takesone

☁︎⋅ credits -—...

Thankfully, luck carries you through once again. There had been enough time between recognizing you and remembering all your sweet praises, how fast your pictures got him to cum. He was yearning for you all over again, at this point.

He seethes, lids low, and is already messy as his gaze dips to the rest of your body perched up on that stool.

His whole head sinks and rises again as he checks you out. He's biting his own fingers, slouched, over the counter and getting closer.

"Missed you..."

"Wellll, this must be fate?" You suggest with a shrug.

He's quiet, hesitant on the committal concept of 'fate,' and changes the subject, never shy of getting pathetic.

"Why'd you ghost me? Think I can't handle you?"

Ewww, he mentioned it. Minus one point for him. You squirm.

"Oh, I know you can't," You whisper, dismissive.

You pinch your empty water cup, cross your arms, and lean back to watch horse racing on one of the televisions above the bar. It works. He moans on and on about how much he missed you-- which is insanity, because he was the last to get blocked, only 8 hours ago.

You could bet a handsome amount of money that he would have already texted you 70 times.

You're careful not to give him too much attention, or to even look in his direction, because he's painfully obvious and it's making his friends territorial.

Soon the bartender is adding a maraschino cherry to your special gradient pink drink.

Like you, everybody is sure they can outdrink shitty music.

The twins are still loud as they debate genres two chairs down.

"Is Pitbull country?"

"Dunno, but I think-ahh-- Kesha is!"

"I don't mind this one so much, actually..."

Of course, all it does is make you more vocal about how odd this bar theme is- and how appreciative you are that you aren't the only one not digging the vibe in here.

It opens Aran up, since he was technically responsible for picking the place tonight.

He's pretty fun to talk to, and he loves watching you sip from the straw, so you get along easy and fast.

"You didn't play today!" You recall and set your drink down close to the edge of the counter, "I was looking forward to seeing you!"

He shifts, hesitant, but unable to lie quickly, and leans down to admit softer, "Sprained my ankle."

"Ahh!" That pretty cocktail is strong and going straight to your head, "That sucksss!! I'm sorry to hear that!"

Maybe that's why he didn't sound keen on switching bars. It was a painful walk. Your hand flies to Aran's thick arm-- thumb rubbing reassuringly into his soft skin.

He's hot, and getting hotter, at your very tame touch.

"T'sokay," He laughs his nerves away. Ohh, he's really handsome, and your eyes are locked into his, despite his stiffness, "Gotta get the rest in. Come back next season, y'know."

You nearly knock your drink over, totally distracted in his deep brown eyes, as you put your elbow on the table and smush your cheek against your fist. He's three seconds early and slides it back with a subtle nod to the bartender to get you another water.

"Mm...Dunno, I'd be so sad if I had to take a whole semester off!"

"Oh, y-eah, I'm bummed! Don't get me wrong,"

A deep, metal groan from across the room is noticeable even over the music. There's a very loud round of cheers that drown him out and you both snap your heads in the same direction.

He can't help but be grateful for the interruption, because your hand slides off, and he can stop flexing so hard.

You're just as starry-eyed looking at the other half of the bar.

"Is that a mechanic bull?!"

He flinches at your squeal. It blends into the rest of the chanting crowd but does attract a few select pairs of eyes. They trail to where you're pointing at once, like a group of cats.

"Let's go!!" You giggle. You're clearly beyond excited and grab one of their arms at random.

The only thing on your cloudy mind is that there is finally something cool and fun.

The arm happens to belong to Kita, who had given up his seat for a stranger a while ago. He barely swipes his cap before you lug him through the dense sea of bodies.

When you reach a tough standstill, buried within a winding line of many-- Kita's lips barely brush your ear.

He asks, "You sure you're okay to ride that thing?"

You hold his arm close, against your chest, like a baby or small animal, and stand on your tiptoes to see over the deep wooden containment area, clad with mats on the inside.

As you turn to him again, you squeeze, and give a serious nod.

"Oh-kay," He breathes, stricken at how cute you are. Maybe if he can push his way to be next to the operator when you get on, he'll be in a good position to make sure you're safe.

In his shuddery embarrassment, he has to turn his chin away, and sees the rest of the group lagging behind and led by a particularly aggressive Atsumu Miya.

"'Tsumu!!" You wave, hopping, and smiling wide.

His stern, twisted expression transforms instantly to one of adoration.

"(Y/n)! Heyy!"

His brother cringes at the switch up and gives him a shove, but receives nothing, not even a look, in return.

You were rightfully excited about Atsumu joining you because he is extremely encouraging about your desire to get on the ride. And even though he cut in front of about nine people, nobody has the balls to question him or his equally big friends. You feel protected and safe to be yourself.

He tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his other palm fast to find your shoulder, "Thrill-seeker, huh? I like that, I like that..."

His touch alone is tingly and warm. Your heart skips when he smiles and those canines pop.

He's not boyfriend material, but he's too addictive to dismiss. You let his hand roam your hair while you turn to peek over the wood again.

The girl on the bull is flung off so fast that she's thrown onto the mats, but rolls and slams her back onto the wooden containment ring with a thud!

A collective, 'Oooohhhh...' Fills the room.

"Oh my god..."

"Poor thing..."

Your face drops. You shrink and give an empty, fearful stare through gaps of heads and shoulders at the operator.

A lot of girls start to shy away and give up their spots in line. Your group makes progress, but your heart is no longer in it.

The next person steps into the gate and all of a sudden, you're next, but fidgeting and pale.

"I...I dunno, anymore..."

"Aww- tch-- come onnn," Atsumu's big hand is swallowing up your waist, his expensive cologne flooding your nostrils and your common sense. Yeah, you feel dumb now, but you're still sure that backing out is the only way not to get a concussion.

The girl stumbles out, crying, and accompanied by some angry friends.

Osamu puts his hands on his thighs to get eye-level with you. You focus on him, instead. He feigns a pretty damn-good convincing concern.

"Wouldja feel better if it weren't so rough?"

Atsumu is straight up baring his teeth but it's beyond your field of vision. His thumb hooks into your waistband and his long fingers are edging your pockets.

"Mhm..." You're bad at keeping his eye contact in particular. His eyes are the scariest, somehow even worse than the blond. You instead hyperfixate on the veins in his biceps, twitching, when he straightens out.

"Y'hear that?" He tilts his head at Atsumu and Aran, "Sounds like we need to have a talk with the operator."

Unlike some more developed establishments meant for attractions, the operator booth was actually not a booth. It was open, and right at the gate, so he also had to be the one to let you in, take the money, and control the bull.

It allows Atsumu, Aran, and Osamu to surround him, and effectively block his short, frightened whimper from anyone else's ears.

Atsumu slaps a heavy, strong, and painful hand onto his bony shoulder and leans down.

He slips him a fat, banded roll of cash. It's at least five times what the entrance fee is, depending on the bills.

"Hurt her and I will fucking break you."

The worker is barely able to grab the money- and he doesn't have the voice to even say Yessir. He just trembles and nods, allowing Kita to open the gate for a very excited girl.

"Keep'r happy!" Osamu sings, banging a 'good-natured' palm three times onto the side of the control panel.

Aran takes a seat right next to him with a heavy sigh. It's the operator's chair, but he does not argue, and pretends not to glance at those crossed arms and stern expression.

Kita helps you up onto the ride, stronger, than you realized. His family works here, and he's a big part of the team, so he's a welcome sight to many when he exits the matted ring.

He kind of brushes them all off though, to watch you.

The thing lifts and jerks upward, a startling move-- but it's just getting set into a usable mode. The operator swears it after some quick-to-turn heads.

It's nowhere near as bad as it was before.

The bull swirls around, and bobs up and down, and tilts you forward and backward, but nothing feels too dangerous or as gut-wrenching as what the previous riders had gone through.

"Mh-hahaHa!!" You laugh, warm and fuzzy and having the time of your life.

It dips your chest forward again and shakes, and even you can understand that one was for the bros. You kinda like it, and it feels good, like finding a nice jacuzzi jet or sitting on top of a washer.

The room is deafening with whooping, hollering, and applauding, and you've earned some strong whistles from the gateside.

What was extra clear to everyone was that the operator had toned it way down.

Kita spares a glance back at him, and gives a shocked chuckle at his ghostly, doomed expression. He might be the only one in the room not having fun.

Atsumu leans over the wood, all reckless abandon with his encouragement, "Y-EAHH!! Fuck yeah baby!! WOOO!!!"

Osamu is too busy generating the world's loudest whistles, fat fingers in his mouth and all, to get aggravated with Atsumu's over-the-top screaming.

And, such is the way of men in groups, their enthusiasm begs a bigger reaction from all.

The ride still isn't easy, but you do manage to beat the timer and can step off of your own accord and not of a freak accident, in the end.

You wobble away, weak, dizzy, and smiley, feeling like a whole celebrity.

"Mmmhmha-haahaa thank-youuu," Is all you can manage to say, drunk on their big and loud enthusiasm. Especially the twins.

After helping you off the steps, Atsumu scoops you up in a handsy hug and even sneaks a kiss to your temple. He does it on purpose, in front of as many average bar patrons and friends alike: A strong, wordless, Fuck Off.

The lightning fast realization that you might have to cut him off sobers you up a tad.

You really don't want a guy like Atsumu to get led on, because you know that he doesn't know that you're not coming home with him. Regardless of how drunk and hot and kissy he gets in here.

He pulls away, seething, and sore in the front. His gaze is narrowed and equal in its generosity.

"Mm, you did so good!" Osamu was quick behind him, a reassuring and flirty pinch to your hip that only worsens your dizziness.

You're still out of breath, whispering, "Thankyou, thank you..."

You notice that Suna is gearing up to get on, too. He's the first guy in a string of ten girls to take on the bull- and you laugh, whooping at him and fast to get where you can see him mount the thing, to get some distance from the big fake blond.

"Yeahhh!! Rin!!! Do your best!" You call.

He gives you a polite nod, but keeps his signature, determined pout.

Aran is already buttering the operator back up to do his worst, unable to keep his giggles at bay now. They've completely taken over the attraction and ruined this guy's night in their selfish antics.

Atsumu tilts his head at you and how you've withdrawn so quickly.

Never one to get attached, but always the prime instigator, he nudges you like a little boy poking at a dead frog, "What? Y'don't kiss yer friends?"

Useless and not great for either party.

You only glance up at him, colder, "There's plenty of girls in here, 'Tsumu."

Suna is built for this ride. The bull is full-speed spinning once, twice, thrice, and stopping on a dime but he has got some of the strongest thighs and obliques you've ever seen. People are no-shit cheering for his athletic ability.

"YEAHHH!! LET'S GOOOO, RIN!"

Atsumu sucks his teeth, frustrated, but not defeated. He knows better than to take it out on you when he's not done with you yet.

"I can make it up to you, baby."

Suna recovers to sit back up without any hands from being thrown sideways, and he is STILL wearing his signature bored expression.

"Oh my god..."

You severely doubt it, but can't react before sweet Kita is at your side, handing you an ice water. You smile and realize only as you're drinking it how dehydrated you are.

"Thank youuu!"

Atsumu cannot stand that he's losing from all angles. He backs off. You don't see him for a while. You try not to care too much.

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my inbox.

taglist (thanks for supporting!). @thisiswhereishitpostalot @megapteraurelia @babybird-meena@integers @bbybunsss @rinaizha @yuslurr @sunarinnnnnnn @mulfic @brainexpanding @sosinwjs @sarahlea32 @asthmaticcchoeee @allfruit0307 @integers @chrispychuya @mo072806 @sal3mfr0gz @lovelaceds-world @wakashudou @celestedagoat @dolfiins-art @mx-knowitall @algogercs @nyeinwow @wdymkaylaistaken @edenandagain @mayoeinase @iv-vee @seu1gizip @xkrsoup @caanabis late to the party? part one was here. and two was here. reply so you don't miss part four!

Ი𐑼 post note. not really sure how i'll end this series hmmm

shoyo is the epitome of motion>size (~4.5in, good thickness) and a curious rightside curve to that thing, like it's reaching for a volleyball, too. after being a pro for while, he's working with more confidence to pair with his usual healthy, if not overactive, libido. multiple round king. him and his buddy never get tired. early mornings + double espresso + 4 condoms = god tier summer hook-up.

asahi is a precious size king! big dick (~8.2in+) begs rare issues though. you better be giving that massive hog constant attention because he'll get soft, fast. and it's Never Your Fault- You're So Pretty, Baby! but blood flow is a funny, uncontrollable thing. better learn how to switch positions efficiently, iykyk. also...whiskey dick + flirty drunk = many disappointed one night stands and a proficiency for eating pussy.

tobio has got that dick locked up! tobio is a pretty boy, but he's got problems with intimacy, girl. you better get him in therapy first. if you're looking for a pic exchange, he might send a few decent ab snaps, but he is a Ghoster at heart.

satori... ohh you know what they say about skinny guys. he's quick to semi-publicly brag about his cock, too. it's the one precious thing he's got over a lot of guys who pick on his monster-build. so, it tracks that he's a hygiene guy! always well-shaved and freshly showered, "Cleanliness is next to Godliness, my love~!" doesn't fw the post-gym, sticky sweat, heavy B.O type sex. will turn you out in the shower, though. beyond size, he's got the golden ratio of obsession to intuition. if a bitch ain't shaking, he's not doing his job.

taglist. @thisiswhereishitpostalot @integers @babybird-meena @wanderless-musings @xkrsoup @polodetti

Ი𐑼 post note. not a planned post. just some super quick thoughts!

"You can come in!" You call out as you sign a form.

He hesitates, but slowly enters and shuts the door.

You incorrectly read him as being angry about the broken air conditioning.

"I know, I know. Just-," His eyes wander hard when you finally turn to him and the living room starts to clear out, "Awful timing. Let's try to get this done fast, yeah?"

"We'll be back tomorrow!"

"See ya Ms. (L/n)."

"Thanks guys!"

Girl, get what done? Looking like that was just begging for a different kind of chemistry.

Torn between player-Tohru and shitty lab-partner-Tohru, he rakes his hands through his scalp. He's sweating too, but it's not just the apartment.

"Where's the glasses?"

One-track minded, he simply can't help himself. Cute girls are his sole weakness, and coupled with the crushing realization that he had been all too dismissive of you-- he was trying in his own special way to bridge a one-sided gap.

You're confused for a second. He's never commented on your appearance before, so it throws you off.

"Oh," You laugh, "I... only need them to read."

After an odd, awkward glance, you lead him to your bedroom. It's where you had been able to hook up the most fans, where the sun wasn't directly in the window.

"Do I have something on my shirt?" You ask, as you begin setting up your study space on the cool hardwood floor. It's too warm to sit anywhere else other than your low table.

"What?" He breathes, eyes raising to your face once more.

You both sport similar, embarrassed expressions. Nobody protests to getting started, for real this time.

It quickly devolves into senseless intellectual violence, though. He's clearly not trying, and you are having to do all the work again.

He squints, jaw working at that perfect little top. He taps his forefinger on his bicep, savoring in the sight with another quick inhale. 

"Damn.." He groans at the sight. He kind of? covers it with an eye roll, "This shit is ridiculous."

"Just- !! Shut the fuck up," Your hand is palm-out and shaking close to his face, before it slowly, painfully, closes into a fist and bangs onto the table.

Sure, he must have been godly on the volleyball court to have even been admitted into your university, but he was actively making his incompetence your problem for one too many late nights.

His helpless tone and lack of arguing back are leaving you completely unchecked. With lots of ammunition against him, this hot-ass room, and ample pent-up anger to fuel you, the feelings start to spill out at once.

"Wha-awha'ddya mean?"

"That one. Right there." You snap.

"I-i I don't-,"

"The damn integer!! On the page!!"

"What! I don't know what you're sayiiiing!!" He cries, hands flying to grab something to relieve him of this stuffiness.

He fans himself with your textbook and relaxes against the side of your mattress.

"This is so dumb..."

"No!" You jab a finger at him, offended he's giving up again, "You are so dumb!"

"So," You look at all the work you've put forth into teaching him. From basic equations- while the clock has been tick-tick-ticking the entire time and you've made no progress tonight. You continue speaking out loud in a listless but cruel murmur, fingers massaging your sore brow, "Fucking. Dumb."

"God-- have you always been so useless?"

As it leaves your lips, regret sets your tongue dry. You look away, reeling at how fast your heartbeat is- made irrevocably worse by the heat in here- and take deep sigh in the silence.

The floor is a little wet where you were sitting moments ago. Ew- you cringe and take a look back at him, preparing to apologize for your words.

Oikawa is very still. Paused, like somebody had pressed a button to make him stop moving entirely. He doesn't meet your eye right away, but when he does, it's... like he's softened. In an odd way.

You apologize anyway, breaking eye contact for a moment, "I'm... uh, sorry. That was too much."

To your surprise, he shakes his head. Just a bit. Like, a miniscule amount. If you hadn't been watching him so intensely, you'd have never noticed it.

"N-no, you're right," He's getting really red at the ears and you only feel worse for your outburst.

He sets your textbook down and places his palms behind him, head lazily tilted to the side as he gets a good, deep chest stretch in. He seethes in your plaintive silence, eyes rolling back for a moment before meeting yours once more.

"Do y'know how hot you are when you're mad?"

His little confession and seemingly genuine shyness around it take you by unpleasant surprise.

"What are you talking about--? I--," You look around, for the cameras, and your heart is pounding again in uncertain desire, "What??"

He giggles at your reaction. He brings a hand up to cover his mouth, then rakes it through his soaked hair.

"Mmm- sorryy hahaa. I gotta thing for that." His brow raises, and he tacks on quickly through more giggles, "Plus, jeez, you're a total sleeper. Didn't realize."

For some sadistic reason, you cannot stop checking him out. His same old practice uniform is horribly distracting today, and once you notice his bulge, you're no better than him. He is constantly glancing around your sticky, exposed skin.

"Look- man, I-I said I was sorry-- I'm not trying to get involved in some blackmail scheme--," You try shake his words to keep some semblance of sanity here.

It's getting to a dizzying level of BS, between the sudden playboy DTF in your bedroom and all the desire to take your clothes off anyway.

"What! You think-," He glances away for a moment, amused, and comes back to you with an awfully convincing amount of sincerity, "You think I'm kidding right now?"

"You are such a dick." You roll your eyes, and shift, heated all over again as you check him out.

"You think I'm gonna fall for this stupid little joke?"

You press on, standing, to maybe help sober up:

"Do you WANT to fail? Because I don't! That's why I've been carrying our fucking grade all semester for you."

You add, super quick, pointing a rigid finger at him, "You're welcome by the way!"

Instead of standing, too, and storming out- he keeps his ass sat. And those pretty brown eyes are drinking you right up.

Oh God, he likes it-- you forgot he likes it. Your blush spreads faster than you can calm yourself down and he thinks that you like it, too.

And, to your fast-growing realization, you kinda do.

It all keeps spilling out, naturally, as you think through his cocky, inconsiderate behavior all semester and the 0s you had been looking forward to circling on his peer review, "You are so disgusting..."

Once again, where should have been an opportunity to defend himself, he's shamefully adjusting his hard cock in his athletic shorts.

"I'm not hearing a no?"

You sigh at him, conflicted, but growing to like him more by the second. He's never not been the most attractive guy in the lab. Maybe even the entire STEM building.

"What -exactly-," You enunciate your words clearly, so he'll give you the straightest answer possible, "Are you trying to do?"

"Y'know- just uhh, ride me a little," He squints, that cocky smirk and low murmur fucking you up, "Get it out of our systems, yeah?"

Ohh. Your blush is hard to hide, the suggestion too appealing right out the gate to act all high and mighty about it. He's staring up at you, well, all over you, with a perfectly content and empty-headed smile.

"Well... at least let me see what you're working with," You grumble- half convinced and fully turned on.

That was subject to change, though, if his cock was anything less than his confidence was letting on.

"My-? Oh, sure," He chuckles.

He's stumbly as he rises to his feet. You share a brief, loaded glance at the sudden height difference but you successfully end it by looking down.

Your hand finds your hip, eyes wide with curiosity as he stretches his waistband out.

Yeah. That was... yeah. You like that.

You blink at it a few times and try to get it together before you look back up at him. It's adorable, how you think you hide your thoughts so well. It helps get him off, too.

"How big would you say that is? A number."

"Mm, I dunno-," He chuckles, apologetic, and shrugs, "Never measured."

"Right..." You sigh.

"Probably can't count that high anyway."

A bright blush floods his fair-skinned face. You're so quick even though you're clearly not in your comfort zone.

He leans down and closes the distance fast for an unsure, but deeply needed kiss. You return it when you catch your balance- or, start to trust his, rather, and relax against his soft lips.

Do you even have TIME for this shit?

God- you really, really don't. But he is a rare fuck for a girl like you. You're used to STEM weirdos and maybe the rare mechanical engineering guys always trying to one-up you because you don't belong in their spaces. The medium-ugly classmates you tried in the past always trended from shy and approachable at first, to straight up misogynists with a superiority complex by the time you cut them off.

You're both gasping a little when you pull away. When he goes back in, he doesn't pay much mind to the fact that you're grinning and trying to pull away.

"Mmh- Oikawa--,"

Between blind and deaf kisses, he demands you call him Tohru. One hand swallows up your lower back- the other takes the back of your neck to help guide you.

The butterflies that take to swarming around in your belly inadvertently leave you weak, leaning into him, just to stay standing.

He was really good. You could've guessed. It was part of the stereotype. But if left you unprepared- and jumpy at his ability to leave you swooning.

You pull away, weak, and shaky, and panting. You're in for one, then two, and then after six more you're more than willing to straddle him as he guides you to grind on his lap and--

"Wha-? H-a, hahaa," You dive your chin to the side to avoid his kiss again, dizzy.

"Fuuck."

His palms are massaging your sides, your lower back, and your hips, steadily melting your tension away.

"Fuuck," You sigh harder at his skilled mouth over the side of your neck.

Then, he pushes your hips down to straddle his hardon-- and you gasp, tensing all over.

"Okay-okayokay," You clear your throat, buzzed off of his drug-like skill.

"Hm?" He fixes his hair, smiling, like he's fine and this isn't a little weird.

"Oi-Mm-mm, Toh-ru," You glance around his face, from his blacked out, easy-going eyes to his perfect lips, parted for easier breath, and the shimmery layer of sweat all over. You have to collect yourself, "What about the exam?"

You watch his pupils contract, in real time, at the mention of it. He blinks, dumbfounded, and shifts his weight.

It jostles you slightly so you have to pull back and fix yourself. You clear your throat while you have the opportunity.

"Mm... I'll, ahh..." A bit smaller, he puts his hands behind him once more.

You shudder at the lack of touch and the way he absentmindedly moves his hips to get a bit of friction going between you. This fucker is way - too - good.

"I'll come over again?"

You hold your breath.

Who would have guessed this cold-natured prick with a knack for making your life a living nightmare would be giving you these big, brown puppy dog eyes now?

"Absolutely not."

His jaw drops instantly and he starts to complain, confused and frustrated, but you shove your palm against his stupid mouth to shut him up. It's satisfying finally getting to do it.

"If you come over again, you'll never leave."

While he chews on that concerning, hauntingly sexy threat, you explain:

"We should go somewhere that's more... professional. Public. Probably should've done that to start, yeah?"

You watch that comment sting in real time.

When you release him, he's contemplative, instead of simply distracted by you. He scratches his tummy again and your eyes widen at the casual muscle underneath.

"Library... tomorrow?"

"Yeahyeah- library tomorrow- raise your shirt up a little."

His eyebrows raise, a laugh ghosting his lips.

"Kayy," He smiles and takes the bottom of his shirt between his teeth, hands submitted to support his weight from behind.

Your hands slip across his soft skin, and when you press, you're shocked to find that the muscle isn't 'rock hard.' It's still fleshy, and gives with pressure of your curious fingers.

"Mmm- you like that?" He giggles.

Mindlessly, you nod, "Mhm..."

You use both hands to thumb into all the divots of his plump abs. Exploring the lines that trickle across his sides and dip down into his v-line. Now that was harder. His whole pelvis felt justifiably very powerful.

As your nails trace lightly across his waistband, he bucks up at you with a whimper.

You're shocked from your slight trance and look back up to his face-- he's grimacing, and a bit teary eyed.

"Take it off," Your soft instruction breeds immediate action.

When he tries to lay down, you shake your head, slide off of his lap, and beckon him to stand with you.

Now he's a little weak in the knees, nervous, and twitchy as you feel up his strong back.

"Wow..." You mutter against his gorgeous skin. He's got a few moles across his shoulder blades- each practically begging to be kissed- and he has to grit through each tingly one with balled up fists at his sides.

His shoulders are so strong and wide, when you prompt him to flex, excitedly twirling around every angle-- that is for sure a competitive build. It was a relief to know he's actually good at something.

He gives you a breathless, hot chuckle, "You done creamin' over me or what-?"

"Not nearly," You admit, and take one of his arms, literally weighing it, in yours.

He pouts and shivers at your hungry hands. You grab at his lats once more and pull him around.

You're inquisitive. It's just your nature. And now you'll never screw a skinny guy again, that's for sure.

"Feels like you're gonna chop me up, mix me with somethin' and measure me out..."

He whines at how cruelly you kneel, just to try to wrap your hands around one of his big, powerful legs. You can't even manage to get his quad to fit, let alone everything else. His skin is so smooth under his shorts, albeit sweaty like yours, but much, much stronger.

"Y'know, at this point..." You gaze for a couple seconds, trying to calculate how big his package actually is according to what you've seen so far, "I might do that for extra credit."

"M-mmh!" He's super whiny at your quick over-the-shorts kiss to his print.

As you rise to meet his gaze, he's placing his arms around you and leaning to mutter in your ear,

"Can I taste you?"

He's beyond huffy now, practically grinding up against you, and asks- yeah, asks- if you'd let him taste you.

This brat never once asked to do anything for you, before. It leaves you squinting, a bit cold-- like, why now?

"Mm. Do I really look that different?"

He couldn't believe you didn't just give him an easy yeah.

"Honest?"

"Honest."

"You... don't carry yourself well. I dunno why you think you need to slouch so much- and... you don't do your hair super well, either. You look better without glasses. And... way better without safety goggles."

Even though you asked for honesty, it still pisses you off.

"That was a bit much." You scan him up and down.

"I can make it up to you," He suggests- still playful- and doesn't give you time to stew in your assessment of him, because he's bringing you in for another rough kiss, and pushes you up against your wall.

Your back hits the surface hard, but he keeps your head safe and secure in his palm.

"Mmh-!"

He's infuriating, and confusing, and horrible because he's so hot and this will not last. He literally took the breath out of you. None of that is enough to make you stop him from stealing those tiny shorts off of you as he sinks to his knees.

He keeps his mouth open and his tongue nice and fat, like a good boy.

"O-hh," You're weak again, trembling, at his skill, "H-ahh..."

It keeps catching you off-guard. This position is enough to make you unsure, too, but damn does he look good down there.

"Fuck..."

Your fingers slide into his roots and his brow screws up at the sensation. That slick tongue slides back into your heat and right against your sensitive clit.

You gasp, and gasp again- at his strong arms hooking around your thighs. It can't be understated, how interested you were in his athletic ability, how sure you are that you will never settle for less in the future.

Gazing up at you, making you feel good in ways you've never felt before, this man looks totally natural. As if he's given you nothing but affection this whole time.

That tongue-- you hated his stupid mouth, how he could never just shut up in class. Now you were actually putting it to good use.

In truth, it's an apology- of sorts. He doesn't like carrying guilt, but he does like that you're mad. He can't help but get a little excited at a girl yelling at him.

He gets enough of the begging and groveling, himself. It's a tired old story at this point. Girls lined up in high school just for the chance to talk to him, so none could blame him for getting a bit desensitized to it.

What he would never admit is that he actually had a moment of clarity recently. Where he saw through your nerdsuit after, on attempt #2 and 15 minutes to spare for your final weigh-in-- you snapped your fingers at him shushed him, real sharp. Much like an owner to its misbehaving dog.

He simply didn't think you had it in you. So he smiled all to himself, sat back, and studied the tension in your face as the value failed to meet the range you needed. It was sexy.

"F-uck-!"

You are trembling from the pleasure. You weren't about to tell him that you've never been ate before, but it's starting to show, because your shaking hand is slipping from the condensation from the walls, and you're short of breath, and he looks so at ease, but focused and--

Gasping, your whines clip high as you let your orgasm wash right over you.

He's got the gall to keep going, too. He laps, loud, at your soaked pussy like he actually believes you won't yank him away.

Your fingers tighten in his hair and, both of you weak and wincing, you manage to push his eager tongue away. It doesn't get a break, though, because you are very clumsy as you slide down the wall and straddle him. Knees banging, teeth clinking and all.

You both fall right onto the floor, kisses extra lubricated and pussy-flavored now. You're also not so nice as his head bangs onto the wood. The journey is so loud and creaky and full of thudding that you fear you'll get a noise complains from your downstairs neighbor.

"God-," His chin is actually slick, and you pull away to wipe it off for him before going back in for your due kisses.

Oikawa is fast to pull his cock out- he doesn't even both taking his shorts all the way off at this point, because he wants your weight on him. He wants your heat, to not make you wait for a second longer, and is fine with his back on the hardwood floor so long as he can fuck you already.

You're startled. You make a cute noise of surprise against his hungry mouth when you feel it, thick and hot and pulsing against your needy cunt.

"Never been on top before," You sigh, grinding, although a little reluctant, as he pushes and pulls you over his length.

You assume you're less experienced than him, he assumes you aren't experienced whatsoever. He wastes no time inviting, forcing, all of your weight on him.

"Well, first rule is to try and crush me," He laughs at your cringe when he takes his cock in his hand, "'Try.' You can't, but- y'know."

His kisses are distracted, maybe bordering on lazy, buzzing against your temple while he lines himself up with you.

"A-hh-!" You flinch, trying not to make a huge deal out of his dick so as to not inflate his ego, but it's not easy getting used to. It's actually pretty tough. You weren't expecting the struggle.

"Yea-h, there you go," His soft, constant encouragement does help, a lot, as you mumble and murmur and twitch.

"Good- fuh-ck, fuckfuck goood, good..."

He has to wait for you but he doesn't express any impatience, really. He's drinking you up as you sit a little further up on him and push on his chest. He won't tell you that it hurts a little.

"Sooo wet for me," He hums to himself. His eyes are wild, searching your body. Pretty Thing- that's what they're saying.

"Y-eah, wh-atever," You wear a bored pout, wincing, at his size, "Cause' you drooled all over me..."

"F-uck, fuck you're so ti-ght," He seethes as you try sitting back on him. There's a whine quick to follow.

Your eyes have to refocus for a few seconds, gasping, as he bottoms out-- your nails dig into his bouncy chest. He's much more hung than you're used to. The girth was the hardest thing to get used to.

"G-ah-! Fucking--h-mmn, you're- you're...big..."

"Y-eah?" He eggs you on as he keeps slapping his hips up into you, "Too- big for you?"

You sneer down at him.

You know what he's doing and take his stupid, chiselled jaw in your hand as a warning.

He eats it right up. His elated groan is proof.

"Hm-mm-- that's good, ah-ahhha..."

"What? This pussy too good for you?" You push his head to the side.

Your attitude had peaked, and you wait, curious, slowly sitting back and forth on him, to see if he actually likes the aggression- or if he was just bluffing.

Before you can place that hand back onto his chest, he nabs your wrist and settles it around his neck.

Being purposefully hurtful is not a practiced skill in the slightest, but his entitled and simple perspective on all things insofar makes it much easier to indulge his odd preferences. In a way, you are -still- doing him favors. It's just that this one, unlike chem lab, was actually enjoyable.

You squeeze, and with it, your heart skips with titillation, with found power, over his barely-there whimper. Oikawa is flushed and damp with sweat.

Maybe boundaries and expectations should've been a conversation, but the thought didn't and doesn't cross either of your minds.

Your eyes roll back- words uneven but not broken like his- as you ride and taunt him.

"Soo pathetic."

You know all the big words to make him crumble.

"You're too cute... but there's nothing going on up there, huh?"

His hand dwarfs your wrist as he pushes, adding pressure to your chokehold. Looks like he's drowning, lost in your features.

"Hm?" You smile, curious, as you study his huffing and whining.

He fills you up so good it puts your toys to shame. You're greedy, and you want another orgasm bad. If only just for the sake of saying you came twice fucking the volleyball team captain.

"Mmnh- ah- ahha-!" Oikawa cringes, adorable, at your nails digging into his sensitive side.

It makes him buck up into you just right. His hand flies to find yours and interlocks your fingers and he throws your weight forward by placing it next to his head.

It's not as sweet as it looks, because you were hard pressed to take your hand back. His grip was insane.

Once again, he is aggravating- because he's such a performative little brat just trying to make things harder on you.

Despite strong grip on his throat, he giggles and teases you: "What- y'ca-n't- fuck-- mmh!"

His inability to finish his sentence is so rewarding. You can control where he looks, with a slight shift in your wrist.

He winces, mewling, at the way you roll your hips on him.

"Can't what?" You beckon through gritted teeth.

At some point, he just starts repeating himself and it all falls off into unfinished gibberish.

You're pretty satisfied with yourself overall.

Until your left thigh starts cramping.

All too fast, your legs were betraying you. You were wobbly, at best, and panting. In tens of seconds, you realize you weren't going to be able to keep this up, as is. You weren't very practiced, and it makes you shy as he feels you, sees you, start to withdraw.

"Hm?" He cocks his head and blinks off some of his high, properly confused.

"T-ired-," You blush, trembling bad even though you've long since relaxed your thighs. You expect him to maybe roll his eyes or click his tongue at you.

But he subverts your expectations for the thousandth time and laughs, cooing, "Mm, that's o'kay that'sokay- I goootchu."

He takes a few moments to adjust you and truly grip you the way he needs. You think he's taking forever, and that your precious chance to cum again with soon disappear, until he actually starts fucking you.

"A-Hh-!" Your nails dig into scalp, his skin.

He fills you up again and again, the sound of it filthy and loud, as he brings forth a kind of panicky unsureness at how to handle so much rough and ready pleasure.

His cock is perfectly slick and full and hot- you want him, and beg him, deeper, and harder, pitiful and muffled into his shoulder.

You've never been able to relax against somebody like this before and trust that they can handle. Oikawa makes it seem so easy- supporting your weight comfortably, without effort, without complaining, and makes you feel so good. Your standards will never again be lowered out of sheer desperation.

However. This asshole made you work so hard when he could screw you like this the entire time? You don't have the room to be bitchy about it- because you're gasping, pawing, again.

"Ohh my god- I'm-- Mn!" You sob into his shoulder, forced into another early orgasm.

You're having to take his breathy grunts and groans right against your ear-- an overwhelming, tingling sensation that spreads down that entire half of your back.

And as he gets closer, he wraps his heavy arms around you, palms flat in more of a tender hug, than anything.

He finishes between you, thank god, because that also wasn't a conversation, and could've been utterly disastrous.

It takes a minute of coming-to before either of you can actually speak to each other. The air is a bit tense now that you've 'got it out of your system.'

He's better -and faster- at filling silence than you, "Best you've ever had?"

All you can do is laugh. He's got no idea how right he is.

It's... so hot. You're both drenched, and the floor is dangerously slippery. He hums in discomfort when you sit up on his poor, sensitive cock and jam his hips harder into the unforgiving floor.

"Yeah, I'll miss it," You grant him an ounce of sincerity, voice low, reflective, and sobered.

"We got 'til finals," He remarks, flat.

At first, he sounds like he's reverting right back to the the guy who talked shit about you from a foot away that first day of class.

But you see the softness in how he checks you now. For a reaction, for the reward of getting under your skin. You decide to take the bait because you want him, and this, again.

"If we pass midterms," You withdraw before he can bring you in for a kiss, or cuddle, and he practically sobs at you.

Your smirk is hidden when you turn to grab the rest of your clothes, "Get out, dumbass. See you tomorrow."

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my inbox.

taglist. @thisiswhereishitpostalot @megapteraurelia @integers @babybird-meena @polodetti @sweetieelilii @blueberrymumshikens @littleprince-rei @defnot-bri @st0ppleaseee @saltyscoops @berrymunch25 @gh0stlybo0 @kimialaia @mentallymaeri @wanderless-musings @edenandagain @seu1gizip @mayoeinase @xkrsoup Ი𐑼 post-note. dude...5k of oikawa...this was insane for me

You throw him off because he doesn't really talk to girls. He's isn't accustomed to their often confusing and mixed signals. More importantly, he doesn't talk to anyone who watches what they eat. All of his friends were total garbage disposals, including himself. That concept is a bit out of his expertise and far from his comfort zone.

He clicks his tongue- eyes flittering to your chest- and you shrink.

His reaction reads more like a harsh, 'What? How could you possibly be on a diet?'

You wish he'd leave. Sometimes the weirdos were worse than the conventional guys, immediately more comfortable with teasing, because they want to make themselves look better and boost their popularity by asserting the status quo right away. Guys like his precious buddy Ushijima would maybe give you a judgy look, but never say anything aloud.

Moving had taken its toll on your patience. This happened back at your old school, but you were hoping rich Shiratorizawa kids didn't have as much interest in bullying.

You don't even spare another glance, as you mumble, "Um... was that it?"

He shivers hard at your frosty demeanor and backs up- like a kicked puppy- at such a brutal rejection.

"Uhh- Y-yeah. Yeah..."

He trudges to the door- you squirm, horribly aware of yourself again, and even catch Ushijima looking at you through the opening. It's simple for him. As simple as the shrug he gives his slouchier friend.

You move onto your homework and get lost, find reprieve, in it again.

Based on that incident alone, you come to realize it probably wasn't Ushijima's idea to invite you along. If he was being underhanded, he would've sent his goon straight back inside to ensure you came with them so he could embarrass you.

So, when Tendou approaches you a week and a day later, you know the true problem is somewhere between you two.

It, at very least, simplifies things.

Tendou pops his head into the room first to locate you. He puffs his collar a few times to hype himself up. When he strolls in, he finds you at the back, rummaging through your things.

Because he's kind of walking up on you, he's a tad gentler this time. It successfully keeps you from shooing him away. You opt for a narrow side glance.

He's quiet, but hopeful, "Luuuunch?"

"I think we've been over this before."

You stand upright with crossed arms, impatient, and willing to be more forward this time, so he'd go away faster and hurt your feelings a little less.

You're a bit shorter than he realized. He's a bit taller than you realized.

You back up an inch because you're conflicted by it. He shoves his hands in his pockets and tilts his head down at you.

He's not so much Ushijima's goon as much as his crazy-ride-or-die-looking bodyguard. You can't believe that he's this big, himself. The baggy uniform doesn't help his case from a distance. But up close, you feel shrimpy.

"Mm? Oh- the diet thing..." He thinks for only a few seconds, rocking back and forth on his heels as the rest of the class keeps dispersing around you. "It's Friday, though? You don't have cheat days?"

You squint at him, hard.

He grips the excess of his spring sweater and steps back with a face like you had shot him right through the heart.

He exclaims, despite not even remotely being alone, "Ah!!"

"Wh-at??" You glance, panicked, at his doubled-over form.

"Aughh..." He bursts upright, scaring you again, and admits, "You're breaking my heart!"

If this freak of nature hadn't already attracted every ounce of attention in the classroom, he was now scraping up the last bits of hushed whispers and over-the-shoulder looks.

Flustered, and confused, you hurriedly shove him out of the room.

In the hallway, it's a bit less crowded, and the students aren't as nosy because they don't know you as well.

"What is your problem-?"

His eyes are usually so intense and unreadable when paired with all his sharp features. He was fairly handsome when he wasn't staring you down. Thankfully, now, he was looking to the side, out the window, and held a bit of softness that you had never noticed before.

Tendou sighs. He kicks the air to the side, and you swear you could see some tinge to his ears. He's pouty, and reticent.

He doesn't know how to act around you and often regrets every word he speaks because your reactions are so layered.

It's slowly unfolding in your gaze, though. His silence, and his inability to talk for the first time is marked.

"Have you been trying to ask me out?" You ask before you can think to stop yourself. If you're wrong, it'll look real bad.

Tendou opens his mouth with a breath to say something back right away- but no sound comes out.

He shuts it firmly and squeezes his eyes. He clenches his jaw. And the blushing spreads fast, all over. A chatterbox, usually, but now lost for words so bad that he can't even confess properly.

You were right?

Your smile widens to a big grin. You bring your hand up to cover it- but you start giggling, nervous, and are acutely unsure of how to react.

It makes him shift his weight from side to side, then groan with his hands ruffling up his own hair, rough and fast. His hair looks pretty wild after that, actually, and it doesn't help you in your struggle to stop grinning.

He has to step back, then turn around and walk a few steps, and then walk right back to you. He's not any calmer, but this time he does say,

"I wanted to-...to ask you out before anyone else could!" That adorable red color creeps all down his neck. There was no hiding it for a guy as pale as him.

He mutters, "Fuck" under his breath and you are grateful that he's more worked up than you.

"Well..." You take a big breath and look away, so giddy that you can't look any higher than his sleeve, especially not properly at his face, "Nobody's really lined up, so."

He nods, appreciative, that you threw him that bone, and catches another quick look at all of you. He gets embarrassed, though, and has to take another circle lap. You burst into more giggles.

You probably laugh at him for two full minutes in the hall, sharing butterflies, cute admissions, and apologies.

taglist. @thisiswhereishitpostalot @integers @babybird-meena @wanderless-musings @xkrsoup @polodetti Ი𐑼 post note. this was a pretty fun and easy write. thank you satori requesters

updates.

? what's with the numbers/why isn't my request here? so what i did this time around was kinda compile handfuls of requests into most-requested characters, then take certain details from requests i liked more, and frankenstein them all into something more my style.

? how are you? will you be back for good? i have a 4-day weekend (LFG) so i'll be trying to post a lot over the next few days. my posting is contingent on work now, and work is unpredictable. so while i will try to update 1x per week, i cannot keep promises. i did miss ya'll tho 🥹

? where's running through the whole team p.3? yeah, i owe ya'll the next part...but man did i bite off more than i could chew. not gonna lie, every time i sit down i end up rereading what i alr did, applauding myself, and closing out the tab.

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my inbox.

taglist. @thisiswhereishitpostalot @integers @babybird-meena Ი𐑼 lmk (or remind me if i forgor) if you want to be on the general/all posts taglist below!