#haikyuu x crying reader

[kokokoula]

here's a thought:

tsukishima kei is mean. he complains that you talk too much, laughs when you flunk your tests, and insists that you're clingy. others wonder why you're even with him.

but they don't know that when he tsks at your rambling, he shifts one side of his headphones away to hear your voice. they don't know that even though he teases you for your low test scores, he would stay up late at night just to tutor you till you'd get it right. they don't know that after rolling his eyes at your affection, he places a chaste kiss on your forehead and hides his red face in your hair.

so when they say you deserve better, you laugh at their cluelessness and state with a smile, "he's more than everything i could ever want." and he falls in love with you all over again.

[215-luv]

sakusa kiyoomi almost knocks off the keys on the table near the front door as he enters your shared apartment in the middle of the night. he barely has any energy left to properly drop his things down on the floor as he could feel a migraine coming in soon if not long.

the apartment is quiet and dark. the lights that were left open were the ones in the kitchen. however, he doesn’t see any signs of you. nor does he hear your voice, and he takes it as a sign that you’re probably asleep in your shared bedroom. it signals him to silently make his way through the short hallway, leading to your bedroom where the door was left ajar.

when sakusa does reach the door, he doesn’t make his way inside first. what he does is he makes an effort to slowly and quietly peak against the small space so he could see you. it was dark. and yet he sees you. the light from the kitchen cascades through the small opening, shining a dull but visible light over you that it allows him to see your figure that’s peacefully lying on bed. and god, the sight leaves him breathless. you’re like a goddess. you’re too beautiful to look at. you look so peaceful—so lovely that he’s sure he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he accidentally wakes you up from your slumber.

“omi?”

and oh shit! his heart nearly leaps out from his chest. your tired and timid voice reaches like music to his ears. just why are you so addicting? but wait. you’re awake? did he just wake you up? oh, he’ll be damned! despite the butterflies in his stomach, it has practically been dominated by the disappointment crashing over him right now.

it was a laughable matter actually. from your perspective, you see a huge, six footer man with handsome features slowly opening the door of your bedroom to let himself in. what’s adorable is that this man of yours has an obvious pout cascading over his features. he couldn’t look at you. his eyes were shooting down to the ground as he makes himself as small as possible infront of you.

you chuckle, “tired day?”

sakusa clears his throat. “yeah. go back to sleep. i’m sorry for disrupting you—i mean, your sleep.”

“hey, it’s okay.” you smile as your cheek is smushed against the pillow. “i’m glad i woke up. i got to see you today.”

sakusa scratches the back of his head. “i-is that so?”

“yeah.” you reply, “you went to practice too early. i woke up without you in bed. i wouldn’t want to end the day without seeing you either, omi.”

it was only ‘till then your words sends him to a state of shock. it almost feels like a wake up call or a hit on the head by a bat (if not a volleyball). you don’t know if you broke him or not, but sakusa stood by the side of the bed, unable to move, as if he’s in a trance.

“you.. w-what..?”

he’s so caught off guard that it lets out a chuckle out of you. he’s so adorable. your boyfriend.

“you heard me.” you say, letting out a sleepy smile that bursts the butterflies in sakusa’s stomach.

and he just couldn’t believe it. about four years earlier, sakusa couldn’t see himself ever loving someone, nor having someone to love him back. four years earlier, he was just a highschool student who strived nothing else but to dedicate his life to volleyball.

but then again, who knew things could change drastically in the future?

because four years later, at a late evening, he realizes that he’s looking at the only person who he wants to dedicate his whole life to.

that only person being you.

[lynketa]

WHAT THE FUCK, BRAZIL HINATA WAS ALREADY HINTED AT S1 ANIME???

(for reference the s1 ep7 released on May 18 2014 - Manga brazil! Hinata released on November 2nd, 2019)

What gets me the most is when Takeda says "or maybe on the other side of the Earth" AND THE MANGA TITLE OF CH 371 IS "On the other side of the World" THE VERY SAME CHAPTER BRAZIL! HINATA WAS INTRODUCED.

[liillyliilly]

Halo

oikawa tooru x reader words; 10249 synopsis; He'd always been in love with her, it just took her a long time to feel the same.

When Oikawa was sixteen, she was eighteen.

“I swear you have a halo, just look at the way the sun curls itself around the edges of your hair. You have a halo around you.” She sat next to Oikawa and used her hands to create an imitation of a camera or frame that focused on how the sun backlit Oikawa.

The greenery of the hill they were pausing at, resting from a walk, was vibrant. The breeze filtered through the blades of grass and made a scent of earth linger around them. A setting sun was the backdrop of their conversation, she used it to flatter him.

He was so annoyed with her when she did that, his ambition was overwhelming for those around him but it never scared her off from him.

He wonders when that would change. It was a thought that remained; when would he cross a line and she would view his hunger as repulsive instead of laudable?

Oikawa scoffs, “You may think I’m an angel, but in reality, I’m just a drop in the ocean. Nothing special. One amongst many.”

“But just being counted among those many is still special. If the ocean didn’t have millions of small drops contributing and doing their part it wouldn’t exist in the first place.”

He bites his tongue. His deflections never worked on her.

She was older than him by two years, and she was best friends with his older sister. Oikawa also claimed her as a best friend.

Despite her being the younger of the duo, she was an outstanding example of poise and maturity in contrast to his older sister who was more like him, rash and immature. Oikawa could care less for his older sister’s other friends, but he loved it when she would come around. She could turn any moment into something special and memorable for him.

The halo moment with her happened when he started high school, while she was beginning the end of her journey in high school as a third-year student. His sister had already moved out and was living with her fiance.

While it was annoying that the older Oikawa sibling had asked her to watch over him, he didn’t mind her walking him to school in the mornings and her waiting at his volleyball practices to take him back home. She would always do homework or sit outside the gym and read with her headphones on.

“Let’s keep going, your mom is making katsu curry tonight.” She brushes off some grass from her school uniform, reaching out a hand for Oikawa to take so she can pull him up from the ground. He did have a halo in her eyes.

He tugs her back down, so she’s almost in his lap, “Ten more minutes.”

He likes it when she’s close to him. He’s sixteen, but he hopes that she could see beyond that. He hopes she doesn’t make this year the year she gets a boyfriend. She’s gone on dates with younger guys before, albeit, only one year younger than her. Maybe she’d make an exception for a two-year gap.

She takes her hand back from him and shoves him playfully. “You have five minutes and then we need to go.” He nods his head, staring at the mountain range that sits nearby.

She sighed, and laid back onto the ground, hands behind her head and legs crossed over each other. Her eyes were closed and she was soaking in the way the air cooled down slowly but surely as each second passed and night overtook day.

Oikawa tilted his head, resting his temple against folded arms that were lying on his knees that he had pulled up close to his chest. He just watched her.

When he was seven, she was nine. He’d felt ill when he heard that she’d be going camping instead of coming over to his house to spend time with his sister for an entire week. Just the thought of her being gone was agonizing.

That’s why during family dinner he declares a plan.

“I’m going to ask her to run away with me. It’s the only solution.” His face is covered in food and his mouth is full of mashed potatoes.

The older sister spits out her apple juice and laughs loudly. The mom chuckles from behind her napkin. She reaches over and touches Oikawa’s arm, “Honey, she’ll be gone for a week, and then back to keep playing for the rest of the summer break.”

Oikawa drags his hand down his face and complains. “That’s too long.”

His sister perks up and starts picking a fight with him, “You just want her not to leave so you can keep staring at her when she comes over here.” She makes a kissing face and puts her hands on her cheeks.

He turns red, calling for his mom to see what his sister is doing to him. Oikawa’s mom spent most of that week counting down the days until the soothing presence of a nine-year-old girl returned from camping in the woods.

Oikawa had spiraled down to the depths of volleyball sooner rather than later.

If he wanted to be the best, then he’d need to work harder than everyone else. Hours poured into practice, studying, focusing his lens on only volleyball.

In his second year of high school, he sustained a knee injury. He bottled it in. For a sport that was meant to be so much fun, he was in agony over his incapabilities at that moment. You play a sport for fun, you enjoy something for the love of it. If that was the case then why did he feel so utterly destroyed?

It wouldn’t be a problem, but when his mom took him to the doctor, the doctor said it was a stress fracture. He’d been playing too intensively for too long and would need a few months of recovery if he wanted to play the rest of the season. The antiseptic environment struck him as unloving. Medicine never understood the reality of sports, the deep driving passion that wasn’t bound by science.

Even if he couldn’t do serves or jumps, he could still run. He could still stay up late watching games of his opponents. He could still linger around practices and work on his tosses. He broke some rules and did receiving practices as well. But he made sure to take Mondays off, he only did low-intensive workouts on Mondays, long walks, and extensive stretching.

Maybe it was his fault for being addicted to volleyball.

His mom called her over one night when he refused to respond to his mom’s requests for him to go to sleep. She was at college now, her first year. She enjoyed what she was studying, and she liked that she had freedom. There was still a sense of responsibility for Oikawa Tooru that she carried.

Her best friend was married now and had given birth to Takeru who was growing up faster than expected.

When she got the call asking if there was anything she could do or say to get Oikawa out of his funk, she drove over and told the worried mom to go to bed, and that she could handle it.

Could she handle him, could she mitigate the tension in his soul? She knew that Oikawa loved volleyball and that his injury had made him bitter. When his actions began to worry others though, she drew a line there. Nothing was worth the hurt of worrying.

She knocked on his door, but he didn’t respond. She opened the door, and saw him at his desk, pen in hand taking notes of a volleyball video. It was of him playing against a rival school, each time he saw something he didn’t like he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and gritted his teeth.

She picked up his desk clock. Lightly beginning her approach to tell him to back down from his focus, “You never seem to look at the clock anymore, it’s nearly two in the morning. Tooru, you’re going to make yourself sick with all the time you spend watching those videos.” She tried to get him to look at the timekeeper in her hand. He pushed it away and she set it back on the counter.

The prodding she performed struck a cord in him.

“I can’t practice? I can’t analyze games? Do you want me to be a bad volleyball player?” Oikawa set the pen down, rubbing his eyes which felt dry and strained. The words he intended to come out as inquisitive came out accusingly instead.

“That’s not what I’m saying at all. You need to incorporate more moderation into your life. This obsessive hyperfixation on the gap between your dreams and current reality is driving you to the brink.” She rubbed a hand on his shoulder, trying to lull him away from the desk and towards his bed.

There was no use in focusing so intensely on the gaps between desire and truth. She thought he would see reason. She wanted him to understand that he needed to recover more fully before diving back into volleyball. There was nothing more important to her than helping him find out that life isn’t built upon strenuous achievement to get to the end, because the goal line was always being moved. How could Oikawa expect to get anything accomplished if the footing he was gaining would keep changing?

Oikawa slinks away, pulling his chair closer to the desk, and his face closer to the screen, “It’s the dreamer and reality face-off. And I’m losing. I’m losing and you can’t see it.”

She leans over and shuts his laptop, he spins around to her with a scowl. She puts her hands on each of the arms on his chair, boxing him in with her surrounding him from all sides.

“You are losing. You’re losing yourself. Tooru, you’re losing because you aren’t taking a step back to enjoy life right now. You think you’re losing, but no one else is playing this game with you.” She moves a hand and points to his bed, “Get out of this chair and go to bed, you dumbass.”

He feels bad that she’s here instead of in her bed sleeping. Her hair was messy and riddled with tiredness, her clothes were pajamas with a jacket over the top.

She was wearing the sandals that she got during a trip his family had taken that she went along with. When she was busy splashing around in the ocean with his big sister, he sat on a towel watching the way the water made her glow from the sun’s reflection on her skin. If only he’d gotten in the water instead of playing by himself and tossing volleyballs into the air, trying to reach the sunlight from his place in the sand.

He mumbles an agreement to her request, going to his bathroom to brush his teeth while she watches from the doorframe.

Clambering into his bed, Oikawa wraps himself in his blankets and ignores the way his body tenses up at first, but slowly eases into laying down on his bed.

There wasn’t a move from her to leave his room quite yet, but she was yawning. When she made a step forward, she stumbled a little.

He leaned up and spoke, “Can you even drive?”

Swallowing, she replies, “I’ll probably just sleep in my car, I thought I wasn’t that tired when I drove over here.” Another yawn she tries to muffle is released.

Oikawa grabs a pillow that was wedged in between his bed and the wall that it was against. He moves closer to the wall, trying to make room for her.

“Just stay.” With me.

She purses her lips. He’s still a child. He may be seventeen but he’s a child and he doesn’t know what he wants, that was her thought process. She was nineteen, she had to be the realistic one, a girl who didn’t give any kind of fake chance or inclination that would reciprocate feelings.

“I’ll see you later, Tooru. Don’t cause any more problems for your mom.”

She leaves, and he’s sitting up in his bed, hands curled up in his sheets, watching her leave.

It’s almost like she’s always the one to leave, she’s the one who puts the distance that he despises. He feels reduced to a kid. Like he’s a child that needs to be coddled and watched over. Although, he supposes his behavior did warrant a need for a babysitter.

When he was fourteen, she was sixteen. Blossoming into a young woman might have gone under the radar when it was his sister, but when it was her, he couldn’t think of anything else.

How could he think of anything else when she was right there sitting on the sidewalk making chalk drawings in a tank top and shorts? Her thighs had streaks of blue over them, and the legs of her shorts had handprints from where she rubbed off the excess chalk dust.

“Oi, Tooru! Come look at this!” She waved her hand so he’d move from his place on the porch to where she was sitting on the pavement. That’s when he noticed she’d accidentally gotten chalk handprints on the sides of her chest, standing out against the black spaghetti strap tank top. After he saw the chalk marks, naturally his eyes scanned the rest of her chest.

He almost chokes on his saliva, sticking his feet onto the panels of the front porch. “I, um, I’m good right where I am actually.” Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead and he silently prayed that his body would relax instead of shooting hot rushing blood through his body. He leaned back into the bench, trying to sink into it.

His sister knew better than that though, “Oh really? But she really wants you.” His sister had to have been pure evil, “She wants you to come over.” The slight pause between ‘come’ and ‘over’ went unnoticed by her but Oikawa hung onto the words like monkey bars.

“No, I’m sure I’m good.” He lets out a blase whistle, trying to think of anything but her body.

She throws him a thumbs up, “Sounds good.” When she goes back to drawing, her best friend leans into her ear. The laugh Oikawa’s sister lets out shocks his focus back to the pair of them.

Her eyes were darting anywhere but him and she was using a hand to slightly cover her face, using her other hand to bring the front of her top up a little more. He could’ve passed away from mortification right then and there.

When the pair of friends finally came back into the house, and Oikawa was playing video games with Iwaizumi who had come over, his ears were burning. She leaned into the living room to see what game they were playing, giving her input on the game, “Mario Kart is the best.” Her little chuckles at the way Iwaizumi was goading Oikawa had him addicted.

She laughed when Oikawa spun out of the track from spending just a little too much time looking at her rather than the screen.

Iwaizumi had left the house after an hour or so, and Oikawa’s sister was taking her turn in the tub. She was staying the night for a sleepover, waiting in the living room. Oikawa had forgotten to clean up the controllers so his mom told him to go clean up the TV area, only to be faced with her playing on her flip phone in the center of the couch.

He tried to pivot to avoid any more embarrassing exchanges between the two of them, but she told him to freeze where he was.

“Sit down.” She patted the space next to her.

Sitting down, he attempted to leave a huge canyon width of space.

She cleared her throat, “It’s okay that you think I’m attractive. Don’t be ashamed at all, it's perfectly fine and natural. As much as your sister does tease you, don’t let it make you feel gross or anything.”

He covered his face with his hands and groaned a little. The fact that they were even having this conversation made him want to go back in time and tell his parents to never have kids.

“You’re cute.” She ruffled his hair.

He blinked a few times and felt confidence flood in. “You think I’m cute?”

“Sure, you got pretty eyes and your hair is always super soft.” She crossed her legs, still messing with his hair as he slowly reclined on the couch.

Oikawa figures he’d been teased enough for one day, so it wouldn’t hurt to be just a little flirty back. “I think you should always have your hands in my hair. Feels like heaven.”

Her laughs run around his head before settling into his heart. “I’ll see what I can do about that then.”

“Great, that way I don’t have to ask you. You can just see me and know I want you to run your hands through my soft hair by default.” He wiggled his head a little from side to side, amplifying his attempt at charisma.

She just smiled at him in response.

Repressed feelings and self-loathing were most likely why his next fit was so soon after she had first pried him away from his screen during his second year. It was now nearing the end of his second year, and his injury had mostly recovered, it would never be the same knee, but it would function close to regularly again.

Much too late at night, once again, she’s knocking on his bedroom door, and he’s watching volleyball. Her voice is scratchy from a concert she attended the day before, with some guy who liked the same music as her. Oikawa never understood why people would want to date those who had the same music tastes. Maybe it was because he didn’t care all that much for music.

Iwaizumi was a music lover, and Oikawa just listened to whatever Iwaizumi played. Oikawa liked her music though. It was usually the sad kind of piano music. Her other favorite type of music was the kind of music that screams out into the universe and declares, no, demands, a presence.

She sounded scared. “Tooru. Open the door. I can hear your counterclock ticking. I’m listening to the ticking of the clock and I can’t hear you at all.” She wonders if he had escaped out the window to make stupid and rash teenage mistakes.

He sighed deeply, hoping she would hear that. She does. Oikawa had failed to make it to Nationals yet again, he had spent too much time this year working for his team to make it.

Ushijima had gone up to him and told him that Oikawa would have a better chance at making it further if he’d joined a different school. Ushijima knew nothing. Oikawa knew he was a good player, but why did every attempt to advance become reduced to another failure? Oikawa wanted to win with his team, with Iwaizumi, Takahiro, and Matsukawa. They were his team and Oikawa wanted to provide them an opportunity unlike any other.

It was an insult that Ushijima presented. The conditional offer to conceptualize the fact that Oikawa was not enough to bring his team through the games to a victory. That he couldn’t magically make a chance for them to fight on the main stage at Nationals. Ushijima had essentially told Oikawa that Oikawa was a talentless, worthless player, and if he wanted to win then he would’ve needed to join a team that could win with or without him. Oikawa was an inconsequential factor in the game of volleyball.

At least, that was how Oikawa interpreted the discussion with Ushijima after the tournament.

He’d have to work harder, he reasoned.

The door isn’t locked, so she finally enters. It isn’t quite as late as midnight, but it’s dark outside and the shadows slink into his room through the window. The moon casts a light in the center of his room.

He’s not sure if he’s crying or not. He’s cross-legged on his bed.

“Hey.” She scrutinizes his face, she can’t determine if she sees tears or if it's just the reminiscence of fear on his face. He makes a noise of acknowledgment. She sits on the corner of his bed.

He pours out his thoughts. The conversation with Ushijima, the way he feels his team looked at him, the way he hated his knee for being a physical reminder of his lack of talent.

She puts a hand on his face, guiding him to look at her.

“Do I see tears? Or is it just that the fear dwelling within you is making an annoying appearance again?” He shakes his head and uses his hand to wipe away at his face in case there are tears. Her thumb traces the bridge of his nose.

Anyone could tell that he seemed scared. But it was a deeper worry than just scared, it was a deep-rooted fear of lacking the abilities to be a good volleyball player. The ego he held close to his lungs was shattering and leaving shards, affecting his breathing.

He knew his internal locus of control wasn’t enough. He wanted to control more than was within his ability. Oikawa wanted the world on his shoulders, but he could barely balance it with open hands.

His chest starts to heave again, and his bottom lip wavers. She tries to shush him, but he lets out a strangled sob. Pulling him into her, she runs a hand on his head, soothing him by running her hand through his hair. She just keeps saying his name, pressing light kisses to the top of his head. The front of her shirt was covered in wet spots from how he had his face in her neck.

Shakily, he brings her into his lap, wraps his arms around her, and hugs her tightly.

“I’m sorry.” He kisses her with his whole heart, bumping their noses into each other. He kisses with too much force, but it conveys all the feelings he has. Love, pain, turmoil, affection.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He leans in again, but she puts a hand on his chest, putting space between them.

Patting his head, she tells him that she has to go back home. She thought that he just needed to get the kiss out of his system and that it didn’t mean anything.

When she pulls out of the driveway he yells into his pillow. His mom comes into his room and sees him hugging himself. Oikawa’s mom decides to leave well enough alone. She had only come to check on him again because Oikawa’s mom had asked, but it was all dependent on Oikawa and how he took what she said or did.

They never talk about the kiss in person. Oikawa thinks about it every day. It crosses her mind frequently enough to warrant a quick rant to Oikawa’s sister, replacing Oikawa with a differently named seventeen-year-old boy who used her as an emotional crutch.

In response to the rant, Oikawa’s sister had told her to let the boy off gently and to ghost him.

How could she ghost Oikawa Tooru though? Especially when he texted her and kept saying he was sorry for what he did and that all he wants is for them to be friends again.

She devours her pride and accepts his offer. They could be friends. Oikawa didn’t want just friendliness, he wanted love. He wanted her love.

When he was fifteen, she was seventeen. A third year in middle school, Oikawa had settled into the personality that he crafted. He wanted to be everything that a girl would like, charming, suave, and flippant. He wanted to be everything he thought she would like.

If it wasn’t for that annoying first-year genius, then Oikawa definitely would have had a chance to see if he could finally have a shot with her. Not necessarily ready to date her, but sensing if he at least was on a roster list for her.

She came to most of the games if she wasn’t busy with her part-time job or with schoolwork. He recalls how he had tossed her one of his backup Kitagawa Daiichi jerseys, with the captain’s mark and a shining number one on the front and back. He told her that if she was going to come to the games, she might as well show off who she was going to watch play.

She had said that the jersey would make it seem like she attended the junior high instead of her actual high school, he shrugged and said it didn’t matter. But each game that she went to, her wearing that jersey demonstrated how much it did matter to him. Beaming at her when he finally caught her eyes in the stands.

Oftentimes, Oikawa’s mom needed her to pick up Oikawa after practice since his older sister was out with her boyfriend. She didn’t mind going to Kitagawa Daiichi to pick him up since she liked the route to drive there. Covered in trees and a smooth straight road where she could go just a little over the speed limit and no cops cared enough to make her slow down.

Waiting at the entrance, she saw Oikawa cleaning up the gym. A black-haired boy had turned the corner and bumped into her.

“Ah, sorry.” He stood awkwardly like there was a ruler against his back preventing him from slouching at all.

“It’s all good!” She noticed his uniform, “You’re on this team aren’t you? What position are you?”

“I’m a setter.” Instinctively, the boy tries out a smile, it doesn’t look quite legitimate, but she dismisses the strangeness of it. He gives her his name, Kageyama Tobio. He questions her, “Who are you?”

She explains her relationship to Oikawa, being his older sister’s best friend. “Although, I’m another sister to him at this point.”

“A sister?” Kageyama makes a slightly bitter face, “You’re not blood-related though right?”

“No, no, just friends. But I’ve known him since he was in diapers.”

“Ahh, that’s why he was talking to Iwaizumi-san about what to get you for White Day.”

Furrowing an eyebrow, she thinks out loud, “I didn’t get him anything for Valentine’s Day this year though?”

Oikawa had rushed over once he saw Kageyama with her, shoving the mop into the closet and quickly getting to them. The floor was still wet though, so when she heard a thud and a string of curses, turning her head she saw Oikawa rubbing his back with a scrunched-up face.

She waved Kageyama off, going to Oikawa and crouching down next to him.

“Tooru, I think the floor is still wet.”

“No, really?” The words are laced with sarcasm. She giggles a little before giving him a hand, he takes it and stands up, still rubbing his backside.

As they made their way to her car, an old beater car that she had made into her dream car of sorts, she asked Oikawa what he was going to do on March 14th. Checking her review mirrors, and messing with the keychains she had hanging from the mirror, she backed the car up so she could get onto the main road.

“March 14th?” Oikawa faked dumb. “Nothing is happening on March 14th.” He folds his arms and settles into his seat. He wonders what Kageyama had told her during their conversation and if that had anything to do with her questioning his White Day plans.

“Okay good, I’ll be with Ito that day, so don’t have anything in mind.”

Oikawa grimaced. Ito Yuuta went to a different school than Aoba Johsai but was still way too involved in her life for Oikawa’s liking. His sister had shown Oikawa photos of Ito and her together at various hangouts.

“Ito Yuuta? The one that smells like he drowned in a forest?”

“Is that what she said he smells like? Yes, he does smell like evergreens. However, you betcha I love the smell of trees. He’s yummy.” She didn’t realize that she had begun to discuss someone she was interested in with someone who was extremely interested in her. “And his hair? Ugh, the way he gels it has me nearly weak in the knees.”

She pulled into his driveway, waiting for Oikawa to hop out. He didn’t.

“Tooru, we’re at your house?”

“Don’t leave yet, I have something for you.” Oikawa exits the car but keeps the door open so she can’t reverse.

He tossed a small box at her, and she barely caught it in her hands. She tugged at the small white ribbon on top of the blue box. “Wait!” She looked at him, “Don’t open it yet. Open it when you get home, okay?”

After he shut her car door and went to his room, he bounced his knee and waited for a text message from her.

Inside the white box was a card of course, but also a bracelet. It was a thin chain, with several charms attached to it. She picked up the card, and on the front was a legend of sorts, describing what each charm was for.

A key represented his wish for her to always have security and safety. A book charm was to show that he thought she was super smart. Her favorite charm though was the star, because he intended for it to mean how much she shined in his eyes.

The inside contents of the card were short, just about how glad he was to have her in his life. The other drafts of the card had been continually vetoed by Iwaizumi. Stealing poetry from Shakespeare would not have gotten the right emotion across. And confessing that he thought about her all the time would’ve come off as too stalker-ish. The best option Iwaizumi said was to go with the K.I.S.S method. And the K.I.S.S methodology went as follows, ‘Keep it simple, stupid.’

(tooru, thank you for the present.)

He saw that she was typing, and another message was loading.

(it’s sweet that you thought of getting me this for white day.)

He bit at the inside of his mouth. She had sent a photo of her holding up a peace sign, her wrist had the the bracelet on display.

(love you! 💛)

He sighed, falling back onto his bed. He wondered how embarrassing it would be if anyone knew he was fifteen and still kicked his feet a little to physically convey his blend of elation and how much fondness he had for her.

He hadn’t officially given her a White Day present, because he gave her the gift on March 12th. Which he thought was probably better than any sort of White Day gift. His present was special because of his simple desire to get her something rather than the bracelet being for a yearning for her to reciprocate something like a White Day confession.

The third year of high school was supposed to be his year. He bounced back from his second-year depression, using the time off of school to hone his skills, to practice being perfect. He felt as if he was close to attaining the perfection he aimed for. He still loses out on a chance to get to the Nationals. Losing to Karasuno in a devastatingly close game.

During the game, she saw him land on his bad knee and she almost jumped out of her seat. After the game, and watching how all the third years were struggling to hold back their tears, or the way that Oikawa harshly slapped Iwaizumi’s back to get him to line up, she appreciated volleyball just a little more.

When Oikawa threw his white kneepad into a garbage bin unceremoniously, she held back any comments or questions. His kneepad being thrown away was the end of a chapter for him. His mom got after him for throwing away a perfectly good kneepad, but she just gently put a hand on Oikawa’s mom’s shoulder and made an expression to not push the kneepad incident further. It’s not until a month after that loss to Karasuno that Oikawa and her get into an argument.

At the dinner party his parents throw annually Oikawa sneaks a glass of beer and sips it outside on the balcony. People chatter inside the house, talking about how much Takeru has grown up and what a lovely couple Oikawa’s sister and her husband are.

She comes out to the balcony to escape the adults asking her about her life. Too many questions about boys, books, and her future for her to have a settled stomach. Outdoor air always calmed her stomach down.

“Tooru, being naughty are you?” She puts a finger on the rim of his red plastic cup. He turns his head away to hide his blush. She just laughs a little in response.

“Are you ready to be done with high school?” She asks. Leaning over the railing, her hands clasp onto each other. Elbows splayed out on the metal railing, and Oikawa copies her so that his elbow is touching hers.

“I think so.” He answers. Oikawa takes a drink from his cup, the starchiness coating his throat uncomfortably. “I’ll be going away after graduation. Argentina.”

He wants her to ask him to not go.

“That’s amazing! Tooru, I’m so glad that you’ve found a path to follow.” Her smile betrays the way her stomach can hardly take the news. She’s just the friend of his older sister, she’s just someone who watches out for him. Why would he, a brilliant person, ever halt his destiny for her?

“Yeah, I’ll be playing for a team that I think could be fun.”

She forces another smile.

He forces a smile back. But then he gets upset. Why should he have to pretend like everything is fine? He thinks she deserves to know how he feels.

“You know, I’d be more fun if you were there too. With me.”

“You’re funny, did you know that?” She fakes a laugh, “Me in Argentina? I hate summers here, imagine how I’d react to the weather in Argentina.”

“You’d adapt. You always do.”

“That’s kind of you to say.”

He turns to her, putting the hand that wasn’t holding his drink on her hip. She tries to detach from him, but he just grips her tighter, linking a finger through her jean loop and tugging her into him closer. He loves it when she’s close to him. She relaxes into the hold he has on her.

“I want to offer you so much more than just kindness.”

Biting on her lip, it was her turn to move her face away from his stare, hiding the way her eyes kept flickering across his face and landing on his lips.

She wasn’t unaware that Oikawa felt something towards her, but she diminished his feelings as a crush that kids have on older girls. Each time they met, she realized that that wasn’t the truth. He saw her and she didn’t appreciate the way that he would look at her. He looked at her like she was his lifeline.

“I think your sister is calling for me.” Oikawa’s sister was in her old room putting her son to sleep.

Oikawa kept pulling her into him, their hips fully touching now. He ran a hand over her arm, from her elbow to her wrist. “You can’t keep avoiding me.” It’s a tone that is lightly sing-song but also carries a grittiness.

She hadn’t been around his house as frequently as of late. Using school or work as an excuse to not watch movies or let him try to teach her volleyball again.

“I’m not avoiding you.” She wriggled, trying to escape him but not putting much effort into her withdrawal.

“Don’t lie.” His tone now balances on the edge of a knife, one side was a typical cheeky silly tone, and the other was an abrasively tormented tone.

“I’m not interested in you like that, Tooru.” It was a last-ditch attempt to see how far he was willing to go. How close he was going to come to ripping apart their fragile friendship. She didn’t have any sewing materials left in store to repair what was going to occur.

He swallows thickly, eyes searing into hers. “You’re being mean.” His tone had fallen over and landed flat on the tormented side.

He lets the words sting her, not softening their blow. Oikawa wonders if she’s lying or telling the truth. It was a fine line between whether he should urge the issue to finally crack her shell or if she was being honest and she was totally out of his reach.

Managing to finally break away from the way Oikawa lured her in, she went into the main kitchen that opened into the living room where everyone was making conversation. He downs the rest of his alcohol and tosses the plastic cup into the outdoor trash can.

Oikawa doesn’t know how many more drinks he steals from the kitchen, watching her talk to people and gently touch shoulders in acknowledgment and understanding.

The moment Oikawa accidentally and drunkenly breaks a vase with zinnias, primroses, and calla lilies, his parents shut down the party. His sister heads out, asking her best friend if she needs a ride home. She says that she’s good, she’ll enjoy the February blossoms on a walk home.

Oikawa’s mom asks if she’ll check on Oikawa before she leaves. She says she doesn’t know if that would be a good idea, but Oikawa’s mom begs to differ. As it turns out, when she was outside the house, talking to her best friend, Oikawa hit his hand against the concrete wall of his house. His mom had bandaged most of the scrapes, but she couldn’t do anything about the way his eyes seemed empty.

She wonders if his aversion to her right now had anything to do with his earlier confession and her adamant rejection. Or if his anger is all due to his volleyball woes. She reasons that it ultimately has to be the loss to Karasuno.

“You’re letting yourself get bothered? You’re letting this moment tick you off and you go and punch a wall?” She’s knocking harder on his door. “Get off your ass and face me.”

“Go away.”

“You’re falling down a path that I can’t save you from. Tooru, listen to me please.” He doesn’t respond. She hears the ticking of the clock in his room from where she sits outside his bedroom door, her head resting against the wood.

On the other side of the door, he’s hugging his legs on his bed, his face on top of his knees as he glares at the doorknob where the lock is turned. His stubborn, obstinate, unyielding pride prevents him from getting up and opening the door so he can cry everything out and so she can hold him. He just wants her to hold him.

This fit isn’t about volleyball anymore, it’s about them. She knows it. The way that he sealed her into his life and now that she wants to be unstitched. He feels wounded.

She investigates. “Are you ready for whatever you’ll go through throughout your life? People will probe you, instigate you, and deride you infinitely worse than what I’ve ever said to you.” People will be able to say they love you and I can’t.

He opens the door, “No one will ever hurt me more than you hurt me. You hold so much more power over me than anyone else,” He waves his hand that’s wrapped in white cloth to emphasize his point. “You make me feel like this. Like every emotion is dialed to one hundred.”

“I can’t choose how you feel. I can’t make you feel anything.” She pokes him in the chest. “You’re a child and you’re acting like it too, get over your facade and get over your surface-level crush on me. You don’t know me and don’t you ever pretend like you do.”

He raises his hand, she reacts with a flinch. He finished the motion, he was going to run his hand through his hair. His stomach drops and he realizes that she just thought he was going to slap her.

It's a whisper of, “I’d never hurt you.”

He backs into his room, wanting to disappear from the exchange. The argument ended there.

“I know, I just reacted, it’s okay.” Hearing his barely audible whimpers, she crosses the threshold of his door. A suitcase is half-filled in the corner, with clothes hanging out of the case. A book on speaking Spanish is on top of his laptop.

The silence is cut with the shuffles of their feet on his carpet and intermittent sniffles.

His chest tightens, short releases of air paired with overzealous inhales. “I miss you even when you’re around. How is that possible?”

“I don’t know.” She sits on his bed, and he curls into her side, rubbing his nose on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. My words failed me, I’m a liar. Tooru, you know me better than my family does.”

He kisses her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her neck. Hot breath is on the side of her face.

“I need you to let me go. I’m not your person.” She wishes she was, but she felt like she just wasn’t.

Oikawa can’t help the crack in his voice, “Why do you get to decide that?”

“I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers.”

“To me you do, you have all my answers.”

They begin to cry at the same time.

He replicates what he remembers her doing to him so many times. Caressing her hair and pressing his lips to the top of her head repeatedly. She seems so much smaller than him nowadays. He’s been six feet tall for a while now but only when she began to seem removed did he realize that he’s bigger than her.

“Tooru.”

He mutters in response. They had begun to lay in his bed, with Oikawa pulling blankets up to cover the both of them, his arm encasing her waist and keeping her close to him. His ceiling fan kept spinning overhead. He had his head on the pillow and wanted her to just release the stiffness in her body and soften into his touch.

“Tooru?” She tries to sit up, but he’s tired of that and refuses to let her go. She faces him, twisting around in the embrace. Both their heads are on pillows now, he keeps his eyes closed. “I want you to know that I do love you.”

He raises his eyebrows in wariness, unsure of where she’s taking her words.

“I love you but I can’t be what you want. I can be a sister figure, I can be a best friend, I can be someone you can talk to, but I cannot be a lover.”

Oikawa wanted to hug her tighter, but he was already leaving imprints on her waist that were sure to leave light bruises and tenderness the next day. All he can say in response is a hum.

As soon as Oikawa had fallen asleep, she left.

The dreamer and reality face-off was Oikawa’s least favorite thing. The way that he could dream all he wanted, but reality failed to match those expectations. People always say that the future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams, but where’s the beauty in knowing that your future is sullied because of being born in the wrong year? For being born in the wrong life this time. For being born as the person she wasn’t going to end up with.

The spring after his graduation, Oikawa was messing around with her. He had to have been. Their fight at the dinner party weighed on them, but more so on her.

She wonders if she made the right choice. Her feelings had flipped on her and she knew it. Instead of pushing him away due to her unease about the age difference, she pushed him away because she was afraid of how deeply she would fall.

All the times her friends had teased her about being a cradle-robber, or a cougar for having such a smitten boy around her, she had let those comments get to her. It was ironic, the same hyperfixation that Oikawa had for volleyball was matched in her hyperfixation on the way she was older than him and tried to always act like it too.

Oikawa decided to stay persistent. He knew that she still appreciated that quality about him. He wanted to put his ambition to good use.

He lounged without a shirt around his sister’s place when she was there to visit. He’d caught her looking at him once, or three times, and the way he could see her begin to play with her fingers, wringing them out was more than enough for him to embrace a level of confidence he hadn’t shown to her before. He was on the older end of eighteen, she was on the cusp of twenty into twenty-one.

She had been looking at pictures, trying to avoid where Oikawa took up space in the living room. It had been ten minutes since his sister had left and she hadn’t said anything to him, not even a greeting. He did not appreciate that.

If she was so insistent on being anything to him but a lover, then he would treat her like that.

Wrapping arms around her may have been the breaking point, but he committed to the final blow, “Hey best friend.” She rattled out a titter, but any move she made would result in her brushing against the bare skin of his arms, or his chest, or worst-case his stomach.

He rests his chin on her shoulder, “Oh wait, you wanted to be called sister yeah?”

She gritted her teeth, still trying to decode a breakaway moment. Oikawa’s sister was stuck in traffic from picking up some fast food. Takeru was at daycare, the husband was at work. It would be just Oikawa and her for another twenty minutes or so. She hoped he wouldn’t be so insistent to keep touching her for the entire duration until his older sister returned.

“My name works perfectly fine Oikawa.”

He turns her around, still grasping her, “Oikawa?” He tisks, sliding his hands from her back to her waist. “That doesn’t sound right to me.”

Within her shoes, she kept wiggling her toes uncomfortably.

“I know your name, and you know mine,” He lowers his voice, “So use my name.”

Shaking her head she closes her eyes.

“C’mon, it’s just two syllables. Too-ru. Your turn.”

Adamantly she leaned away from where she could feel his breath, increasing the span between them.

“Sisters and brothers use each other's given names.” He tightens his hold, one hand on the small of her back and the other on her waist still. He leveraged his lack of a shirt to see how close he could get, knowing she didn’t want to touch him. She’d let him get away with slipping around her while she stayed frozen in place.

“Stop it! We are not related!” She opened her eyes and stomped her foot a little. Her jaw was clenched and her eyes were wide.

“Good. Never wanted you as a sister anyway.” He wanted her in extremely not sisterly ways.

“Tooru quit it.”

“Why? Isn’t this what best friends do? They tease, they taunt, they play.” Oikawa grips her face, smushing it gently in his left hand. He smiles at her. His grip was so delicate but his touch was heated.

The best response had to have been dishing up what he was serving. So she slid her hand over his chest, resting on his pectoral. He could feel the vein in his neck pulsing. He drops his hold on her and takes a step back, his calf hitting the coffee table. Her step forward to him is calculated.

He wishes he was wearing his shirt now.

“We can play whatever you want Tooru.”

He stutters.

“How cute.” She pinches his cheek, then puts her hand back on his chest.

The door handle turns and she drops her hand, fixing her shirt a little from where Oikawa had grabbed at her. Oikawa doesn’t even notice her move to pick up a book and scan through the pages in the far corner of the living room.

Oikawa’s sister had bags of greasy food and she jutted out her hip, “I got the good stuff.” His sister scans the room, “Put a shirt on. Is it too hot in here? You’re red from the ears down.”

“I’m good.”

“Weirdo.” Oikawa’s sister rolls her eyes at him, “Now, let’s eat.”

Their dynamic bounced between them. Oikawa pushing and pulling in various directions, while she tried her best to stay still. He did settle down, calming his nerves.

Could say he did everything if he didn’t give one last attempt for her heart?

He’s twenty now, and she’s twenty-two. He asked if she would go on a car ride with him. She agreed. Piling snacks and drinks into her passenger side, she asked where they would be going. He sidetracks.

They end up at a beach, far along the coastline. There’s a rocky platform, but they crawl down to the sandy area, where the water laps up the seashells trying to bring them home to the cold ocean.

He postponed Argentina for two years. One month was left on his pause before going where he knew he needed to be. His club would only wait so long for him before his spot would be filled.

He sits on the large towel he brought. She’s picking through seashells, squatting by the water.

An idea runs through his head. He doesn’t let it die out. He’s just a kid after all.

He pushes her into the water with a laugh, she splashes him by lifting her cupped hands and dumping salty water over his head. He catches her by the torso, but she manages an escape and starts going further into the water, he just follows after her.

They shiver as they stand both waist-deep in the ocean. His hair is sticking to his forehead, and her teeth chatter but it doesn’t detract from the way she’s smiling.

Oikawa swims closer to her. There’s maybe an inch between them. He lays all his cards on the table when he holds her face in his hands. Goosebumps riddle the expanse of their bodies.

“Since I can’t have you in this life, I want just one more memory with you.” A shiver runs through her. Oikawa continues, “So before I leave, I need you to promise that we’ll find each other in the next life regardless of who we are?”

“We’ll find each other, in every life. Just like how we found each other in this one.” She’s quiet, but he can hear her perfectly. She’s trying to make herself seem older with her words, more mature. She grasping onto straws making it seem like she isn’t wrecked by what he’s asking.

She moves her fingers through the water, he takes his hands away from her face so he can position her hands onto his shoulders. He goes back to cupping her face. She wraps her arms around his neck and lets their bodies mold against each other.

Their clothes are soaked through, her long sleeve is getting stretched out from the waves. Sweatpants absorb the icy water and stick to their legs. His shirt is clinging to him and leaving an exact outline of his torso.

Oikawa’s a little choked up but he wants her to know what he’s thinking so he gets the words out. “Promise we’ll end up together in the next life?” He moves his head so their foreheads are touching.

“How we are right now, again?” She splays her fingers, intertwining the hair at his nape between each finger, he shudders from the contact.

“No. Like we were meant to be. Like we were made for each other. I want to find us as lovers.”

She lets the weight of her head fall into his hands and he lets out a short muted sigh of relief at how the tip of her nose hits his.

“Okay.”

His eyes flicker to her lips, she notices. He brings his head down a little, “Just once? Once where you kiss back?”

She’s softer with how she kisses than he is. She’s more experienced, but she goes slower than Oikawa expects. It’s just pecks, and he wants more. When he licks her bottom lip, it’s salty from the ocean, but he thinks she tastes perfect. He can’t help the way that he moans into the kiss or the way he grabs her thighs and makes them wrap around his hips.

It’s all in the way she’s the first one to slide her tongue into his mouth slightly.

He wants to consume each noise she makes. He hardly notices the way he runs out of breath when he starts moving from her lips to her jaw and then back to her mouth. When she backs her head away, his head keeps coming to follow hers, trailing her lips with his.

Pressing a hand right below his neck, her fingers touching his shoulderbone, she makes distance between them so she can force Oikawa to pause and get some air.

“I lied.” Oikawa’s eyes are blown out, pupils dark and filling in his irises. She purses her lips, and she goes to loosen the way her legs are around him, but he holds her where he wants her. Legs still around him. “I lied because I know I can’t wait until our next life. I need you in this life, and all the other ones.”

She goes to speak, but he keeps going. “I’ll make it work, I’ll make everything work out the way it should. I just want you to say yes. I want you to want to say yes. I need you to say yes to me because I don’t think my soul could take anything less than your entirety.”

He pauses and she opens her mouth again, Oikawa doesn’t know when to stop and the words rush out, “One more- I’ll be quick.” He steals an open-mouthed kiss, running his tongue over hers.

She rolls her eyes, and Oikawa steals another peck on her lips.

“Okay, two more.” He shrugs a little, “I’m not any sort of genius, yet, but I know that I was meant to be yours. Maybe I knew it when I was seven, maybe I knew it when you shoved that stupid counterclock in my asinine face and told me to go to bed. But I know it.”

The sun officially setting made the water so much colder, so she tucked her head into his neck, “I love everything you’re saying right now but I’m freezing.”

“You love what I’m saying?”

“I’m cold Tooru. Focus please.” He lets out a sound of understanding. It’s cute how she waddles out of the water, but he realizes he’s probably doing the same side to side penguin walk.

He picks up the towel and waves it out so the sand gets off the fibers, then he wraps it around her shoulders. He’s hugging her from behind and pressing small kisses to the side of her face. Attempting to get back up to the car with him attached like a koala is difficult but not impossible.

The engine of the car is running, and he fidgets with the heater. He has a tic where he’ll mess with the amount of air blowing, then the level of heat, and then go back to the amount of air. Each knob he twists changes the temperature until he finally settles on a lull of heat.

Her head is resting against the window, getting slightly rocked by the movement of the car on the road. The towel was still wrapped around her. Oikawa had found another one in the trunk and had it wrapped around his waist, he had forgone a shirt since the heater was working just right and he didn’t want a wet t-shirt on anymore.

“I meant what I said you know.” Oikawa had one hand on the wheel and one hand on her armrest. “I’m going to make everything work out the way it needs to work out.”

“Mm-hm.”

“I’m yours now.” Oikawa lets his smug smile roam on his face.

“Mine? No title? Not boyfriend?”

Oikawa moves the hand from the armrest onto her thigh, “The title I’m settling for is husband or soulmate. Take your pick. I’ll propose soon, don’t worry angel.”

She tilts her head up and laughs. He rubs his thumb over her knee.

In contrast to the way his hair had a halo in the sun, she had a halo made of stars and the moon. Instead of creating an outline of her hair, the night sky embedded itself and adorned her. Rather than trying to amplify her, the moon and stars realized she naturally had a halo around her and wanted to say congratulations by shining through her rather than on her.

Although she declines the first four proposals, she accepts the one right before he leaves. Oikawa would never tell her but he was relieved that she accepted, he couldn’t handle the idea of him not being around and her getting moved in on by some other guy- despite her telling him consistently that she would turn other guys down.

The ring didn’t act like a perfect deterrent, but it made him feel secure. He liked that she wore all the stuff he got her on the same hand, his ring and his bracelet from way long ago.

Oikawa sends her a new jersey almost every month, with his signature across the front near his player number. He also sends all sorts of knick-knacks he finds in Argentina. He makes a point of calling when she’s eating lunch, and he’s about to go to bed so that she doesn’t have to stay awake to answer his calls. His mom and sister get annoyed that he spends hours talking to her but only minutes talking to them. He tells them that true love takes precedence over family.

She has to chastise him to get him to actually stay on call with his mom for longer than thirty minutes.

They fight a few times about where to live. He wins the argument and she moves to Argentina once she officially graduates college.

An apartment filled with her stuff and his stuff side by side makes him giddy. But he especially gets excited with the fact that he gets the side of the bed closest to the bedroom door, and she gets the side furthest away from the bedroom door.

Sometimes he’ll stay up much too late, his back against the headboard of their bed watching volleyball videos.

“Tooru, go to bed.” She nuzzles against her pillow a little more, her back towards him as she tries to avoid the light of the laptop screen on his legs.

“One more video.” He clicks on a replay of a match that goes all the way to five sets with commentary during each timeout instead of the video cutting to the next play.

When he chuckles a little, she turns over and shuts the laptop. “Bedtime.” She makes a fake sleeping sound. Oikawa sets the laptop on his side table, turning the table light off.

She lifts her head so Oikawa can put his arm under her head. She presses a kiss to his bicep.

“What’s the clock say?”

He slings his leg over her torso and puts his other arm across her stomach.

“It’s not even midnight yet.” She clicks her tongue and he fixes his response. “It’s 23:14.”

He kisses the corner of her mouth. When she doesn’t say anything, he gives her a real kiss. Still no response and he licks the length of her jaw to her chin. She lets out a small din of disgust.

“Fine! Goodnight Tooru.”

He whines a little.

She groans. She sits up a little and leans over him, ruining the positioning she had spent minutes working on. She rests the length of her arms on either side of his head, her face right above his.

One of her hands begins to play with his hair, which begins to twirl around her fingers, softly grazing her palm. He uses his arm to force her back down so that her chest is pressed to his, he lets out a coo to express gratification when her weight is on top of him.

“I love you, my pretty boy.” She kisses his cheek, “Handsome, intelligent, angelic, slightly egotistical-” He nips her bottom lip. “I love you, goodnight, I’ll be here in the morning.”

He’s living his dream. There’s no difference between his dreams and reality now. No gaps to fight against. Only a pair of invisible halos for the rest of their lives.

[emmyrosee]

'Samu thoughts you say? (๑˘︶˘๑)

Bf! Osamu is the type of man that arrives home and searches for you just to kiss your forehead and ask about your day

The type to ask everytime you come back home from anywhere if you're hungry so you both can buy or make something

Bf! Osamu who has a stubble after a rough week in the restaurant and asks you to help him shave it since you didn't have time to share at all

Osamu who has a picture of you in his wallet AND his office at Onigiri Miya, maybe even one in the kitchen

The type to be subtle with the PDA but when you're both alone he's the biggest cat you've ever seen, noms on your cheeks or shoulders for no reason

Finally the type that knows you're the one when you spend the whole night with him with preparations for a big event on the restaurant

(I'm an avid Tsumu lover, but Osamu is just so boyfriend and husband material I can't ignore it)

OSAMU GOING OUT OF HIS WAY TO FIND YOU AND KISS YOU IS SO GOOD IM GONNA DIE

Bc he’s been so excited to kiss you all day, since this morning when he kissed you last, he just wants to run and pick you up and spin you around and pull you into this insane kiss because you make him feel on top of the world. He settles for an excited flurry of kisses from both of you, giggles and smiles and happy, easy breaths.

OSAMU WHO ASKS IF YOURE HUNGRY BECAUSE HE GETS TO DO HIS FAVORITE ACTIVITY FOR HIS FAVORITE PERSON AND WHO WOULDN'T LOVE DOING THAT???

who jumps up onto his feet and takes your jacket and kisses you with a quick flurry of "you hungry?" "did you eat?" "want to have a snack with me?"

OSAMU!!!!! WITH STUBBLE!!!! IM GONNA CHOKE-

who loves the way you shrink up your shoulders from the tickly feeling of him kissing your cheeks and neck, but loves the way you focus on shaving him even more, the tip of your tongue poking out as you draw the razor over his cheeks and jawline- you nicked him once on the neck, so now you force him to do it himself; but he still trusts you implicitly.

OSAMU WHO KEEPS PICTURES OF YOU EVERYWHERE IM-

he's got you in his wallet, his phone screen, there's one of you in his office and one of you in the inside of his onigiri miya cap. there's one of you in the restaurant, one facing out to the people, and one resting on the register. when someone asks who you are, he gets this wide, proud smile and confidently gives them an excited "my fiancé!"

OSAMU MIYA IS A BITER AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL

hes the clingy one, the one who dangles off of you, the one who leaves playful bites and curls on your lap and falls asleep with your hand in his fluffy hair.

AND HIM SETTING UP THE RESTURANT FOR A JACKALS AFTER PARTY OR SOMETHING, KNOWING YOURE RIGHT THERE WITH HIM TO SUPPORT HIS DREAMS AND GIVE HIM A PROUD LOOK AT THE BEGINNING AND END OF EVERY DAY 🥺❤️❤️

[raebae0001]

sigh. i need some soul crushing, gut wrenching angst. i wanna cry and bawl my eyes out. help

[lxnarphase]

begging u to write more about mean oikawa….. i need him so bad its not even funny

LISTEN LISTENNN !!!

every time oikawa is mean to you, he's so fucking loud and literally cannot shut up. he's in your ear, sounding sooo mean as he teases you.

“you wan' me to push all the way in, sweetie? aww, but what if I don’t want to? you just look soooo good like this, so slutty and needy, trying to fuck yourself with just the tip of my cock.” 

AND GOD FORBID YOU SNAP BACK AT HIM he loves it he has to bite back the whimper when you tell him he's a brat, that he's being mean AND HE'S MATCHING YOUR WORDS !! "oh yeah? shit, i didn't know you were such needy thing! it's sooo cute...fuck me yourself, then, since you’re just so desperate to turn me into a mess. mmm, unless you’re too soft to do it? Aw, guess I just have to fuck myself of that cock/strap of yours.”

[anisespice]

[uc1wa]

so real!! I need to date Iwa in college actually. My silly tanned boyfriend in nutrition yelling at me for not eating proper meals n cooking for me :((((( he's so dreamy

cries. was gonna post this by itself but if there's a free chance to talk ab my man i will take it w open arms.

iwaizumi hajime, who majors in kinesiology with a minor in nutritional science, taking classes for his major that consists of physical therapies and practicing the best eating habits.

he'll gladly practice on you, as a means of studying, of course.

you're sore after a long day of sitting in uncomfortable chairs in your lecture hall? hajime learned how to bend your body in ways that will make you forget about the aches in your lower back. long day on your feet at work? he'll hold your hand into the shower and rub your limbs with coco butter until you're moaning softly with eyes ready to close to sleep.

nutritional science was a minor he had picked up when he realized he could handle the workload of his prestigious university. something that he realized would benefit him in his future endeavors. yet, another practice that he was so thanksful you could attend him to. small things like making sure that you were eating all food categories while also practicing his cooking (he loved cooking with you, taking kissing breaks after he'd lift you on his apartment counter). his backpack, organized with books and journals, was always filled with snacks too.

so when he'd catch up with you after class, he'd have a trail mix he made earlier that week. but if he had just left his place, he was sweet enough to bring you a rice roll. something filling, but not too much when he knew you had classes in the next twenty minutes.

[liquidcatt]

When it's your first time

Him: Don't worry…I'll be gentle. You: DON'T BE!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[xuanbaoo]

Love Blooms in Early Spring.

masterlist || rules

content: pre-timeskip tsukishima, fem!reader, fluff, reverse comfort and angst if you squint?, third year tsukishima and reader, yamaguchi mentioned.

warnings: mentions of divorce, isolation, and neglect maybe?, not proof read very well, kind of scattered plot? if i'm missing anything feel free to tell me!<3

word count: 1.6k

Tsukishima Kei never was one to enjoy physical touch. It made him feel uncomfortable, vulnerable even. After the divorce of his parents when he was 14, he preferred the known which wouldn't hurt him. His mother slowly became more distant, leading to him spending more and more time alone. He didn't mind, he preferred it this way.. right?

It was a chilly spring day, the air in the classroom refreshing and light. You always liked spring. Early spring, specifically. You loved how the chilly air hit your skin waking you up. You breathed the cold air into your lungs as the teacher babbled on about kinetic energy and boring school stuff.

Tsukishima didn't care for spring. It was cold and wet. Not to mention the constant rain that seemed to only occur in the afternoons to evenings. The only thing good about spring, he thought, was how you always shone brighter than ever.

Ever since first year, you two have been in the same class. The first time he noticed you was when your class had to do presentations on electron configuration. You raised your hand to present, saving everyone from the wheel picker. You presented with this air of confidence, and though Tsukishima wasn't usually one to pay attention to class presentations, you had this overwhelming presence which seemed to demand attention.

He's noticed you more and more after that presentation. He's noticed you pay close to no attention during class but somehow get grades on par with his or even better which he will never admit, you are pretty popular with your classmates, you always are the first to leave after the dismissal bell, and what stood out most to him was that you always—without fail—smile at him when you catch him looking. Oh how he loved your smile. He was growing fond of you, though he would desperately like to deny that fact for as long as he can.

You noticed him staring a few times, but you paid it no mind. You two, though having been classmates for almost three years, have barely spoke. Sure, a few pleasantries have been exchanged but never an actual conversation.

Today, in class, that would change. The teacher was assigning a partner project, and paired you with Tsukishima. As she let the class begin getting to work, you look over and see an empty seat beside him. Smiling, you collect all your books and plop down in the seat next to him, scooting your desk so it was adjacent his.

"Hi." He said awkwardly as you set up station next to him. Looking up at him with a smile, you also greeted him. He was suddenly hyper aware of every small movement he made. Where does he put his hands? Was his breath normal? Could she hear his heart which was going at around 100mph?

"Tsukishima? Earth to Tsukishima?" You said, snapping him out of whatever trance he was in. "Ah, yes, sorry." he responded, coughing and adjusting himself in his seat.

You spent most of the time just talking about the project, and he was realizing how easy you are to talk to. Looking up at the clock, you realized there was around ten minutes left of class and you two were halfway done the assignment already. "We work so quickly." I said with a smile, pointing out the time to him. Tsukishima nods in agreement, slightly surprised at the rate in which you two got so much done.

"Uhh, if you'd like we could finish up today at my house." He offered impulsively, almost biting his tongue at the words which flowed surprisingly easily. From the little time you two spoke, you could tell he was introverted. You gave him a warm smile. "That would be great, heres my number, text me when I can come over!" You said, quickly scribbling your number onto a piece of paper and sliding it over to him. He took the paper and thanked you nonchalantly, but inside he was freaking out!

As the dismissal bell rung, you, as usual, quickly collected all your stuff and put the desk you borrowed back to where it was before, saying a quick goodbye to Tsukishima, then leaving.

At home, Tsukishima just stared at your contact on his phone. He had been cleaning for the past.. very long time, making sure his room is spotless before you came over. He was struggling to find a way to text you. 'Be here at 5:30.' sounded too demanding, but 'You can come at 5:30' sounded like he was too eager (it doesn't, he's just overthinking). He eventually settled on: 'Come over 5:30', which was met with 'Okay!' and a thumbs up emoticon from you.

You were at his house at exactly 5:30, knocking on his door, which swung open immediately as he had been waiting anxiously by the door for your arrival. "Hi! I brought gifts." I said with a smile, handing him a box of homemade strawberry shortcake. A surprised look adorned his face. "Thanks." He said, a small smile forming on his lips.

He led you into his house, placing the cake in the kitchen and leading you straight towards his bedroom, trying to avoid Akiteru teasing him later for finally bringing a girl home.

As you walked in his room, you were shocked to see how neat and just overall cleanly it is. "Wow, your room is very well kept." you remarked, which was met with a grumble from him as he forgot to hide some childhood photos. I noticed his volleyball jersey hanging on the wall and smiled. "You play volleyball?" You asked, looking back at him. "Yeah, since I was little." He replied, sitting down on his bed. You smiled, "That's so great, my little brother also plays." you said, sitting down next to him and getting out your books.

The rest of the afternoon was mostly talk about volleyball, the assignment, how siblings were annoying, etc. You evidently got more comfortable with each other as the night progressed, and even exchanged some playful banter. By the end of the night, you two spent more time just chatting and laughing away than doing the assignment, but in the end getting it done.

After the assignment was done, you both didn't want the night to end, so you ended up just putting your school supplies aside and chatting. "So, what do you plan to do after high school?" You asked, looking over at him with a smile. "University as an arts history major. And i'm going to keep playing volleyball, thats for sure." he said, "What about you?". "I'm going to university as a Psychology major, and maybe after that law school." you responded with a smile, followed by a short silence.

"Gosh, why didn't we talk sooner?" you said, breaking the silence as you look over to the blonde sitting beside you. "Because you never approached me, idiot." Tsukishima mumbled. "Well you never approached me either, Einstein." you retorted, but there was no heat behind your words. You both laughed it off as it became later and later, and eventually you had to bid your adieu's to your new friend, heading home.

During the rest of your third year, you and Tsukishima grew closer and closer. He introduced you to Yamaguchi, and you two became quick friends. You fit perfectly into his life, and soon you three became inseparable. You soon began to grow fond of Tsuki. Be it his constant teasing, nagging you about taking care of yourself, and little things he does to show he cares, you loved it all.

One chilly spring afternoon, after all classes had ended, you, Yamaguchi, and Tsukishima went to a coffee shop to study for a test you all had in a week. "No, it's obviously 3^4-2 dimwit. If you'd look here, then—" Tsukishima rambled, but was cut off by Yamaguchi's constant coughing. "'m sorry guys.. I think i'm sick." Yamaguchi said in a raspy voice. "Yams, you should get home. You don't look too great." you said, worried for your friend's wellbeing. Tsukishima agreed. "Alright then, I'll go home." Yamaguchi said, getting his stuff and saying his goodbyes before leaving the shop.

This left just you and Tsukishima to your bantering. You were ranting to him about how these questions were far more advanced than what she teaches on the board, meanwhile he could be making some snarky comeback, he stays quiet, content with just listening to you speak. He smiled and gave you amused nods as you rambled about how annoying this subject was, and how kissable your lips looked right now. He was scared, he didn't know how you'd react.

But you were so close, he could just reach up and.. he kissed you. This immediately shut you up, and at first you froze in surprise but quickly melted into the kiss. After you both pulled away, his face was bright red with embarrassment as yours had a rosy tint. "Oh? Tsukishima Kei likes me?" you teased as he looked up at you and rolled his eyes. "Yeah yeah tease me all you want shorty, who was the one kissing back?" He retorted as he tried playing off how nervous and flustered he was. You just laughed it off.

As you both quieted down, he looked into your eyes with the most genuine expression.

"I like you, Y/N. I've liked you for a long time." He said, barely loud enough for you to hear. He was okay with your kiss, your touch. He was okay with you. And maybe.. maybe he didn't want to be alone anymore.

"I like you too, Kei." You said, as the shop door opened, the cool spring air hitting both of you. "I like you too."

disclaimer: i do not own any of these characters! this is also my first time writing this type of fanfic guys so please cut me some slack.. sorry if its hard to follow or just bad writing!

[lawlzichat]

bro i wanna have a full makeout session with tsukishima then he grips my thigh so bad im serious ☹️☹️😓😓

[strawberry-hachi]

Kenma x GN! Reader x Kuroo

Kenma and Kuroo will always hold a special place in your heart.

The first time you'd met them was separately. You were the only other kid in the neighborhood and Kenma's mom had wanted him to make friends since he stayed in the house all day.

"Hello!"

He was a quiet boy with long, black hair that reached his shoulders. He responded with a small, "Hi.." that he had to repeat because you couldn't hear him. He was small, if not a bit scrawny, but when you came over next time with a Gameboy, the way his face lit up gave promise that he was more than that.

Kuroo Tetsuro, on the other hand, you had met much later. He had moved to Tokyo probably a month or two after you met the boy named Kenma and he was introduced to Kenma first.

Kenma, a bit more socialized, hung around the boy and talked with him while they played games. However, as you recall this memory now, Kuroo was quite the non-verbal kid until school hit.

It's a fond memory, when you first met him. You had come over to Kenma's house on your own accord under the hot summer sun and Kenma's mom, as kind as she was, let you in without a doubt in her mind.

So, when you went upstairs to say hi to Kenma, you were surprised to see another boy around the same age with hair that spiked in all directions as though he went straight here from bed.

And you two stared at each other for a long while until you, as excitable as you were, bounced to him and introduced yourself.

Kenma had introduced him as Kuroo Tetsuro and your young mind, thinking it'd be funny, called him Shiro as a play on his name.

Kenma freaked out at Kuroo's lack of response but after a moment or two, he laughed.

It was the first time either of you had heard his voice.

You three were inseparable after that. Though you quite often had to drag them both out of the house because one of them didn't like the sun and the other was scared of people.

This certain memory had been one of those times. You had barged into Kenma's house yet again to drag him outside.

With that you two had went to Kuroo's house and you had to ask, very kindly, for Kuroo by his father who was absolutely ecstatic that his son had friends.

The moment Kuroo saw you, he had sprinted upstairs and it wasn't until he saw Kenma that he went along with your devious plans.

Today was a special day you see. Today was the day you build a fort for the three of you.

Of course, when you had brought up the idea to Kenma at first, he retorted saying his room was just fine for the three of you.

You, as young as you were, had bounced back saying that a secret hideout would be cool and Kenma, as young as he was, agreed before saying that you would do all the work cause it was your idea.

And so, here you were, out in the woods, dragging them to the spot you had found for your secret hideout.

You had worn high yellow rain boots that day alongside a sunhat much too big for you because it was your guardian's. It kept falling down on your face when you were travelling and even caused you to misstep and tumble into a river. Although shallow, you got soaked and Kuroo, upon seeing this, somehow convinced himself it was the perfect time to run.

With this, you were both soaked because you grabbed his shirt to try and stop him and just pulled him in. Kenma laughed so hard he almost fell over as well.

With that out of the way however, you were getting close to your destination.

The place in question was shaded by trees high enough that you couldn't see where they stopped or began. Even as you head back to the hideout every so often you stare in amazement as you can't seem to spot where it stops.

The cicadas that day were buzzing and you remember because of how hot it was and Kenma complaining about the noise as Kuroo quietly followed along, holding onto Kenma.

You had brought a long stick to act as your walking stick and so every so often, when Kenma got on your nerves, you'd poke him with it before continuing onwards.

Kenma, although he has gotten quieter, was always quite the complainer and it seemed to double whenever it was just you three and so quite often did you have to turn around and beat him with the stick whenever he complained about the heat or gravity.

The place itself was quite boring, with a barren and flat grass bottom and two trees flanking one another, but what made it really special was the ground that rose up two times higher than you that both of the trees were up against that jutted out at the top to create a little roof. It was a mixture of rock, mineral and dirt and you knew that geologically it was formed for some reason to do with water, but the way it jutted out to create a roof over your head while it was raining last week was the confirmation you needed that this was destiny. Much later you learned it is what is called a terrace in nature

Anyways, it was what made you want a hideout.

And with Kuroo and Kenma's free labor of bringing the various tools and supplies to make the hideout, you were set.

What you had done was secure two giant tarps onto the ground above by pinning them, and you admit it was hard to get up there until you began climbing by using the tree's roots that jutted out through the dirt, and then let it drape down onto the trees to create a roof and then you had begun to collect foliage, leaves, branches, anything, to cover the tarp as well as slowly build the walls. The entire time Kenma and Kuroo stayed inside the base as you worked. You found it funny and called them out on it, but Kenma simply said that you agreed to it and so you shut up.

At some point while you were collecting more foliage, it had begun to rain, and it was bad. Your clothes were completely soaked when you had gotten back, but while Kenma looked surprised and Kuroo looked horrified, they were completely dry. You felt proud that your hard work had protected your friends and had said so at the time, but they didn't say anything back and so you simply got back to work reinforcing the hideout.

It was thundering and the branches were swaying with the wind and so, upon realizing that there was nothing else you could do until the storm let up, you joined them as you crawled through the little opening you made with the foliage.

It was actually quite okay inside and pretty well insulated upon inspection and so you simply took to work inside as you used the little shovel Kenma brought and the bucket Kuroo dug out to keep the walls insulated. Every so often you would put the dirt filled bucket outside in the rain and take it back inside when it was utterly soaked and muddy so that you could use it to build up the walls.

Kenma simply watched you but at some point Kuroo began helping as you taught him how to build up the wall with the mud.

He nodded vigorously as he, quite clumsily, tried to help. You giggled during that particular moment and Kenma had called you creepy, but you couldn't help it because this was the first time Kuroo had initiated a conversation (or as much of a conversation he could muster) with you.

At some point you began sneezing and feeling faint and so Kenma, who was freaking out at this, thought it best to huddle as close as he could to you. Kuroo, who had a little more brain on the situation, had deduced that you were sick and you he attempted to wrap around you just like Kenma and you three became a big sick sandwich hug.

By the time the storm let up, the sun was going down and both you and Kuroo had mud stained hands and you specifically had soaked through clothes and a nasty fever. Kenma, in all his wise wisdom, had told you to quit it and that we can come back tomorrow and so, with a tearful goodbye to your seconda home, you all ventured off to the scolding of a lifetime.

But that didn't deter you as you dragged Kenma there the next day. Kuroo specifically waking up early so he could join you guys.

The mud has dried nicely and now the house had walls and a bit more space since you and Kuroo dug out part of the cliff.

Despite still being sick, you three stayed there for hours as you watched the two play volleyball while staying in the safety of the fortress you had built.

Every so often you would go fetch the ball when it wandered too far since you knew the forest the best out of you three, and Kenma, despite being tired and worn out, had the brains to call you some forest beast because of your affinity.

Kuroo had to break up your fight before you decided to infect Kenma with your cold.

At the end of the day, you, Kuroo and Kenma had all huddled up inside the cave and shared stories of before you came to Tokyo.

Kenma had always lived in Tokyo but he had one story of when he went outside of it to the country side. He expected it to be quiet but it really wasn't, and the people were much too friendly for his tastes. He was upset that everybody knew everyone and didn't like being known. You laughed as he recalled the embarrassing memories of growling at a kid for trying to speak with him and biting another for hugging him.

Kuroo, meanwhile, had lived in a different place of Japan all of his life until this point and so he told story after story after Kenma finished. Such as one where he caught a snake, or another where he was able to sneak into a grocery store and steal some snacks for his volleyball friends. It was the most talkative you two had seen him and so you both listened with smiles, yours noticeably larger.

At the end of it he simply thanked both of you for being his friends as Kenma made a gagging noise and you snorted at his choice of words. He obviously backtracked as he realized how heartfelt the words sounded, but he didn't deny them. He never did.

With you as the last one, you simply recalled before your family moved to Japan all those years ago. You recall the hot summer months and a mother tongue barely familiar to you now. At the end of it all you smile and make fun of both of them for their boring stories.

Both Kenma and Kuroo jump for you as it turns to a battle inside the house you built for you three. Kenma had jumped first as he went to shake you as he attempted to say how boring your story was. Kuroo, meanwhile, joined in for the laughs as he tried to go after you and then proceeded to tackle Kenma to the ground, successfully getting all three of you tangled by your awkward limbs.

The years passed quickly after that. Each year more blurrier than the last. As they grew, so did you. You were part of different middle schools because of your guardian's insistence on academics; so you only saw them when they would come over to hang out.

Such as when Kuroo, taller now and much more talkative, had dragged you out to your secret hideout you made all those years ago to study. You three seldom visited because of your conflicting schedules, but you knew that Kenma and Kuroo must have visited often because of the regular footprints in the dirt and the new additions inside the little cave such as chairs and tables and little desks to put things on. You often travelled there alone simply to make upgrades on it, and at one point you had spent an entire day making a volleyball court outside of it a little ways away in another open space and the very next day you had your window broken into by Kuroo who was carrying Kenma by the torso and who was all but ecstatic that you had made it.

He was so happy you had made it and even said that he wouldn't ever need a gym or house if you could just make it; which made you laugh. The day had then consisted of the two staying inside your room as you played games, watched volleyball games on Kuroo's phone and got absolutely destroyed by Kenma on your PSP.

As highschool was slowly arising, Kenma and Kuroo, alongside you, had begun to make big changes.

Kuroo, for one had gotten a major growth spurt, but he also got more muscular, somehow even more charismatic, if not charming, and slowly you had wondered if he was the same nonverbal boy that you had met all those years ago.

It's not like it was any different with Kenma either. Once he was shorter than you, but now you find yourself having to compete to see who is taller. Now, you realize how observant he is; something you didn't care for before. Or how devious, or downright malicious, he can get.

When you were younger you thought his complaining was annoying, if not his entire character, but now you realize it is something he seldom does, even more so without any venom behind. It made your heart squeeze at the thought that he cared enough to not regard other people's judgement for you and Kuroo.

You had begun to wonder if these were the same boys you grew up with at times. It was as though they were leaving you behind.

And yet, they were still the same. Kuroo still would throw rocks at your window to get your attention so that he could hangout in your room. Kenma still arrived at your house in the middle of the night to escape Kuroo; giving you one hell of a scare.

They were still the boys you loved.

You just weren't sure what kind of love anymore. If it was familial and platonic or something different.

Your years at Nekoma, as you entered highschool, were chaotic.

Letting Kuroo and Kenma know you were finally going to be in the same school as them had them quite literally screaming and it took all you had to not join them.

Things had changed, you weren't the same, over excitable kid anymore. You were more mature, more composed now.

But you wouldn't say that you didn't enjoy getting to be like that again.

The first day you had arrived at Nekoma, Kuroo had quite literally waltzed into your classroom, ignored the teacher who had said he would get detention if he didn't leave, sat on your desk, and demanded that you become the manager for the boy's volleyball or that he would never leave your house again.

You had gawked at him as he was dragged out by two other third years. Their names you later learn being Kai and Yaku.

It didn't get better though as during lunch, Kenma had walked right up to you and dragged you to the gymnasium to eat with him and the other volleyball players. Kuroo was grinning the entire time and you didn't appreciate being asked by one of their first years if you were dating one of them or not.

You do admit that Kuroo and Kenma both freezing at the question before absolutely losing it was hilarious and you laughed and made fun of both of them, even if you didn't quite understand why they had acted like that.

At the end of the day though, you had practically signed your death certificate as the volleyball coach, Coach Nekomata, patted you on the back and thanked you for always being there for Kuroo and Kenma who couldn't stop talking about you during practice.

Kuroo quite literally face planted when he overheard it and Kenma, who was informed of what Coach Nekomata said, had proceeded to begin listing out various ways he could screw over the team.

You, meanwhile, mentally errored at the fact that they talked about you just like you did with them. If they even attempted to talk to your friends from middle school, they would know that they were all you talked about to the point that, "Hopeless" became your nickname for how hopelessly in love you were.

You did not make fun of them over that fact on the way home and they simply ignored it happened all together as Kenma laid across your lap to play games and Kuroo leaned his head against yours as he watched volleyball matches with you on your phone.

So much had changed, but also not. It was confusing to navigate at times, but you managed.

Even if your brain would stop functioning for a moment when Kuroo decided to carry you all the way to the gymnasium because you sprained your ankle. Or when Kenma had made friends with a particularly bright boy named Hinata who gushed about you being the lover Kenma couldn't shut up about.

Both instances, the two were called out by either Coach Nekomata or a fellow teammate, and in either instance they flushed a cherry red, Kenma's more subtle, before raining havoc against the person in question.

At times you wondered if you were being played with emotionally, or if Kenma and Kuroo had finally reached that stage where they couldn't care less about screwing anybody over emotionally.

But whenever you started getting these thoughts, you would escape through your window and run back to the hideout where all of this started. Where promises were made and kept like battle scars. You would probably kill for one of them if they truly asked it of you.

It was a time like this, a few weeks before nationals, where you had holed yourself up in your little hobbit hole.

It had gotten smaller, and you bigger, and so you had to crawl to get through the entrance and you only really fit if you huddled up into some cocoon and pressed your chin to your knees.

Memories carve the muddy walls with finger prints and claw marks, but besides that the room is barren. Once there was furniture, now there is nothing but memories.

You had stayed there for who knows how long as you listened to the sharp blowing of wind and breathed in the fresh scent of incoming rain. The scent wasn't nearly as noticeable in the heart of Tokyo, and if anything the smell of gasoline and cigarettes pervaded every area of the city.

It takes a while to get used to and once you had brought it up to Kenma who had responded that he didn't smell anything, but a few days later he carried cologne around with him everywhere.

Kuroo, bless him, had never even thought about the scent until it was brought up in conversation but recalled when he first moved that he hated going outside because of it. It made you feel bad but he reassured you that the forests around the area didn't have the same scent.

You hug yourself a little tighter as the wind seems to get through the walls of your enclosure. You reminisce too much, but you cannot help it. It feels like your friends have been replaced with strangers and you are being left behind. That perhaps, just maybe, that you aren't catching up fast enough.

It was only a few months ago that Kenma met Hinata Shoyo, but since then he had completely transformed into the boy you have rarely seen since that first day in the forest.

A boy confident in himself and his abilities and someone utterly terrifying given the opportunity. You grinned at him as he told you his plans during nationals and all he did was return it. No words needed to be traded.

However, besides that, they were practically strangers. You couldn't carry a conversation like you used to with them and sometimes it felt as though one day you would just stop talking completely after all of this. That, once you all graduated, they would just be strangers. A stranger, but you knew their favorite colors, that they liked plaid, not polka dots, that when they smiled, one had dimples and the other had fangs, that one could tan enormously easily and the other only got sunburnt, or that when they went to get food Kuroo would take anything with protein and Kenma had to be physically dragged away from the candy aisle. Sometimes, you would wake up in cold sweat from those dreams. Dreams of you walking past them, and them not recognizing you and you barely recognizing them. It feels terrifying to know someone, but still be too far away from them.

Why didn't Yaku or Kai have this problem with Kuroo? They never showed any hesitation when speaking with Kuroo, and yet every time they attempted to include you in their special trio it always felt like you were the odd one out. You saw that Kai could sense it and so often you would excuse yourself from the conversations.

Or with Kenma and Fukunaga and Yamamoto. Yamamoto, while he does tend to scare you, does try and include you on their group activities as you are in the same year, yet you can barely start a conversation with Fukunaga and everything with Kenma is like a dead end. He stares right through you as though you are one of his complex puzzles and sometimes, just sometimes, you wonder if maybe that is all you are to him.

Blinking out of those memories you shuffle yourself further into your home as you finally hear rain being to pour. It's a few drops at first, but quickly it's pouring.

It was hard to call this a home, when only you could really visit it. You didn't see Kuroo's or Kenma's tracks here anymore and the volleyball court you made, although small, was barely ever touched unless you yourself made edits. It was like a house with the lights on, but no one was home. You felt like the nervous dog waiting for the owners that would never return.

You attempt to stand up, realizing the hole you are spiraling into, but quickly bump your head as you duck and check if everything is all right. You don't feel any blood and you made sure not to use rocks to insulate the roof.

You let out a breathy laugh before attempting to go outside. The attempt, although successful, leaves you drenched as you begin to walk through the forest back home.

You have always been good at navigating the natural world. You couldn't handle a GPS for the life of you but if dropped in the middle of nowhere, you would somehow stay alive. Kenma had mentioned once how this was the perfect skill set for a manager, and you weren't quite sure how to respond other than laugh.

However, the further you get from the hideout, the more you doubt your skills. The rain, as heavy as it is, weighs you down like an extra weight and brings a fog you had not previously seen in the forest.

You can barely see much ahead of you and with little else except fear and adrenaline in you, you try and tread as carefully as possible.

Because of the rain, what were once easy slopes to navigate become muddy hills that threaten your own life. More than once do you get a scare as you begin to slide downwards, unable to stop yourself.

In a spout of doubt, you crouch down and huddle in on yourself as you think that maybe, just maybe, you should have waited instead of trying to run away from your feelings and thoughts. That maybe you should get to the bottom of what is going on.

You hear a voice in the distance, the voice unrecognizable and their words garbled amongst the rain, but it's enough to make you continue.

You slide down some muddy rocks as the voice gets closer and you begin to make out the tone. You remember when he was squeaky the first time he laughed but his voice dropped around the last year of middle school.

You are able to make out his figure in all the fog and rain as you get closer to his voice, his noticeable hunched back as he screams your name.

Finally a few feet away, you whistle at him as his head snaps to your direction. You didn't expect it to be so full of worry.

"Need something, Tetsuro?"

His face morphs into one of his rare grimaces as he stomps (though he looks more like he is slipping around then anything else) to you, grabs your shoulder and begins dragging you opposite of where you came.

"I know you don't want to talk for whatever reason but I can't read your mind, Tetsuro," He always gets an odd look on his face whenever you say his name, and you haven't been able to ever really decipher it. It was around the time you joined Nekoma that he began reacting like this, similarly with Kenma whenever you called him by his name as he seemed to freeze up a little before striking you with eyes that fell like they were cutting through you.

Sometimes you were unsure if they ever even liked you to begin with, but Kuroo's father had freaked out when you told him this and said that he couldn't shut up about you before Kuroo dragged you away.

He slows down from his military march as he turns to you, his face a bit more somber, but still frowning, "I was worried when I called and you didn't pick up is all."

Were you guys still doing that? Back before you joined Nekoma you would all keep in contact by the family phone you had downstairs so you could all talk at the same time on the phone, but it had stopped after you joined Nekoma.

"I didn't realize we were still doing that, my bad," You give him a wry smile as he lets out an awkward laugh before continuing ahead.

You two end in an awkward silence as you continue walking and you can't help but feel like he has something to say but can't say it. You wonder if this is the day where he has decided to stop being your friend. You expected it but weren't prepared for it being so early.

You come to a stop as Kuroo lurches forward before turning to you with a blank expression and wide eyes.

"You're going the wrong way."

"Am not."

"Are too."

You raise an eyebrow as his somber expression seems to brighten, "You were always better at this stuff than I was."

"That's because I used to eat dirt."

"We ate dirt together?"

You snort as he gives a grin towards you before continuing onwards.

"Though seriously, this isn't in the direction of your house or mine, the trees in this area are more sparse," You point out as the rain continues to pelt on both of you.

"That's because we are going to Kenma's."

You raise an eyebrow at this as you finally see the boy in question's house a bit of ways away.

"Why?"

His cheerful mood seems to dissipate to a more serious one as your heart hammers in your chest like you are about to receive the death sentence.

You look away from him and continue on, swiping your hand back from his as you make the trek a little ways behind him. You don't dare look at his reaction and you ignore his hands tightening into fists when you do so.

You both are in Kenma's backyard as Kuroo rummages through his pocket and gets out his spare key to unlock the back door. Kuroo, oddly, had a talent at using his father's 3D printer and this was only discovered by you and Kenma when you both were playing games at your house and he had unlocked the door with a 3D printed key because he couldn't wait for you to unlock the door for him.

You always forgot how luxurious his house was, as both of his parents were considerably wealthy while your parents moved to Japan for a better living. The wooden floors were spotless until you both came trudging in knee high with mud, and the soft atmosphere coupled with the luxurious lights that illuminated the darkened house seems to disappear as Kuroo quickly marched into Kenma's kitchen to fish out food.

You yourself relegated to trying to get off as much mud as possible on your pants before inviting yourself in. You could apologize later for getting water on the wooden floors but first you had to find slippers. Upon further inspection they were in the same little room at the front of the house all those years ago. It had been years since you last visited and yet everything was still in the same place it was. You made an effort not to look at Kuroo for too long as he hunched over the microwave as he heated up two meals he found in the freezer.

You hear ruffling upstairs as well as a bit of commotion; as though someone kept falling around and hitting the floor, and you only assumed Kenma figured out you were both here.

However, when he comes downstairs, he is holding a knife as he stares at you two. He quickly puts it down but cusses out Kuroo in the process.

"Did you not tell him?"

Kuroo shrugged, "I assumed he knew I would come here."

"Fuckface," He grimaced at the rooster headed boy as he made a silly, if not stupid face at Kenma that only served to tick him off more.

"Do you know how late it is? What are you doing here?" He set the knife down on the table in front of the kitchen, turning on the lights in the dining room. It was a small, but still fancy, chandelier and when you first saw it Kenma had lamented that it wasn't as big as the one they had in their vacation home. You had slapped his head for that one.

"You say that yet you're awake," Kuroo raises an eyebrow as he opens the microwave and taste tests the food, before grimacing and putting it back in for thirty more seconds.

"We already have established why I stay up late so shut up," He groaned, crossing his arms. His hair was messy, but not to Kuroo's extent. He wore an oversized Misfit's T-shirt with some sweatpants and it was clear that he was playing some game as he still wore his headphones that likely unplugged when he heard the commotion and went to go check. Overall he looked very Kenma.

Kuroo repeats Kenma's words in a mocking tone, high pitched and squealing as Kenma makes a sound that reminds you of when your guardian's car broke down and set itself on fire.

Kenma, finally seeming to realize you are here, widens his eyes. He looks down at himself as he seems to smooth out some permanent wrinkles on his t-shirt as he takes his headphones off and smoothes his hair. He gives you a once over, "You look like someone tried to drag you to hell."

"Thanks," You give him a nod and a thumbs up as you give your own attempt at looking neater. He closes the few feet you had between you as he goes to fixing your drenched hair and you work on wringing out the water still in your clothes. He barely gives a thought as the water gets onto him.

He stops momentarily messing with your hair and you choose to not look at him, fearing the expression on his face.

Kuroo, meanwhile, makes a noise of triumph as he takes one of the microwave meals out of the microwave and sets it on the counter, "Do you want anything Ken?"

"Nah I have food upstairs."

"Of course you do," You laugh as Kuroo makes a snorting noise. Kenma turns to you, betrayal written on his face, "What does that mean?!"

"Whatever you want it to, casanova," Kuroo responds as Kenma gives him a look that could kill, "I could kill you and they would never stop finding your body."

"I think that's enough threats for today," You say, walking away from Kenma as his head snaps to you trailing away to the counter to pick at the microwave meal. It's mac and cheese, "Is this for you, Kuroo?"

"No, the other one I'm cooking is for me."

"He says, as though the microwave is cooking."

"Says the one with a private chef?!" He turns to look at him incredulously.

"He only comes on Mondays and Wednesdays?!" Kenma responds as both you and Kuroo groan.

"Oh I'm the weird one as though you don't constantly go on vacation during the summer."

"It's for my father's work, it's barely a vacation," You roll your eyes, "Shut up, nepo babies."

Kenma's jaw drops as Kuroo smacks his head against one of the cabinets and you almost start laughing as Kuroo drops and lays dead on the floor.

Kenma, ever quick with his expressions, shifts to one of discontent as he stares through you. It was something he had done lately that only added to your stresses. It was as though it was a cat watching a mouse through its enclosure.

"Why did you two really come here? You wouldn't just barge in unannounced for some shelter. Even Kuroo's house is closer."

Kuroo makes a choking noise as you can hear him whispering "It's Tetsuro.." before groaning and getting himself up as he checks on his food.

"Well, uh," He struggles to find words for himself for the first time in years, "I thought it best to explain that when we are all together, y'know?" He said more as a question than a statement.

Kenma takes a second to understand whatever the hell Kuroo is on about, but very quickly his eyes widen and switch swap between you and Kuroo before nodding and going to pull out a chair at the dining room table.

"I thought you wanted to say it, Kuroo?" He raises an eyebrow.

Kuroo shifts his body weight from foot to foot, "I was going to but when they weren't at their house and then I was told they went back to the hideout I kind of got cold feet," He looks anywhere but Kenma.

"Besides, you were always better at words than me."

"That's because I talked with the final boss here," He jabs a finger towards you, "Before I ever interacted with you, idiot."

He laughs, "Fair" He points a fork at Kenma before going back to tend to the microwave.

Did someone die? Is that what this is about? Have they accidentally come in contact with one of your ex's?

You still recall Kuroo getting in trouble because one of your ex's attempted to join practice to get you to quit and he punched him the moment he stepped through the doors. Surprisingly he didn't get kicked off the team because of his importance, but it was Kenma who was close to getting kicked off for whatever reason. He never showed up again though, so you can only thank them.

"Do you want me to just come out and say it?" He says, his gaze finally remaining on you as you feel a sweat fester on the back of your neck.

"Is it bad?"

"Maybe?" He shrugs, much too calm considering Kuroo is so visibly shaking in the kitchen that you can hear the clattering of utensils, "It depends on how you take it."

"Are you finally unfriending me?" You blurt out as you hear Kuroo cuss as something clatters onto the floor and Kenma freezes.

"What?"

"Is that not it?" You ask, sounding more scared than you'd like.

Kenma blinks a few times as he registers what you have said before quickly shaking his head and laughing, "What made you think that?"

"You guys have just been more..." You trailed off trying to find the words to say, "odd? As of late. Like you have some inner joke I'm not a part of."

At this point Kenma is laughing so hard he looks like he's about to fall over in his chair as Kuroo looks so defeated that you wonder if he is a kicked puppy instead of a cat.

"We should've told you sooner then," He finally says as he begins shoveling the microwave meal into his mouth and chewing obnoxiously to Kenma's chagrin.

"Hey we weren't sure how to approach it until the training camp and even then I had to map out how this interaction would go," Kenma rolls his eyes.

"That's because you have to be in control of everything," Kuroo places a hand on his hip with his face full of food.

"Oh don't get me started you piece of shi—"

You clear your throat as Kema immediately hushes down and Kuroo seems to slink back into the kitchen floor and under the counter from where you can see him. Funny enough though you can see his hair sticking out.

"I'll just rip the bandaid off then," Kenma grins. Those malicious grins that promise more pain than anything else, "Me and Kuroo are dating."

Oh.

"That's it?" You breathe a sigh of relief before laughing a little bit, "God that makes a lot more sense."

You begin laughing much harder now as Kenma stares at you like a cat caught in catnip and Kuroo behind cackling.

"I told you it'd be easy!"

"Yeah but that's not the extent of it," Kenma sticks his tongue out in Kuroo's direction as your heart drops again.

"Is this the bad news?" You question.

"Please stop being pessimistic my heart can only take so much," Kuroo groans.

"I mean," Kenma coughs, more nervous this time around, "It could be bad news to you?"

You give him an incredulous look as he smiles, but his hand is very obviously shaking on the table.

"Would you mind joining?"

"what?"

Kenma slams his head down onto the table as Kuroo lets out a fake whine on the kitchen tile that sounds almost like crying.

"Just let me down slowly! Please!" He whines as Kenma groans into his hands.

"You can be so stupid sometimes."

"Says the guy failing all his classes," You groan as his eye slightly twitches.

Kuroo, meanwhile, is complaining in the background as he seems to lament his food that was accidentally dropped on the floor in his dramatics.

"What I am trying to say is that I," Kuroo then yells a we, interrupting Kenma.

"We, want you to join us in the relationship," Kenma emphasizes as the reality of it all hits you.

"You like me?" You blink at him.

"You didn't realize?" He looks slightly worried, "Nekomata said I was coming off too strongly and Lev even made fun of me and you know how dense he is."

Oh. Oh.

Technically, you have won. You have liked them your entire life, but even this feels too sudden.

"Are you sure you're not just saying that to be compulsory heterosexual?" You say, "It's okay to admit that you only like guys—"

"Just shut up for a moment!" He snaps, looking at you, "I have always liked you and only recently did I know Kuroo felt, or feels I guess, the same! We can figure it all out as we go but I need an answer now so I can decide whether to drown myself in ice cream or to bring both of you upstairs!" He finally stops, breathing heavily as he slowly sits back down.

"So," he says, calmly, "Your answer?"

Your jaw goes slack as you look between Kenma and the counter as Kuroo attempts to hide his attempts at eavesdropping even though he is technically apart of the conversation.

"I mean I do like you both back, I always have," You say as Kenma's eyes blow wide and Kuroo jumps onto the counter in his muddy jeans to stare at you like the cat he always is, "but I need to know if you want this or are trying to say in a very odd way that our dynamic will stay the same."

Kenma throws his hands up in the air as Kuroo seems to stand still like a statue and you aren't sure he is breathing.

"Since you have so graciously gotten out of the hidden hells of the bottom cabinets, Kuroo, how about you help me here?" Kenma says, not so calmly as Kuroo makes a poor attempt at cackling but it just comes out as a cough.

Kenma then seems to try and absorb into his chair as he looks up at the illuminated chandelier, "This could've been so much easier if we weren't all cowards."

You tsk, "You two have always been the bold ones, I just was an extra pair of helping hands."

"You say that as though all of our hangouts and memories weren't made because you dragged us out of the house kicking and screaming," Kenma smiles.

It feels weird, to be able to talk about normal things in the very real presence of a possible relationship with the two. They don't feel like strangers right now, and perhaps they never were and you were the stranger.

"Okay!" Kuroo clears his throat as he, not so elegantly, falls over and across the counter and drags out a chair from under the table to sit with you two at the oddly large dinner table.

"We aren't fucking with you I promise and I don't know what we did to make you maybe think that but Kenma is absolutely serious even if he doesn't sound like it." He jabs a particularly nasty stare at Kenma as Kenma gives him the finger.

"I am glad that has been established, Tetsuro, but that doesn't solve the issue of how this would all work. Wouldn't I not encroach on your relationship?" You put your head in your hands as you stare at him. His eyes seem to soften as you hold his gaze before he puts his head in his hands.

"I think an important piece of information we are leaving out is that we have liked you before we even realized we liked each other," Kenma adds as Kuroo makes another very animalistic whine.

"But that's embarrassing."

"There is not a corner of my heart I would not turn over right now to convince them and you know this. Suck it up," Kenma sticks his tongue out at Kuroo as the man in question groans.

Kuroo lifts his head up, "Sorry, off track. We still need a yes or no," He stares at you as you cough up a laugh.

"I mean, yeah, of course, but I am just worried for you guys."

Kenma practically levitates out of his seat and right next to you at the table as his face seems to disfigure itself into the widest grin you have ever seen on his face. Kuroo, right across the table from you, begins clapping as he heads to the fridge; bringing out a large cake that is very messily written "For three!"

"You always thought of other people, Eve with that stupid hideout idea," He pulls you out of your seat as Kuroo attempts to find where Kenma hid candles.

"How long has this been in planning?"

"Since both me and Kuroo realized that we both wanted to kiss you alongside each other," He laughs as he swats Kuroo away from the utensils and goes to another drawer to bring out candles.

You laugh as Kuroo makes an attempt to glomp you, only for you to move out of the way as he almost falls face first on the stove.

"Oh my god look at the time," Kuroo points as it reads 2:43am on it.

Kenma shrugs, "I've seen worse."

"We have a game tomorrow?!" Kuroo almost pulls out his hair as he stares at Kenma.

"It's your fault not waiting until after the game like I said." He tuts as Kuroo turns to you, "Make the bully stop."

You laugh, "Kenma you're being mean."

"I know," he grins, "that's the fun part."

You snort as Kuroo makes a leap at Kenma and Kenma begins swatting him with a towel. It only makes you laugh harder.

Kenma and Kuroo hold a special place in your heart, and you don't think they will be relinquishing their hold on it anytime soon.

[seijohsorbet]

ok but let's talk about the fact that ENNOSHITA is one of the strongest three in HAIKYUU at 35. The other 2 being Daichi and Iwaizumi. HOW DID ENNOSHITA END UP STRONGER THAN PEOPLE LIKE USHIJIMA AND BOKUTO!!! HOW?!?!?!. (Also sorry I've been away for awhile!!)

[liillyliilly]

destiny has to be real kozume kenma x reader content; she runs into him, he feels his brain chemistry change (fluff) 1032 words

[i met you in the crowded city.]

Kuroo always liked to drag Kenma out into the streets of Tokyo, just so that he could experience real life every once in a while. The streets of Tokyo after it rained were always Kenma’s favorite. Because, there were always less people out and he could actually enjoy spending time with his friend. The rain dampens the concrete sidewalks, and the colors of numerous electronic ads flit across the ground.  

It had just rained, but some light drops were still falling from the sky. As Kenma and Kuroo walked, he could hear the way the wet ground sloshed against his shoes. When Kuroo said he needed to pick up some flowers for his girlfriend, Kenma nodded and said that he would stay right by the street sign. Pulling out his game console to beat a new level, Kenma leaned against the tall metal sign. The sounds of his game and the delicate drops of rain around him soothed his anxiety about being outside.  

Even if he didn’t express it often, Kenma had been feeling lonely, that's why he had agreed to spend time with Kuroo in the first place. His loneliness wasn’t that bad, but he did know the root of it. He needed someone to be content with. Shōyō, while he was nice and played games with him, was oftentimes much too intense to relax with. Kuroo, while he was understanding and tried his best to level out his passionate nature, he was just always expecting something more, something exciting. Kenma had started to think that he would be the only person to understand himself.  

All of his thinking though, distracted him. So when someone bumped into him, he was spooked and dropped his console. When he heard the plastic crack, Kenma cringed crouching down to inspect the damage.  

“Oh my goodness! I am so sorry! I totally wasn’t looking where I was going, this is all my fault. Is there anything I can do?” A girl’s voice exclaimed, and she crouched down as well. Kenma tried to avoid eye contact. So he just mumbled out a response.

“It’s fine.” He scooped up all the pieces and shoved them into his hoodie pocket. Standing up and turning his head to the side, he continued, “It’s not your fault. I blend in.”

“Me too.” Her voice was quiet, but Kenma could understand her perfectly. She stood up as well, shoving her hands into her jacket’s front pouch. Kenma resisted for a moment. Would it be worth it to meet a stranger’s gaze head on?

[it must be predestined, right?]

Meeting her eyes was the best decision he had made all week, or probably all month, maybe even all year. His Adam’s Apple bobbed as he tried to find words to say. His hair fell into his eyes when he looked back down. Only to notice that she was holding out his game cartridge.

“Who's your favorite character?” Her voice was a little bit louder, but still held the same hesitance. As if she was holding back from accidently saying a wrong thing.

“What?” His brain short circuited, a pretty girl was talking to him? And she knew about his game?

“I saw that you play, you know, the video game? I play it too.” She had pursed her lips together as she held out the cartridge for Kenma to take. The fact she played it too only made Kenma more interested. Something about her was different from the other girls he knew. She held herself like she was afraid of hurting others, she stood unbalanced because she seemed to be missing a support. Just like Kenma.

The rain started to come down heavier again. Soaking both Kenma and the girl’s hair. Kenma looked around, and found a bench underneath a bus stop nearby.

“C’mon.” He started walking over to the bus stop. When the girl heard the thunder that cracked down she rushed to his side and grabbed his hand tightly. That’s when Kenma’s heart started to race. It was running against itself to get out of his ribcage.  

When they had finally sat down on the dry bench, the girl still hadn’t let go of his hand.  

She introduced herself with a wrinkle on her nose.

“I’m Kenma.” He said, glancing to their connected hands once again.

She let go of his hand, and Kenma missed the feeling of the squeeze she had forced onto his hand.

“You never answered my question. About your favorite character?” She stared outwards, looking at the cars that drove by, water rolling with the tire before crashing down again. The lights of Tokyo blurred and streaked with a scratchy grey filter.

[why don't we know each other?]

They talked for an hour. A perfect hour recorded in their memories. Everything they said was in the same realm, their own little realm. It was as if they were stuck in time, a bubble enclosed them together under that bus stop.  

“Wait seriously? You got lost in Miyagi, but know Tokyo like the back of your hand?” She covered her mouth to hold in the giggles that attempted to crawl out and wrap themselves around Kenma’s entire being.

“Pitiful huh?”

“Realistic. Never pitiful.” She complimented. Her words were like a fresh breath of air. Her words were like getting a new game to mess around with to try and figure out. And Kenma felt like he could spend his entire life playing her game and would never get bored.  

“How have I never met you before?” The words escape before Kenma could understand what they would insinuate.

It was what he wanted to say though, including the insinuation. He wanted to ask any sort of high ethereal being why they had held back from letting him meet her until now. Was it a punishment? But then again, meeting her now was sweeter than it could have been. Meeting at school would have been a missed connection. He met her when he was unaware and vulnerable. Just as it should be.

“It’s fate. That you and I were destined to meet now, and not earlier.” She closed her eyes and shook her head from side to side, “Sorry, that was really cheesy.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Don't be sorry, he thinks, because I think this is destiny too.

Kuroo had taken longer to get flowers, because Kuroo had taken one look at Kenma and Kenma's perfect stranger- and Kuroo had went home. (He could always text Kenma later he reasoned.)

[emmyrosee]

THIS THIS THIS WITH WAKATOSHI https://x.com/sikenpoem/status/1743346644723384750?s=46&t=dMpfL8P3nF90ZRbUCudfZQ

DAWG YOU TRYING TO MAKE ME CRY-

Honestly, he never even thought about it. He liked purple, it was his high school’s main color, green is nice too, but the minute you yell “red,” that’s it.

It’s red.

Red like his best friends hair, red like the strawberries he puts in his morning smoothie, red like the flowers he brings for you on dates, red like the hearts in your eyes that form when you see him.

He eats red apples and uses a red tooth brush, and he’s using it the day you approach him with a chuckle.

“I remember asking you if you liked red, but I didn’t think you’d like it this much,” you teased one of the first nights you’d spent with him. He spits the froth of toothpaste into the sink and looks at you in the mirror.

“What can I say?” He shrugs. “It’s my favorite color.”

He buys his gym bag red, his next car is red, when you somehow convinced him to rescue a dog, he buys it a red collar.

Red. Red. Red is the color of your love, and wakatoshi is so happy you’ve convinced him to let it be his favorite ❤️