for us while we walked through the rainforest to see waterfalls. He was very nice, and gave us tons of information. It was great!

This photo, along with the next two, is from Hilo on the big island!! My family might argue with me, but I think Hilo was the most beautiful place we visited.

We went to a beach unlike any I've seen before! It was like a park, with luscious trees and green grass. It was also the first volcanic rock beach I've ever seen! In California, we only have white sand beaches, so this was totally new and unforgettable.

This is the water at that beach! It was SO CLEAR! Look at those rocks!! There were also lots of fish and crabs. We foolishly did not bring swimsuits to this beach, but I was able to dip my hand into the water. It felt so nice!! We were very upset at our lack of planning, because the sight was stunning. We were able to walk around and fully take in the view, luckily!

This photo is from my last full day in Hawaii. We left the port of Kauai at 2 pm, so we were on the boat the entire day after the morning. My dad and I went wandering around the ship, and this was the view from one of the hallways! The water was the bluest I've ever seen!!

Lastly, this was our view during dinner the final night! We sat outside at the aft for most meals, and each time the ship left the port. These mountains were so cool. The photo doesn't do them justice. I really enjoyed watching the ship leave each time. This was definitely the best view we had, as each other time it was already dark out when we left. Seeing the mountains so clearly was the perfect way to end the sightseeing.

#I said I was going to do this hours ago and then got distracted by needing food and catching up on irl duties #welp here's the full vacation post!! if anyone wants more pics I can post more or give you my Instagram #this was the best vacation ever and I'm so grateful to have been able to go #cruises rule lol #thank you to anyone that made it through the entire post lol #ashley overshares