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The first thing Iwaizumi says when she walks into the empty classroom that Thursday afternoon is, “You planned this didn’t you.” Then, privately in her head, “Another bad yuri manga cliché???????”
“What! I would never, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa gasps in shock, giving her girlfriend the most scandalized expression she can muster. Which isn’t much, when Iwaizumi can practically see the smugness radiating off every pore in her body, like those radioactive waves they learned about in chemistry that fry your brain.
She wonders how long it had taken Oikawa to push all the tables in the classroom up together to form a long column in the centre when they had clearly been arranged properly a mere few hours ago. Iwaizumi snickers as her eyes flicker over to window, where the blinds were rolled up to specific lengths to allow just the right amount of sunlight to stream in artfully onto said tables. In the centre of it all, Oikawa is sprawled out on her tummy, the top buttons of her blouse unbuttoned, looking at Iwaizumi from under her lashes with the expression she was practicing a few days ago in the mirror.
(When Iwaizumi asked what the fuck she was doing because she was genuinely worried that Oikawa was having stroke, she’d huffed angrily. Then, a few seconds later she grinned ominously and said, “This is the face that will make your granny panties drop, Iwa-chan. Watch out.”)
“Then why did you have to do all that,” Iwaizumi gestures at the room, torn between amusement and exasperation, “Just to talk?”
To be honest, Iwaizumi hadn’t been expecting anything less from Oikawa, who had sent her a text message which read “hey babe <3 c u in class 6 l8er 5pm??? want 2 talk”, followed by copious amounts of the ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) emoticon.
“Fine, fine. You caught me.” Oikawa heaves a long, dramatic sigh and maybe that isn’t the intended effect, but Iwaizumi finds her eyes drawn to the elegant slope of Oikawa’s collarbones, the tiny bit of lace peeking through her shirt.
She shimmies off the tables, skirt riding up to expose her pale, toned thighs in the process and sidles up to Iwaizumi. Oikawa circles her fingers around her wrist, rubbing over the protruding bone gently with a thumb. This close, Iwaizumi can smell her strawberry body mist, feel her warmth through the layers of clothing, her breasts pushing insistently into Iwaizumi’s arm.
“I just wanted to spend some time with you. I missed you,” she whispers. Her breath tickles Iwaizumi’s ear in a tantalising sort of way, making goosebumps rise up on her skin. She strokes the other hand down the latter’s spine, chasing the shivers. Iwaizumis heartbeat speeds up by a tenfold.
Iwaizumi swallows, the sound amplified by the emptiness of the classroom. She recognises that Oikawa knows she’s got her visibly flustered and into it but a defiant part of her still wants to push, see how far Oikawa can go.
“We literally have lunch, study and go home together every day,” she deadpans.
“Do you really need me to spell it out for you?” Oikawa’s eyes glint dangerously as she backs Iwaizumi into the classroom door, pressing the centre of the knob to lock it with a firm “click”. Iwaizumi has to tilt her head up to meet the challenge in Oikawa’s lust-filled gaze, her heart pounding a staccato in her chest.
“Yeah,” Iwaizumi murmurs, eyelids falling to half-mast. “Show me.”
Slowly, deliberately, Oikawa slides a leg in between Iwaizumi’s pressing her flush against the door, not breaking eye contact as she kisses underneath her jaw and licks a thick stripe up the side of Iwaizumi’s neck, the exact region where she’s especially sensitive.
Iwaizumi’s breath hitches in her throat as she feels electrical impulses firing in her brain, the warm coil of desire unfolding at the bottom of stomach,
The last of Iwaizumi’s self-control breaks, and she can feel Oikawa smiling against her lips in that self-satisfactory way of hers when she tangles her fingers in her hair to bring her face up to eye-level and pushes their lips against each other.
The heat of Oikawa’s mouth is delicious and addictive, and Iwaizumi takes advantage of Oikawa’s momentary distractedness to reverse their positions, pressing Oikawa against the class notice board. She works a hand between her legs, dragging her index finger down the slit of Oikawa’s pussy through her panties, surprised by how wet she already is.
“How long have you been thinking of me like this?” whispers Iwaizumi, two parts curious, and at least ten times more turned on.
Oikawa shudders, laughing to cover up her blushing. “Too long,” she gasps, clamping her thighs around Iwaizumi’s fingers when she strokes Oikawa’s cunt through the material. The high-pitched whine she lets out goes straight to Iwaizumi’s clit.
“W-wait,” Oikawa chokes between breaths, a hand coming down Iwaizumi’s wrist tightly.
She immediately drops her hand from under Oikawa’s skirt, “What’s wrong? We can stop if you want to.”
Iwaizumi searches Oikawa’s face for traces of apprehension, only to be met with lust and pure want.
“No, don’t stop,” Oikawa pants brokenly, catching her breath, then adds, “My shirt.”
With shaking fingers, Oikawa unbuttons the rest of her school blouse, pushing it off her shoulders and onto the floor to reveal a lace bralette. It complements her skin tone in the prettiest way possible; a light cream against the pinkish flush of her chest. The straps are a ribbons of velvet, bisecting the lines of her collarbones and Iwaizumi can see Oikawa’s upturned nipples through the sheer flower-patterned lace, hard and straining against the material.
“I wanted to look pretty for you,” she whispers softly, cupping a hand against Iwaizumi’s jaw. She looks so eager and honest. Iwaizumi is momentarily speechless, and for a second, she wonders how it’s possible to want to fuck someone so hard and yet be so in love with them at the same time.
“Oh my god, Tooru,” she groans. Tentatively, she brings up a hand to stroke the delicate material. She trails a fingertip over Oikawa’s nipple in circles, barely touching, just the way she likes it. Encouraged by Oikawa’s sharp intake of breath, she steadies herself against the wall with her other hand and bends down to close her mouth around her other nipple, tasting the salt of her skin and laves her tongue over it generously through the lace. Oikawa keens against her and practically mewls, breathing in soft huffs.
Oikawa threads her fingers through the thick black strands of Iwaizumi’s shoulder length hair, urging her on as she arches into the wall gasping at the delicious friction between her nipple, the lace and Iwaizumi’s tongue.
When she pulls Iwaizumi up for a kiss, her girlfriend’s lips are wet and shining with spit and her pupils are blown wide open with desire.
“You’re so fucking hot,” Iwaizumi mutters in between kisses, rutting up against Oikawa’s thigh. Oikawa hooks a thumb under the waistband of her school skirt to strum Iwaizumi’s hipbone with the pad of her thumb. She jerks in response and Oikawa rakes the fingernails of her other hand across the planes of Iwaizumi’s hard stomach, teasing.
Iwaizumi hisses into her mouth, the insistent pounding between her legs amplified. She catches Oikawa by the forearm to guide her to the tables. Through the lust-filled haze, a part of her secretly thanks past-Oikawa for having the foresight to set this up.
Impatiently, Oikawa clambers onto one, so that she’s now eye-level with Iwaizumi’s chest and begins to unbutton her shirt hastily then slides it off her shoulders. To speed up the process Iwaizumi reaches behind to unclasp her bra, and flings it a short distance away. Oikawa whistles appreciatively at the sight of Iwaizumi’s bare chest, grinning mischievously up at her, before promptly burying her face in between her breasts, sucking and biting as her hands massage them firmly in a circular motion. Iwaizumi gasps brokenly, her eyelids sliding shut. She’s pretty sure she’s soaked all the way through her underwear by now and after a few minutes of Oikawa’s ministrations, the burning between her thighs becomes too strong to ignore.
Oikawa makes a tiny sound of surprise when Iwaizumi pushes her gently down onto the table so that she lies down flat on her back and climbs up after her. She takes a moment to appreciate how Oikawa’s hair is spread out underneath of her, wisps of chocolate brown curling into the gentle pink glow of her cheeks.
“Pretty,” Iwaizumi murmurs. She brushes a hand up Oikawa’s inner thigh, stretching her panties to the side with two fingers before pushing them into the wet heat till they are knuckle-deep. With the thumb of the same hand, she presses onto Oikawa’s clit as she fucks her fingers into her in a steady rhythm.
Her wrist is kind of starting to ache from the awkward angle, but Oikawa keeps making these soft, insistent mewls as she pushes herself into Iwaizumi’s hand, eyes screwed shut in pleasure.
She lets out a particularly loud gasp when Iwaizumi crooks up fingers just right, grabbing onto her shoulder with a death grip.
“I-I’m close,” She breathes, squirming closer till her side is pressed into the front of Iwaizumi’s body. Iwaizumi leans over and kisses the shell of her ear, snagging the lobe in between her teeth as Oikawa pants into her neck.
Then, she tenses for a long moment, arching back onto the table as her pussy clenches up around Iwaizumi’s fingers before she moans and comes in hard, wracking pulses.
Iwaizumi pistons her fingers into Oikawa’s pussy through it as she writhes into the table underneath, pupils blown wide and Oikawa buries her face in Iwaizumi’s throat as she rides it out, panting shakily. It’s pretty hot and not for the first time that day, Iwaizumi realises how badly she needs to come.
When Oikawa goes slack against her, Iwaizumi slides her fingers out slowly, making sure Oikawa has her eyes trained on her when she cleans the come off her fingers with her tongue, swirling it around each digit deliberately.
Oikawa gets the message and it takes barely a second for her to slide down on her thighs, positioning herself in between Iwaizumi’s legs.
She lifts her hips off the table eagerly when Oikawa hooks both her thumbs into the waistband of Iwaizumi’s underwear to slide them off. She’s craving the tantalising heat of Oikawa’s mouth on her core, so much that she can’t help but tangle her fingers in her hair to guide her towards it.
But Oikawa has other plans, smirking as she ducks out from under Iwaizumi’s grip, choosing instead to kiss a painfully slow trail up the side of her inner thigh. With each taunting smack of her lips against overheated skin, Iwaizumi grows more impatient. She shoots Oikawa her most intimidating glare but she only smiles at her guilelessly from under her lashes.
Before she can open her mouth to complain about how much of a fucking tease Oikawa’s being though, the breath is stolen out of her lungs when Oikawa closes her mouth around her clit and just sucks. At that moment, her brain kind of just short-circuits, focus zeroing in to the intense pleasure building between her thighs. Oikawa steadies a hand on Iwaizumi’s belly when she arches off the table and licks up her slit slowly with the flat of her tongue, fingers rubbing small circles into the side of her clit.
She feels the familiar pressure building in her gut, the warmth slowly spreading outwards from the centre and holy shit- there’s something unbearably sexy about the determined way Oikawa works her tongue against her, the hungry way her eyes are drinking in the sight of Iwaizumi.
Iwaizumi reaches down to cradle Oikawa’s face. Her skin is soft and warm in her hand and she skates the pad of her thumb over her cheekbone just as the corners of her vision begin to blur.
She lets out a litany of curses when she comes, involuntarily bucking her hips to ride off the orgasm. Oikawa licks her out through it, coaxing out the last vestiges of pleasure with her fingers. When Iwaizumi stills, she leans back on her haunches, extricating herself from between Iwaizumi’s thighs.
“C’mere,” Iwaizumi murmurs, tugging at Oikawa’s arm so that she slides up next to her.
“Hey,” Oikawa whispers when they’re eye level. The sunlight streaming through the windows pools in her smile, illuminating the skin on her shoulders until they look almost opalescent.
“Hey,” Iwaizumi replies as she drapes a hand over Oikawa’s waist, pulling them closer and tangling their limbs together.
Oikawa grins up at her sleepily then then noses into the crook of her jaw, sighing contentedly.