#I don’t remember much about the game tbh? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

merlucide · 17 days ago

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BLLK TEAM SPOTTING YOU IN THE CROWD!

notes: hahahahehajajsj I’m SO excited for this guys- the new episode had me TWEAKING.

characters: Isagi, Rin, Bachira, Chigiri, Nagi, Karasu, Otoya, Yukimiya, Niko, Gagamaru, Aryu, Reo, Barou, Hiori, Shidou

warnings: reading the same thing over again but in a different font LMAO, cringe but WHO gaf??, y/n glazing (help😭💀)

You and your friend managed to snag close seats for the Blue Lock vs. U-20 match, and you could BARELY contain your excitement!!—especially because your beloved boyfriend was playing. You both were decked out in all blue, sticking out from the white and red crowd. The odds were stacked against him and his team, but you had complete confidence that they would hold their own. As you settled into your seats, the teams made their way onto the field. The moment you spotted your boyfriend, you and your friend screamed your heads off, cheering as loud as you could. The game was going great so far; at halftime, the score was 2-1, with Blue Lock in the lead! The players were standing around on the field, catching their breath, when he finally spotted you in the crowd, screaming + waving your arms wildly.

ISAGI YOICHI

He’s like ehh?!? You came?!? To watch him?!? For reals?!

Gets all touched lmao 😭

Waves back with a big ol smile :3

Means a lot because you cheered for him when he was nobody 🥹 AND now he’s playing against THE U-20 aaaa

Yells ‘HIIIII’

-Bachira wiggles his eyebrows at him 😏 -which makes him all blushy and pushes him off him lol

Que bachira going ‘ooooooo isagi’s gotta s/ooooooo 🤭😏’

So embarrassed hehe

Blows you a little kiss when nobody’s looking tho :3

RIN ITOSHI

He didn’t think you’d come tbh

Feels proud that you did tho! not that he’d let you know ofc

He gave you a little wave and called it good (he has to remain mysterious- especially in front of Sae!!)

He’s very conflicted if he’s glad you came or if wishes you didn’t lmao 💀

Bc when he heard ‘Woah- They’re cute’ from his teammates he snapped his head over

“They’re taken, back off scum.” He’ll snap

Everyone’s sorta like ?? RIN PULLED SOMEONE??

Que immediate questioning

‘HOW DID YOU GET A S/O BEFORE I DID?!’ ‘I feel bad for them..’ ‘DID YOU PAY THEM??’

He just tells them to shut up

smirking inside, heh

BACHIRA MEGURU

He’s like 😦-> 🤩

inside he’s like ‘OHMYGOSHTHEYCAMEEEEEEE! :D’

Screams your name jumping and waving his arms

‘Y/NNNNNNN ARE YOU WATCHING ME?!? Y/NNNNNNNN!!’

‘YEAAAAAAAAAH!! YOU LOOKED SO COOOOOOOOL!!’

You def go with his mom tho 😌

You and Yuu are screaming your heads off together- ‘GOOO !! YOU GOT THIS!!!’ ‘GET THE FREAKIN’ BALL MEGURU!! HES OPEN- GOOOOO!!!’

Shes very glad you’re supportive of her son 🥹<3 (live laugh love yuu)

He points to you and says to his friends ‘THATS MY S/O!!! :D’

and they’re just like ‘..cool buddy’

They’re trying to figure out how he pulled someone lmao

After the match he practically jumps on you lol- No sorry, he literally does and you both crash on the floor

Both of you are just rolling around screaming in excitement lol

CHIGIRI HYOMA

So embarrassed lol

Like ‘My family AND my s/o came?!” Help he appreciates yall coming but it flusters him!!

Especially when his teammates are making comments about YOU and his SISTER

it’s too much for him 🙂‍↕️

He made it real clear that he’s your bf tho, so no one gets ideas!!

Really happy you came though, especially since you were one of the most encouraging people when he tore his ACL <3

NAGI SEISHIRO

Didn’t even think you’d come- like the thought that you would come didn’t even cross his mind (go figure)

‘Oh, y/n’s here, cool’

Lazily waves back

Wants to tell Reo you’re here but remembered that they broke up 🙂‍↕️

Yuki goes up to him and asks ‘Oh who’s that?’ and he’s just like ‘It’s y/n’

‘..I see, who is y/n?’ ‘uh, I don’t remember..🧍‍♀️’

‘Someone important tho,’

Just sorta stares at you until the whistle blows lmao 😭

KARASU TABITO

Super proud n smug :)

Like ‘Heh, MY s/o came’

Super super happy you’re there omg, but ofc he can’t let that show too much 😌

Waves back ofc

He looks at all his teammates to make sure they’re seeing this

It makes him feel really special that you came to watch HIM play :)

Def a confidence booster

Gets a annoyed bc he knows you spent a shit ton of money for this lmao

🐝:’oooo who’s that Karasu-kun?’

🐦‍⬛: ‘Heh, that’s my s/o 😏’

🐝: ‘For realsies? :o’

🐦‍⬛: ‘Yup 😌’

🥷:He’s such a simp bro’

🐦‍⬛:’Shut up Otoya.’

OTOYA EITA

He’s low key tweaking on the inside tbh

gives you the frat boy ‘nod’ and the three finger wave 💀

Doesn’t even wait for anyone to ask about you he’s already going

‘Yeah that hot chick/person is my s/o, it’s aight’ to be jealous’

But they’re just like ?? How tf did YOU pull anybody bro??

Poses for you LMAO

Is def waiting for you to make an edit of him or smth 😐

Your friend is looking at you like ‘seriously, him?~_~’ I am that friend.

Will NAWT shut up about how his hella hot s/o came to his game

YUKIMIYA KENYU

He’s like ‘Oh! They’re here?! Really?’ :3

Calls your name and gives a big wave

Super happy and proud that you came :)

Laughs a bit at the your dramatic outfits but appreciates it!

Tells the nearest person who you are and a bit about cha’ :3

When you blow him kisses he catches em’ and cradles them to his heart >:)

got a side eye from Nagi lol

NIKO IKKI

SOOOO flustered lmao

pink cheeks n everything ><

whispers a ‘hi’ and waves a little wave back

Super duper excited n happy you came :3

Wants to impress you so bad now- lol

Really hope no one sees you bc he might just die if he gets teased

-which of course they do and what he feared happens lmao

ARYU JINBEI

a very stylish single tear falls from his eye

‘Oh dearest y/n, you are so glam for this, I cannot even..!’

Dramatically flares his arms as a ‘wave’ and sings your name

‘Y/NNNNNNNNNN!- are you ready for this historic momennnnnnt-‘

Poses elegantly for you, talking to himself about how styl this is

GAGAMARU GIN

Squinting like ‘Is that y/n’ - o -

then eyes wide like ‘It is y/n’ • o •

Jumps up and hits his head on the goal 💀 then proceeds to jump again

Waves both arms and yells really slowly ‘CAAAAAN YOUUUU SEEEEE MEEEEEE?’

Then proceeds to talk to you yelling his lungs out, he stopped when Karasu told him ‘shut up, they can’t hear ya’’

He stopped for a brief moment, then continued

(after they get on field)

REO MIKAGE

SO happy. Like ‘🥹😁’ happy

Smiling the BIGGEST smile :)

Really, really appreciates you coming

Especially since you were literally the only other person aside from Ba-Ya that supported his dream

And! Speaking of Ba-Ya she was beside you in her usual attire, waving a little blue flag

Waves to you with both hands😌

Also blows you so many kisses ofc

Afterwards he’s going to give you the biggest hug and the FASTEST smooch ever

BAROU SHOEI

He was hoping you’d come, he wanted you to see just how much more he’s improved 😌

He heard your cheers and screams when he came into field and that also fueled into his desire to crush Isagi >:3 like ‘heh, bet’

You were VERY happy with how he celebrated his goal 😏🤭 you spammed your camera lmao

Waves back at you ofc, he is a gentleman after all

When someone asks who are you he just says ‘My partner, y/n. Don’t get any ideas donkey.’

heh, 😏

Really appreciates you coming :) especially with how expensive tickets are oml

def forced you to let him pay you back lmao

HIORI YO

He knew his parents would be there, but he wasn’t sure if you’d come. Very pleased you did! :)

Chuckles + rolls his eyes at your outfits

He’s got a cute little smile on his face :3

Waves back at you and signs you ‘thanks’

Points you out as ‘y/n, my sweet s/o’ to Isagi

Brags to him too lmao

Like ‘Yeah, they’re like perfect in every way- but you’ll find someone who is pretty decent though, don’t worry ☺️’

SHIDOU RYUSEI (my man will always be included soo)

Lets out the goofiest, happiest laugh

points at you with two hands and yells

So pumped you came omg

‘SAE- SAE LOOK! THATS MY BABY! THE ONE I WAS TELLN’ YOU ABOUT!’ ‘I don’t care.’

Continues to yell out you asking ‘DID I LOOK COOL?’ or ‘DID YOU FREAKN SEE THAT?’

Blows you tons of kisses before he has to start again

everyone on the bllk team is genuinely confused how tf this guy pulled anyone and is concerned for you and your mental health 💀

AHHAJSJEJES IM SO EXCITED BROOOOO

made Nov 9 2024

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charliemwrites · 23 days ago

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Hiiiii! So I’m not super thrilled with this but I’ve been having a time of it at work so I worked on this when I could 🙃

Not sure if there will be a second part yet tbh we’ll see!

Edit: almost forgot to add that the gorgeous divider below is by @gildui they have some absolutely beautiful cod themed dividers.

Carrion

Reader comes back Wrong

Content: implied/referenced torture, injury, suicide reference/implicated “pact” (by background character), lack of wound care

The breakup was bad.

Not in the top 3 of Simon’s worst nightmare-inducing memories - but likely top 5. He certainly wakes up chest aching and eyes burning often enough for it to be a solid contender. He’s haunted by tears that dripped like acid and the cracks in your voice deafening him.

On bad days, he thinks he can still see you shuffling down the halls, eyes sunken and red-rimmed, dark circles and chapped lips. Anger giving way to resignation giving way to pain and sadness. The rest of the team tight-lipped and wincing, no sides taken, shoulders and ears offered equally in commiseration.

Your misery wanted no company, though.

You didn’t tell Simon that you were leaving. Gaz let slip over a subdued but obligatory game of cards, you’d be gone for a long time - loaned out to Laswell.

Simon didn’t go to see you off. Didn’t ask why you were leaving or accuse you of being too immature to be on a team with him. He didn’t wish you good luck, stay safe with the rest of the team on the tarmac at 0-dark when you took off.

He should have.

Price says you’ll be gone for six months. Just six. It’s better this way, he reminds them when Johnny balks. His eyes are on Simon, though, when he adds that you need to get your head on straight, and you weren’t able to do it with them.

So. Six months.

Simon stops expecting you on his left. Stops smelling your shampoo lingering on bits of clothes he pretended not to notice you steal. He still dreams about you begging him not to push you away.

183 days come and go.

On day 184, Laswell sends word - your temporary team likes you quite a bit. They want you to stay on for one more month… one more mission… one more…

Six months turns to ten.

312 days since you left; since you were home.

The team hasn’t stopped leaving a space for you at their tables, right between Gaz and Price. You miss your own birthday. Laswell says she’ll pass along well wishes.

The situation changes. A target resurfaces. All hands on deck, including yours.

374 days. Twelve months and some change.

They don’t spend the holidays with you, but there’s a stack of presents waiting in Price’s office. Your mugs have collected dust in the back of the rec room cabinet.

Laswell says you’re still deployed on one last mission, return TBD. Soon, though.

487 days. Still TBD. Soon. Really. Just some loose ends to tie up.

561 days. There was some trouble during exfil but you’re alright. Just a bit of recovery.

You’re coming home.

590 days. You’ll land at 0700 tomorrow.

It’s been 591 days since Simon last saw you. Since any of them last saw you.

Laswell has come to deliver you personally, a kind of apology for keeping you away so long. She’s the first off the transport and you’re right behind her.

Your hair is shorter. Much, much shorter. There’s a new patch on your jacket - memento from your temporary team, Simon figures.

Apart from that, you look… almost exactly how you did when you left. Dark circles under your eyes, mouth drawn and tight. There’s invisible weight compressing your shoulders, urging them in and down. But you’re there again. Just the way he remembers.

(Why are you the way he remembers?)

“Long time, no see,” Gaz calls, reaching for you.

There’s half a beat, you blink. Hesitate.

Then you grin and reach back.

“Missed my pretty face, did you?” you reply.

Johnny laughs and brings you in for a hug. You twitch hug him back, patting his shoulder as you pull away.

“Good to have you back, Sergeant,” Price says, shaking your hand.

You turn to Simon, nod in greeting, expression pleasant. “Ghost.”

So that’s how it’ll be? Alright.

“Sergeant.”

That night, you go out for drinks with the team and Laswell. Simon goes along to show there are no hard feelings.

(Not that you seem to need reassurance. It’s not even that you’re not looking at him. You are. Whenever he speaks, the rare times he does, or if he shifts in his seat. Your gaze doesn’t linger or jerk away, you treat him like you do Johnny and Gaz and Price.)

When Johnny mixes up your usual for Price’s, you don’t even seem to notice. But Simon does.

“When did you start drinking whiskey?” he wonders.

You used to swear you’d never like it, claiming it tasted like boot polish and the “Boys Club” wasn’t worth the indigestion it gave you.

“Someone from my other team,” you say by way of explanation.

You don’t ask for another whiskey. Laswell gets the rest of your drinks for that night.

Simon turns into the rec room two days later and finds you already there. There’s only the light above the sink on, and you’re staring at the steady drip, drip, drip from the faucet. A cup of black coffee cools in your hand. You’re already wearing gloves.

“Sugar’s in the left now,” he calls.

Your head twitches, something pops in your neck.

“Oh, thanks,” you chirp, turning for the cabinet. “Sleep okay, LT?”

“‘Bout as well as I ever do,” he replies gruffly, sidling up next to you for the kettle.

You hum. There’s a yellow packet in your hand. (Didn’t you used to like the blue one?)

“I get that,” you sympathize.

He snorts. Since when?

“Do you?”

When he glances down, you’re not looking at him. Instead, you’re trying (and failing) to get the sink to stop dripping.

“You know that’s been broken for ages,” he says.

At least as long as the 141 has been around. You tried to fix it once when you first joined up, too, with no luck.

“Right,” you say. A little too quickly, a little too agreeably. “Well, anyway, enjoy your tea, Lieutenant.”

You leave the packet of sugar behind. Unopened.

You’re back and it’s like it used to be - not just before you left, but before the breakup. Before there was ever anything to break up.

Your time away seems to have given you whatever space from Simon you were hoping for, because you act like there was never anything at all.

He’s half expecting, dreading, that you’ll pull him aside at some point. Ask for a word after dinner, or swing by his room before bed. Talk about the break up now that cooler heads prevail and 19 months have sanded down the rough feelings. Seek closure, maybe.

But you don’t. The weeks pass until a month has gone and you never exchange more than easy pleasantries with Simon. You give him space, give him privacy. Things you never used to give him much of before, for better or worse.

You fool around with Gaz and Johnny, trade quips with Price, and follow Simon’s orders. Train recruits. Write reports.

You’re back, better than ever.

So why does it feel like Simon’s still waiting for you to return?

You’re always dressed now, head to toe. Day or night, rain or shine. From the neck down you’re in full sleeves, long pants, boots and gloves.

It doesn’t occur to anyone until you’re sweating through your compression shirt in the gym. Wipe your shiny forehead for the dozenth time before Johnny says, “why not just take it off?”

“It’s not that bad,” you laugh, waving him off.

When you lie down to bench press, Simon notes the bottom of your shirt tucked tight into your waistband. He exchanges a glance with Johnny - he’s seen it too.

You used to dress in shorts and sports bras during exercise, a towel over your shoulder. In the common room, you’d mill in tank-tops and boxers. Even used to trot down the hall swaddled in a towel or robe, mumbling that you forgot a razor or some other toiletry before showering.

“What, did ye get an embarrassing tattoo or somethin’?” Johnny asks finally.

You blink at him, expression bemused. “A tattoo? Why do you think I have a tattoo?”

“Yer covered up like a nun on Sunday. It cannae be comfortable.”

You snort. “Just because you’re allergic to clothes, MacTavish…”

“Allergic?! Wha’s tha’ s’posed t’mean?!”

Gaz barks a laugh. You grin and continue your workout.

Simon tries not to be disturbed by the name “MacTavish” coming off your tongue for the first time since you met.

It’s your first mission since you’ve been back. You have new gear, a new handgun. Something’s been carved into the side of the barrel in Cyrillic, Simon can’t read it. A new callsign.

(“What kind of a name is Carry-on?” Johnny teases, but he doesn’t quite hide the unease in his eyes.

You snort and lace your boots tighter. The edge of you sleeve inches up, revealing the curve of a glossy scar that wasn’t there before.

“You’re one to talk Mister Maybelline.”)

Someone painted an upside down cross on the temple of your helmet with their finger. You thumb it before stuffing it over your head.

“You ready for this?” Gaz asks, knocking his knee into yours. The two of you have been paired together for this mission. (Was it Simon’s imagination, or did you look annoyed that you would have a partner?)

“Always,” you reply.

Simon doesn’t hear what happens, but Gaz looks shellshocked when you haul him into the helicopter during exfil. You shake him a bit once everything is secure and the bird’s in the air.

“Garrick,” you shout, “c’mon, where did he get you?”

It takes him a second but he blinks, offers his arm for your inspection. You move with a speed even Simon is impressed by, tearing into the nearby med kit almost viciously. Gaz is patched up in record time and you sit back with blood on your hands, barely even seem to notice as you wipe them carelessly on your pants.

(You used to be more squeamish, weren’t you? You used to be the last one they asked for medical care because seeing your teammates in pain made you nauseous.)

“What about you?” Gaz asks after a small eternity.

You yawn. “What about me?”

“You got nicked too, didn’t you?”

Simon takes a second look at you and now that Gaz mentions it, you’re soaked in blood. Wet patches on your vest, your pants, dripping down your boots. It takes him a moment to notice the tear in your thigh, shredded flesh visible when you rock with the wind turbulence.

“Did I?” you wonder, glancing down like you only just noticed it.

Johnny curses, reaches for you - but you wave him off.

“It’s just a scratch,” you reply. “Barely even feel it, no worries.”

Then why is it still bleeding?

When the team lands, you hop off the heli without so much as a wince. Droplets of blood lead all the way back to your room.

(When Simon asks Nikolai about the hand-etching on your gun, he says the word means “promise.”)

In the after-action report, your callsign isn’t “Carry-On.” It’s Carrion.

Laswell takes you off the mission two months later, a joint assignment with KorTac. They send three operators to work with TF141 - Stiletto, Konig, and Nikto.

On the transport to infil, Simon notices the Russian inspecting his handgun in a seat separated from the rest of the squad. He recognizes the Cyrillic carved into the barrel this time: Promise.

It’s an eerie, creeping suspicion. An anxious fog rolling in.

It’s not one single thing that trips an alarm in Simon’s head, but a steady collation of oddities over months. A single arhythmic beat, a note off key. Just once or twice, but over and over until he can’t notice anything else.

You act just like yourself except for all the minute ways you don’t.

You smile big and wide, sunshine bright, when they make a good joke. Your laugh is still the same, bubbling up in your throat, head thrown back. You smell the same when you pass Simon in the hall, shampoo and soap that’s haunted him for a year and a half.

It’s insidiously subtle; he can’t pinpoint what it is for the longest time. Your mannerisms are almost too practiced, the cadence of your voice too measured. A missing turn of phrase you often used, replaced by something unfamiliar.

Simon dismisses it as guilt-laden paranoia. The two of you ended on bad terms with a year and half worth of space between. He’s hardly one to gauge what’s normal for you anymore.

And besides, the few times someone else has noticed at those tiny yet all-too-obvious inconsistencies, you shrug it off as something you picked up while away.

But he catches Johnny’s brows furrow one afternoon as you light up a cig (after swearing for years that you’d never pick up the habit) and Simon knows he’s beginning to see it too.

“You ever notice,” Gaz begins slowly. You’re the only one missing from the rec room this evening, retired with a drawn-out yawn. “That Carrion always mentions being away, but never talks about it?”

Simon stills. Johnny’s eyes fly to Price, who’s grimly tapping at his crossword puzzle.

“The file’s redacted,” he says. He’s seen it too then, tried to investigate for himself.

“That’s normal for a mission like that,” Simon reasons carefully.

“I don’t mean the mission,” Price says. “I mean Carrion’s file.”

“This is a good movie,” you mumble from the armchair you’ve stolen from Price. “What’s it called?”

Simon exchanges glances with the rest of the team. No one points out that this is (used to be?) your favorite.

Price looks into the team you were loaned out to. All were KIA or remain MIA. All but one. His file has been scrubbed too, the only documents readable are discharge orders and a PMC contract, both associated with the callsign “Nikto.”

They’re running out of time.

Less than 36 hours on the clock with only one lead, and it’s a zealot with a suicide pact. Price and Laswell both took a crack at him with nothing to show for it. Even Ghost has gotten hardly anything and he’s running out of nails. With time, he might get something useful, but they don’t have much of that left.

In the anteroom looking into interrogation, you’ve been observing through the one-way glass with your hands in your pockets, head tilted, expression serene.

Price and Laswell are discussing strategy, contingencies. Gaz and Johnny are throwing in their two cents, but Simon… Simon is watching you.

Like medical, torture used to be your Achilles. You were trained like the rest of the team, but there was never any need for you to step into the room yourself. Hell, you were a last resort even for observation or emergency resuscitation. No one blamed you for having a weak stomach for information extraction.

But today, you glance over your shoulder and make eye contact with Laswell.

“I’ll handle it,” you say with an air of finality.

The room goes silent. Price opens his mouth, but it’s Laswell that speaks, voice hard with resignation.

“Do it.”

You don’t blink. “Yes, ma’am.”

You walk out the door without a backwards glance, shoulders loose but each step steady and purposeful.

“What the hell is going on, Kate?” Price demands.

Kate sighs, looks away as you enter the interrogation room.

“Let’s do this outside. It won’t take long to get that intel.”

The only thing she’s able to share is that you and your team were captured. For a long time. And then you’re already stepping out of the interrogation room, wiping your bloodied hands off on an old rag.

There’s an unusual glint in your eye, an unnatural stillness in your expression.

“Got what we need,” you announce cheerfully.

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #angst #reader came back Wrong #simon riley

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fingertipsmp3 · 2 years ago

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So all the shorts I ordered fit me well, but I assumed they wouldn’t so I have a train ticket booked to go into town tomorrow to buy shorts that I now don’t need. What do

#the thing about the town i’m going to is like. it kinda sucks #it was very much a casualty of the pandemic; like there’s a rumour that they’re closing the mall and turning it into a multiplex cinema #which honestly would probably be a better use of the space considering most of the shops there have closed and it’s pitiful #i think they’ve literally got like 3 clothes shops left; a couple of phone shops; one of those random kiosks selling scarves and bags #a paper shop and a bodycare. oh and the photo shop where i got my passport photos taken #like the bookstore closed; the big department store closed; the toy shop closed; hmv obviously closed; the outdoor shop closed……#i don’t even know if holland and barrett is still there. it looks like the end times #m&s is still going strong some-fucking-how but i still feel like i’m going to just end up in whsmith buying stationery i don’t need #i remember when the highlight of my year was getting to hit up whsmith for a new pencil case; writing utensils and a new journal #it was a simpler time :(#you know what i actually do miss? gamestation. i miss when you’d be able to buy used gba and ds games for literally like £2-5 #i think i bought every single one of my sims 2 expansion packs from there. good times #the nerd employees definitely thought i was stupid but i fully didn’t notice or care #i honestly feel like i’m just going to walk around marvelling at how everything is closed or deserted now; balking at prices #then have a depressing solo lunch in mcdonald’s and catch the train home asap. and tbh? i feel happy to have the option to do that #personal

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4unnyr0se · 5 months ago

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❥ OHMAMI | hajime iwaizumi

warnings: timeskip! iwaizumi, fem! reader, car sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, hickeys, degradation, manhandling, slight fingering, finger-sucking, riding, oikawa is mentioned a lot tbh, protective and possessive iwa

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 4.9k

a/n: okay i started this in early june and now im finishing it so im sorry if it doesnt make sense aaaa

❥ song: OHMAMI - chase atlantic

Iwaizumi was never the one people thought of when asked who their favorite member of the Aoba Johsai team was. He grew to accept it over time, albeit with spite and anger. Everyone was always wrapped up in what Oikawa was doing, wondering who would be his next girlfriend of the week. It was gross how Oikawa hogged all the girls; how could he be so selfish? Fucking jackass.

Naturally, it was a relief when he graduated. Sure, Aoba Johsai never went to nationals (and yes, it very much stung), but the memories were important, right? Hitting perfect spike after spike, smacking Oikawa around, hearing that glorious school cheer, Iwaizumi had to admit he would miss it. Not the part where Oikawa kept all the girls to himself.

Graduation came and went, and so did university. It was a breeze. Sports medicine was not a challenging major; he was just really good at the subject. Another graduation came, and Iwaizumi could only think about you and that pretty, perfect face. You were his closest friend in high school, and sadly, you drifted apart during university. You were studying Japanese literature or something, he didn’t remember. It’s not his fault; he was just too busy getting girls for the first time in a while. Totally not his fault…right?

Iwaizumi wasn’t doing himself any fucking favors, he thought about you too much for his own good. Whether Aoba Johsai lost or how insufferable Oikawa was, you were always there for him. You let him lean against your shoulder and complain about his day, his disheveled and messy uniform giving him an even more thuggish appearance. The way your soft, almost angelic hands massaged his scalp, assuring him that he would be okay. Oh, how he longed for your fingers in his spiky hair again. He had forgotten your scent, your sweet floral scent. Was it roses or lavender? Maybe lilac? Although all the girls in high school wore the same body sprays, yours was different. Was it because you were never scared of him to begin with? Fuck, he missed you.

He sat on the bench in the empty locker room of the gym he worked at, a hot towel draped around broad shoulders as he began to lose himself in his fond high school memories. Images danced around in his mind of your sweet face smiling at him for the first time, the words “Don’t worry, I’ll help you study for the English test!” leaving your soft lips. At least, Iwaizumi thought they were soft. No, he knew they were soft. God, you were so kind to him. You even ignored Oikawa’s advances towards you, which made him blush and gain so much respect for you in an instant. “Man, I’d really like to punch that guy in his dumb face.” you snickered, covering your bright smile. Iwaizumi swore he could marry you right then and there.

From that moment on, he was your closest friend. You went to all his practices and games, cheering for him when no one else would. “Nice kill, Iwa!” you would shout from the bleachers, proudly wearing a spare version of his jersey. His jersey. If Iwaizumi had no supporters, you were dead. The two of you were inseparable until university rolled around, and Iwaziumi became stupidly popular with the ladies. And sure, college girls were pretty and incredibly loose, but they weren’t you. No one was you, and he missed you every day.

Iwaizumi grunted as he stood up, tossing the towel into a basket. He stepped out of the locker room with his hands in his pockets, whistling a song from his cardio playlist. It was around ten at night, and his gym was one of the few open so late, so there wasn’t anyone there except the front receptionist girl who flirted with every guy who walked in. Truly, he couldn’t ask for better entertainment.

“Yo,” Iwaizumi leaned across the desk, stealing an electrolyte drink from the employee minifridge. There’s no one here; you should just go home. It’s getting late.” The cool drink touched his lips, the cherry flavoring subtle. “If the boss gives you any crap, you can blame me. I don’t mind.”

The receptionist eagerly stood up and practically ran out the door, throwing her time card at him. “Clock me out!” she shouted halfway out the automatic door. Iwaizumi sighed and shoved the time card in his sweats. She really was a ditz, but at least she got people to sign up for VIP memberships.

He clocked her out and went to his favorite spot in the gym where he usually deadlifts. Unfortunately, there was no one to spot him. Iwaizumi was a jock, but he certainly wasn’t dumb. There was no way he was dying because he got crushed by a fucking barbell. There is no chance in hell.

His rough and calloused hands decided just to lift weights instead. That was simpler, more safe. He flipped on his headphones and selected a tune from his more…sensual playlist. It's a sensual indie R&B song that could make anyone feel like a sex god. Why was that song on his playlist? He couldn’t tell you. Once again, Iwaizumi became lost in his thoughts as he lifted the weights up and down with such ease. He worked out for health benefits, but just something about staring at his physique in the mirror made it all worth it. Damn, did he look fine as hell. He was ashamed of how long it took him to realize that he was stupidly attractive, and it took a lot of skill not to develop a massive ego around his looks.

The automatic doors slid open, the dinging sound drowned out by his noise-canceling headphones. His green eyes locked on the floor mat below him, concentrating on passing the time by any means necessary. He paused briefly when he saw two tiny white sneakers enter his field of vision, standing considerably close to his muscular form. “Sorry about that,” he mumbled, placing the weights on the ground. “Music’s loud, y’know?” His eyes trailed upwards until they finally met your gaze, his pupils shrinking in shock. His hands gripped his headphones, softly filling the room with sensual music. “Holy shit.” Iwaizumi’s mouth was agape. He looked like a fool. “Uh, hi.”

“Hi, Iwa.” you smiled brightly, taking his headphones from his rough hands and placing them around his thick neck. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Three years, I think.” Fuck, he forgot how much smaller your hands were to his own. It’s so cute.

“Three years since university, yeah,” Iwaizumi mumbled, wiping the glistening sweat away from his forehead. “I can’t believe it’s been that long. You don’t look any different. Not that it’s a bad thing!” he stumbled on his words, silently cringing at his immature actions. He never got this flustered. He hasn’t been in a while. Less than a minute talking to you, and he was a stammering mess. This wasn’t like him at all. His tough persona might as well be tossed out the window.

You offered him another sweet smile and rubbed his shoulder, the sweat not bothering you in the slightest. “Change is a good thing, y’know,” your words were gentle and comforting, oozing with wisdom beyond your years. Another thing Iwaizumi thought was perfect about you was that you always knew the right thing to say. “You’ve changed too. You’re way more buff than the last time we saw each other!”

“Damn right,” he smirked, subtly flexing his biceps. Were you looking? He hoped so. “I’m a personal trainer, so I gotta stay in shape. Plus, I train Oikawa, so whenever I’m pissed off, I just do a couple sets.”

“You still hang out with Oikawa? I thought you hated him.” you raised an eyebrow, placing a hand on your hips quizically.

“I’m getting paid to tell him what workouts he should do. Can’t complain about that money,” Iwaizumi rubbed the back of his head, fluffing out his spiky hair. “Besides, I’m allowed to kick his ass whenever I want. That asshole deserves it. He somehow got even more cocky after he got back from Argentina.”

You rolled your eyes and found a nearby workout bench, crossing your legs over each other. “I didn’t think Loserkawa could become even more full of himself. You’d think being in a foreign country would humble him slightly.”

“Right?” a deep chuckle escaped his chapped lips as Iwaizumi sat beside you, minding the distance. He bit down on his lower lip slightly, just for a moment. Would you mind if he sat closer to you, like in high school? “He even started speaking Spanish, but he’s not allowed to do that around me.”

“Because you’ll throw a dumbbell at him?”

“Because I’ll throw a dumbbell at him.”

You giggled and scooted closer to Iwaizumi, the scent of sweat mixed with his cologne filling your nostrils. He smelled more mature than in high school, but that’s a given. “I see you’re still the same ol’ spikey-haired guy.” you ruffled his hair, knowing that you were the only one who could do that without getting a beatdown.

Iwaizumi blushed, averting his eyes from your gaze. Fuck, he really missed your touch. “So, uh, what brings you to the gym? Were you looking for a membership or something?”

You shook your head, casually wrapping your arm around his shoulder. Were you trying to kill him? “Nah. If I’m being honest, I saw you in one of the windows while I was out for an evening walk. It’s been a while, so I wanted to say hi.” You momentarily looked down at your shoes, a faint blush gracing your cheeks. “Besides, I missed you.”

“You walked here by yourself? At night? Are you crazy?” Iwaizumi shouted, grasping your shirt to pull you closer. “It’s not safe at night. You didn’t have anyone to protect you! Do you know how stupid that sounds?” his nostrils flared, a mixture of anxiety and rage overcoming him. “What if something happened?”

You gasped, your brow furrowing. “Well, excuse me! I didn’t know I needed permission from someone I haven’t spoken to in three years to take a fucking walk!” you ripped his hand away from your shirt.

Iwaizumi groaned, hanging his head. “You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just…” he took a deep breath. “It’s not safe for someone like you at night, and I’d never be able to forgive myself if something happened to you because you wanted to see me.”

You rolled your eyes and pulled his chin up, staring into his oceans of green. “Just because you’re worried about someone doesn’t give you an excuse to be an asshole about it,” you smiled in assurance. “Next time, I’ll bring something to defend myself. Okay?”

Iwaizumi smirked. “You’re the only person allowed to call me an asshole, y’know that? If you were anybody else, I’d beat your skull in.

“Then I’m lucky that I happen to still be Hajime Iwaizumi’s favorite person after all these years,” you bit down on your lower lip. “Unless…you have a girlfriend. Then she’s probably your favorite person.”

“No girlfriend, I don’t have the time,” he shook his head, moving himself closer. “I had a girlfriend before, but then-”

“Oikawa took her from you?” you cut him off.

“Fucking Oikawa took her from me. He dated her for two weeks, then dumped her for someone he met at a bar. Can you believe that?” he clenched his fist.

“Unfortunately, I can,” you gave an exasperated sigh. “I guess Oikawa will always be Oikawa.”

“God help us,” Iwaizumi chuckled. “Hey, I gotta lock up the gym. Can you wait outside, and then I can drive you home?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? I don’t wanna be a bother.”

“Why would you be a bother? I’m just keepin' you safe, dummy.” Iwaizumi assured you, getting up and brushing off his pants. “Wait here. I’ll come to get you. I don’t want you standing outside. There’s a lot creeps around here who want nothing more than to get close to a pretty girl like you.” he turned around, not realizing that he had just complimented you. You were left with a brighter blush on your face, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Did Iwaizumi think you were pretty after all this time?

Eventually, he finished what he needed to do to close up the gym: he wiped down all the machines and ensured everything was organized for the morning shift. He grabbed you by the wrist and practically dragged you out of the gym, having an unusually tight grip.

“Dude, what are you doing? I know how to walk,” you tugged your wrist away from his hand, rubbing it. “You’re acting weird. Did something happen when you were cleaning up? “I just don’t want you to stray too far, that’s all. Keep close to me, or else I might end up killing somebody.” he shoved his hands in the pockets of his sweats, making his way to the car. He was weirdly protective over you, but it only bothered you slightly.

Having your big, strong best friend wanting nothing more than to keep you safe in a parking lot was…well, it was sexy. Iwaizumi was sexy, and he knew it. You wondered if he knew that you thought so, too. How, when you were in high school, you would daydream about him pinning you against the wall and kissing you until you couldn’t breathe. How your mind would wander in college, staring at him from across the dining hall, watching as he unconsciously flexed his biceps in such a way that made you swoon every single time.

With his hand wrapped protectively over your shoulder, he clicked the keyfob and unlocked his car. It was a larger vehicle, boasting proud rims on the tires. “You can get in the passenger seat. I have snacks in the glove compartment if you’re hungry.”

“Since when do you have snacks in the car?” you sat in the passenger seat, buckling up. “That doesn’t seem very healthy, Mr. Personal Trainer.” you giggled, making air quotes.

He playfully rolled his eyes, getting into the driver's seat. “I have to drive long distances for work sometimes. So, to keep me sane, I keep little snacks in my glove compartment. Granola and crap like that. Protein bars.”

“Oh, so snacks that aren’t actually snacks?” you winked.

“Shut up,” he clicked his seatbelt in, revving the car. “Do you wanna choose what we listen to or not? Also, type your address into the GPS while at it.”

“Or I could look through your messages.”

Iwaizumi shot you a glare. “Don’t even joke about that.”

You giggled, typed in your address, and then opened Spotify. “You have a lot of playlists. Why?”

He shrugged his shoulders, flexing the muscles. Fuck, he was so fucking sexy. “I dunno, I guess I just have one for every occasion. When you’re working with Oikawa, music typically helps,” he smirked, raising an eyebrow. “You can pick from any song on any playlist.”

“Then I choose this one,” you selected OHMAMI, handing him back his phone. “It’s from your playlist that has a heart emoji as the title. What’s that for?”

Iwaizumi felt his face become overrun with a blazing blush. His hands gripped the steering wheel as he pulled out of his parking spot, turning the car towards the exit. “Oh, uh, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“But I wanna know!” you whined, crossing your arms over your chest. “C’mon, we just caught up a second ago, but you never kept any secrets from me.”

He sighed and bit down on his bottom lip. “Fuck, okay. Fine,” he took a deep breath. “It’s…this song is from my sex playlist. Specifically from college.”

Your pupils blew up, your hand immediately flying to your mouth to stifle a chuckle. “You have a sex playlist? And this is a song on it?”

“That’s what I just fucking said, didn’t I?” his face was red and anger and embarrassment. “See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you!”

“Iwa,” you tapped his thigh. “Sorry for laughing. It’s just that sex playlists are usually romantic and, no offense, but you never seemed like a romantic kind of guy.”

He furrowed his brow. “I can be romantic, “ he made a sharp left turn. “I just haven’t had a reason to in a while, that’s all.”

“Aw, I’m sorry, man,” you pouted. “I’m sure someone will come along that can make you want to use this playlist again.” you smiled at him, flashing your teeth.

“Yeah, hopefully,” Iwaizumi sighed, stealing a glance at you. You were perfect, absolutely perfect. He was mentally kicking himself for not making a move. But then again, there was a sexy song playing, so the mood was set. Maybe you wouldn’t mind if his hand squeezed your thigh, dancing lower and lower. Maybe you wouldn’t mind at all.

He continued to drive, the music from the stereo being the only thing to prevent the car from being silent. His mind wandered places: obscene, filthy places. He wondered what noises you would make if he ate your pussy out in the passenger seat. Would you taste as sweet as he imagined? Iwaizumi just knew your pussy was tight, how it would flutter around his cock as he bounced you up and down on it in the backseat, your hand flat against the roof of his car with the music blaring. He was so deep in thought that he neglected to realize the tent growing in his sweats. But you noticed.

Your eyes darted back and forth to his hard-on, squeezing your legs together at the sight. You suspected he was hiding a monster down there, and now you were sure of it. Surprisingly, Iwaizumi never got hard around you before today, at least not to your knowledge. It was like it was calling you to, desperate for your hands to slide up and down.

“Uh, Iwa?” you groaned, crossing your legs over each other.

“Hm?” he didn’t take his eyes off the road.

“You have like…a huge boner right now.” you blushed furiously, cringing to yourself. Could you have chosen a more awkward set of words?

Iwaizumi choked on his breath, swerving the car slightly. He glanced down at his sweats, and lo and behold, he was hard. “O-Oh, fuck. Shit, that wasn’t supposed to happen.” he groaned, clenching onto the steering wheel once more.

You squirmed in your seat. “Hey man, don’t worry about it. You can’t control when you get hard, right? S’not a problem.”

He thought for a moment, mumbling under his breath. He canceled the navigation and pulled the car into a parking lot by an abandoned gas station frequented by local teenagers. Luckily, there was no one there right now. “I can’t,” he breathed in, refusing to meet your gaze. “I can’t control it when I’m around you,” he parked the car. “You drive me so fucking crazy.”

You squeezed onto the leather seats, your face still blazing red. “You’re telling me that I made your dick hard?”

“Yeah, that’s what I just fucking said.” he groaned, unclicking his seatbelt. His eyes finally met yours, full of want. “You made me hard, princess.”

Princess. The nickname rang in your ears. Fuck, it was like hot honey rolling off his chapped lips. “Iwa…” you breathed out, gasping as he tugged on the collar of your shirt, pulling you closer to him. The center console was the only thing that separated you two.

“Princess,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted you for so fucking long. Ever since you said, you wanted to punch Shittykawa in the face.”

“Really?”

“Really.” his eyes landed on your lips, beautiful and begging to be kissed. “I’ve wanted you for so fucking long. Please,” his hot breath grazed your cheek. “Please tell me that you want me to. But I’m warning you right now,” he kissed your burning skin. “Once you tell me you do, I won’t hold myself back anymore.”

A sensation began to bubble inside your belly, his words causing your core to throb with want. You parted your lips, wetting them with your tongue. “Iwa,” your voice was barely a whisper. “Please, I want you.”

Iwaizumi let go of your shirt, his eyes flaring with passion and lust. “Get in the backseat, now.” he growled, climbing over the center console. You eagerly followed him, finding a spot on his lap. His hands secured themselves on the fat of your hips, making sure you didn’t go anywhere. It's not like you wanted to, anyway.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so fucking long, princess,” he groaned before slamming his lips against yours in a frenzy. His lips assaulted yours, greedy and shameless. Your mind became TV static, your lips dancing with his as if it was a reflex, as if you had done this a million times before. You moaned into the kiss as he groped you without a care, his hands slipping under the hem of your gym shorts. You gasped as his warm hands wandered, exploring you as if he was attempting to map out your perfect curves.

His hand was scolding hot as it ventured to finger the elastic, ripping the cheap fabric. He swallowed your surprised gasp, smirking into the kiss. “Fuckin’ cheap fabric,” he growled, his hand massaging up and down your panties. “I’ll buy you a new pair, don’t worry, your pretty lil’ head about it.”

Iwaizumi broke the kiss, resting his head in the crook of your neck while his fingers continued their gentle dance across your clothed, dripping cunt. The digits ran up and down the soaked material, causing him to shudder. “Fuck, you’re this wet from just a kiss?” he groaned against your neck, the sharpness of his canines grazing the sensitive skin. He could have sworn he could hear your heartbeat coming from the veins. Your pulse was thundering, it was fucking addictive. His lips ventured up and down your delicate neck, leaving wanting, open-mouthed kisses in the spots that made you squirm so beautifully on your lap. His teeth nibbled down on your sweet spot, causing your hips to buck into his hard-on.

“Needy fucking girl,” his voice rumbled, fingers dipping into your panties to toy with your sobbing slit. You whimpered, resting your forehead onto his own as the calloused pads of his thick fingers teased your clit. “Fuck, you’re soaked. D’ya even need me to finger this pussy, or are you such a fucking slut that you’re this wet all the time?” his hands cracked against your ass. “Hm? Talk to me, princess.”

“Only you!” you yelped. Iwaizumi chuckled darkly, lifting his head from your neck to greet you with a blown-out stare. His eyes told you everything you needed to know; they told you that he wanted to fucking ruin you on his cock like he’s been wanting to all these years.

“That’s what I like to fucking hear,” he slapped your ass again, making you gasp and jolt. His lips quickly met yours once more as his finger bullied its way inside your cunt, curling inside without mercy or forgiveness. “Shit, you’re squeezing around my finger. Do you really need to get fucked that fucking bad, hm? Is my girl a little slut?”

“M’not a slut!” you sobbed, tossing your head back. Your hands gripped his muscular shoulders with white-hot-knuckle strength, making Iwaizumi hiss in pain. Not that he was complaining. He fucking loved it.

“Fuck, I can’t take this anymore,” he pulled his finger out of your weeping cunt, licking off your slick. “Ya taste so fucking good, shit,” he groaned, sliding off his sweatpants and boxers so that his cock could spring free. You moaned at the sight, taking in his magnificent length. He was small by no means necessary, boasting a lengthy and girthy cock with an angry red tip that was leaking precum. “Turn around and hover above it.”

You did as he instructed, pushing your ruined panties to the side so your pulsating core was just above his angry cock. His hands snaked around the small of your waist, pulling your flush up against his chest. “You’re gonna be a good fucking slut and let me fuck you on this cock, yeah? If I think you’re being too quiet for even a second,” his voice dropped to a deadly whisper. “I’m gonna fuck you stupid.”

“Iwa,” your words died on your tongue as his fingers were abruptly shoved into your mouth, making you gag.

“Don’t fucking call me Iwa,” he demanded, his cock teasing your entrance. “It’s Hajime now. Don’t be a dumbass and forget it when I’m breaking you on this cock. Am I clear, pretty girl?”

You nodded, tears swelling in your eyes. His fingers slid out of your mouth and back onto your hips, squeezing the fat. “Be a good little slut and take this cock,” he growled, biting down harshly onto your neck before slamming you onto his cock without mercy, refusing to give your tight pussy anytime to adjust.

“Oh god, yes,” Iwaizumi moaned against your neck, bouncing you expertly on his length. His eyes were hooded with lust and desire as he looked over your shoulder. The sight of your pussy swallowing his cock was magnificent. Especially how you struggled to take his length, you poor thing. Maybe he’ll be nicer to you next time. “Do you see yourself, princess? That pretty pussy is swallowing me whole. Good fucking girl.”

You writhed and squirmed on his lap, helpless as Iwaizumi used you like a toy. His hands reached around to pull down your top, exposing your bralette to the hot atmosphere. He pulled your bra down as well, shamelessly pinching and squeezing your pillowy mounds as his cock drove itself inside you with reckless abandon.

“Y’been hiding these perfect tits from me too? Naughty fucking girl,” his hand dropped your breast and smacked your clit, earning a shriek from your bruised lips. “Can’t believe I waited this fucking long to grope these tits, fuck. I wonder what else you’re hiding, hm?” his hips never relented, continuing their rushed and desperate pace in harsh and fast strokes.

“You look like such a slut right now. God, I wish I could see that pretty face,” he purred against the shell of your ear, licking the cartilage. His praise was so fucking addictive, making you shamelessly clench on his cock. “Oh, y’like when I call you pretty? Get fucking used to it.”

“I’m gonna make you ruin yourself on me,” his voice rasped, the tip of his cock twitching inside of you. “You’re gonna cum all over this fucking cock, and then I’ll cum inside, yeah? No one’s ever gonna fuck this pretty cunt again unless I say so. Until your Hajime says so, okay, princess?” he smacked your clit again, gathering your slick on his fingers. “Who’s the only one that can fuck this pretty pussy?”

“You! It’s yours, Hajime!” you sobbed, the rest of your meaningless rambling dying on your lips as he shoved his fingers inside your mouth once more. Your tongue wrapped around the digits, tasting your delicious slick. Your pussy fluttered around his cock, trying to pull him impossibly deeper inside of you. You were so fucking greedy.

Iwaizumi snarled against your neck, fucking you even harder. His hips continued to snap as he drove himself deeper and deeper inside, the sensation of your pussy doing its best to milk him being all that he needed. “You’re gonna fucking cum, yeah? That’s it, princes, make a fucking mess on me. Get your Hajime all sticky with your cum like a good fucking girl.”

With Iwaizumi’s encouragement, you finally let go. You came with a wanton sob, the bubbles in your belly boiling over to send you crashing over the edge and into oblivion. You could have sworn you saw white. Iwaizumi fucked you through it, whispering sweet nothings as your release coated his cock.

“Oh, shit,” he groaned into your neck, biting down once more on the bruised skin as his cock twitched one final time, his release spilling inside to fill your cunt up so nicely. “Good fucking girl, take it all.” his hands fell to his hips, slumping against the leather seat.

“Hajime,” you groaned, reluctantly pulling yourself off his cock. His cum ran down your ruined thighs, mixing with your slick. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to do that.” you offered him a weak smile, staring at your ripped and forgotten-about jean shorts. “Dammit, you ripped them! These were my favorite pair. And now I don’t have any pants!” you scolded him, hitting him over the head with the fabric. “We’re in a parking lot, and I have no damn pants!”

“Relax,” he sighed, pulling up his pants and boxers. “Did you forget I was driving you home? Besides,” he pecked your lips. “I’m coming over, and we’re gonna cuddle and shit. Whatever you want.” he blushed, not meeting your gaze. He was still scared of you seeing him blush even after you were so intimate.

“Whatever I want?” you teased. “You’re cute when you get all flustered, Hajime.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

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