#those 10½ old players who keep whining about this

[moons-rising]

really can't post anything that might even slightly make flight rising a more fun game without someone crawling out of the woods crying about ThE eCoNoMyyy 😭 maybe it's the anticapitalist in me but y'all i do not give a shit about the economy of some pixel game on the internet lmfaooo i'm an adult with a job. who gives a shit

[worldsfromhoney]

I’ve been so much on the fence about this that i think i consulted three servers i’m in and had a very reasonable breakdown during an intense convo with one of my best friends.

BEHOLD this is the result of my externalised inner struggle

🥁🥁🥁🥁 *drumroll* 🥁🥁🥁🥁

WiP intro: Imposter Syndrome

A What Shouldn’t Have Been Written short story.

Ok ima face it: idk what to do here so i’ll just wing it and i hope it’s enough 😵‍💫

Status

Will finish the first draft by 10/06

Posting date: 10/09

WiP tags

#wip: imposter syndrome

#wip: wshbw

#oc: del bonnaire

#oc: jo bonnaire

#oc: conn

#oc: mrs. bonnaire

What it on

A horror short story where society has found a way to let people change their skin—literally. And Del Bonnaire has had his eye on a particular one for years. With a dying mother and a grieving dad, what can stop him?

Genres/Themes

horror/thriller

suspense

sci-fi

family

morality and ethics

NOTE: there’s a hella more tags and warnings but they’re available on Inkitt and Wattpad so please look before you read!

Characters

Those who matter anyway ✌️But! They all show up! They all matter!

Del Bonnaire

A daddy’s boy is what Del puts in every social profile he has. And that’s exactly what he is. Recently graduated from university and turned 22 years old. He’s delayed his coming-of-age ‘changing’ for 7 years and has batted away the legal notices. An inch taller than his rugby player of a father, with a lean form (genetics, darling, he’ll say), and rare green-hued eyes—he’s a catch for the skin centre. But there’s a reason he’s delayed and the time has finally come.

Jo Bonnaire

Del’s father and [redacted]. Despite being a sports boy throughout his entire life, barring from going professional, he doesn’t like being put to the spotlight. A devoted husband who attends to his wife’s every want and need, even to the point of predicting it. Very sticky though, as his rugby lads would comment. Recently turned 40 as he got Del early in life. Comes from old money and works as a behind-the-scenes philanthropist. He seems normal enough… right?

Mrs. Bonnaire

Del’s mother and [redacted], and Jo’s wife and [redacted]. She’s a pretty isolated person and neighbours gossip it’s because she got sickly after her first husband’s death. An utter miracle that someone like Jo had taken her in, they’ll also say. No one’s seen much of her family than her father who was seen rowing with Jo one night and never came back. Past schoolmates say she was very different in the past—a political activist against the ‘skin change movement’. Where’s that woman now?

Conn

Del’s childhood best friend. He and his aunt are the Bonnaire’s closest neighbours. Rather than him keeping Del, it’s more of the way around with how others see him always being comforted and apologising after a fight. Like a puppy whining after a particularly slick kitten, the other kids say. Handsome enough in his own right—brunette, grey eyes, dimple—but overshadowed by Del’s dark, tall, and handsome vibe. He doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind much of what Del does anymore.

Dr. Katz

The doctor assigned to Mrs. Bonnaire’s case. One of the most renowned doctors in the hospital and the only one willing to take on the case. Not because of its queerness or impossibility but because of the two Bonnaires who stand guard day and night. You’re just imagining it, the charmed nurses reassure her, but she isn’t buying it. In the end, she’s right not to.

Snippet

NOTE: the snippet here is from the first draft which is crap so you will be reading crap 🥰

I think I give him an answer but it gets lost as a muffled mumble in his shirt. I’m not ready to let go. There’s a beating heart and a chest that rises and falls properly with no help so near that I don’t want to let go.

…and that’s all for now!

[willowfolksong]

it was rare, you were there

- Atsumu Miya x Reader

- NSFW (minors dni)

The problem with love is, that you almost always can tell when it starts, but no one can know when it will end.

You know it, feel it that day, when Atsumu leads you into his home by the hand, to introduce you to his parents, and a teasing but still polite Osamu, who you already know from school.

You smile, polite and nervous, and leave your red scarf on the stairs railing.

You never get it back.

"How do you see yourself in a few years?" you ask him, the two of you laying in bed, staring at the ceiling. You glued some of those plastic starts that shine in the dark, and now it seems like the whole galaxy is in your bedroom.

Atsumu doesn't hesitates "Playin' volleyball"

"That's it?" you ask, eyeing him curiously. He doesn't looks at you, but his right hand moves to grab yours, and squeeze your fingers "That's all you see in your future?"

"What more could I want?"

You don't tell him that you're a romantic at heart, and that you were hoping he would say that he saw you by his side.

He's funny, and charming, and has that goofy playful side that almost every girl loves. Atsumu Miya's popularity skyrockets on his third year of high school, and he gets even more attention than he did before. He's still one of Japan's best young volleyball players, and now he's also much more mature, taller, and with that air of success and promising future that you just feel— crakling around him.

You cheer for him from the stands, laughing quietly with your close friends at his group of personal cheerleaders.

And then he points at you, before doing a serve, and your heart threatens to burst out of your chest.

"You guys are so in love" one of your friends swoons, as you watch Atsumu jump in the air.

You think about that the whole day.

"You look so cute with black hair" you say, smiling fondly at the picture Atsumu's mother is showing you.

Osamu huffs, arms behind his head. He's also in the picture, looking exactly like your boyfriend, both dressed in cute little shorts and dinosaur t-shirts— but you could recognize Atsumu anywhere.

"Doesn't he?" his mother says, gushing over the little polaroid. You nod.

Atsumu rolls his eyes "Yeah, well..."

"He looks like a dork" Osamu cuts him off, and then dodges the pillow Atsumu throws at him.

"If ya two have kids, they will look like this" his mother winks at you, and your cheeks turn red at the same time Atsumu's does.

Osamu only gags "Gross"

You wonder if high school students should be thinking about having kids.

Then you wonder if Atsumu has ever thought about you outside high school.

You're with him on his first actual car ride around town, after the two of you move to a little apartment closer to college.

Atsumu's excited, like a kid before Christmas. The car is old, something both of his parents helped him to buy. He keeps talking about how he'll get a new one, when he becomes a full professional athlete, and you whine and turn the radio on because you seriously can't stand him naming car brands anymore.

Your favorite song is playing, and you close your eyes and start singing with all your heart, ignoring your previous fear about your unskilled boyfriend driving you both into a tree.

"What song is this?" Atsumu yells over the music, and you open your eyes to sing directly at him, invisible microphone in hand, completely ignoring his question. He chuckles, shaking his head "Babe, you're so dumb"

And then he rans a red light, and your singing morphs into a little scream.

"Be careful!" you squeal, looking back to see that you indeed, managed to escape unscathed.

Atsumu laughs, and his hand, as always, searches your own on the seat "I was lookin' at ya! It's your own fault!"

Back at the appartment, and while Atsumu fiddles with his phone, you take the chance to explore a bit on your own. You knew the place was small, but it seems even more so now that all of your things have arrived. Piles and piles of cardboard boxes holding both of your belongings are all over the space.

You hope you can add more to them.

New things, things you and Atsumu find together. Trinkets you can add to your shared bedroom, dresses you'll now wear on new streets and parks, and not in your childhood neighborhood.

There's only one bedroom and a little bathroom. It’s not much, but you're already planning what color you'll paint the walls as you flick the light switch, only to discover that the bulb is broken.

"We won't be having any light in the bathroom," you tell Atsumu, and go to try the bedroom's lights. They won't work either. "Or in the bedroom"

"Or in any part of the house," Atsumu says, leaning on the door frame and phone still in hand. "And our bed isn't here yet either, apparently."

You take a look at the empty space where the bed should be, and let out a long heavy sigh. "Moving sucks."

"But when all this is over we'll be livin' together, and that's just the best," he offers, and even though you agree, you can't help but let the heavy feelings that come with the moving and everything that is still missing at the moment take a hold of you.

Walking past Atsumu, you stand where the kitchen and the dining area would be, once everything is set up. There's a small island counter with three boxes of clothes on top. You go to try and open the door of one of the little kitchen cabinets, and the hinge immediately gives away with a creak, and leaves you with the cabinet door in one hand. You whine and glance over at Atsumu, still watching you from the bedroom's doorstep, and looking incredibly amused.

"Those must be old as hell"

"Atsumu, everything is a mess," you flail your arms at the dozens of boxes and the dust and the missing furniture and the broken bulbs, and finally leave the broken door on top of the kitchen isle when Atsumu walks up to you and takes you in his arms.

You look out the window over his shoulder, and see that the sun has disappeared, darkness having fallen over the city.

"So what if the lights don’t work? Don't we have some candles? And our phones?" he murmurs into your ear. “And we don't even need this freakin' cabinets for now. At least this is our own place" he adds, pressing a kiss to your neck. "That's enough, right?"

You snort, but hug him back a little tighter than usual. “Okay, okay, but I do wish that we had a bed and a TV to watch something on"

Atsumu pinches your side, making you yelp and immediately try to escape, but his arms snake around your waist and keep you in place

"Don't complain that much babe!"

You chuckle, and manage to get free and dodge another pinch to go open the refrigerator. The yellow glow of its light bathes the soon to be completely dark space.

"We can use this to light up the room," you say, and Atsumu laughs and grabs you by the hips to pull you into a dance, while humming the song you were singing in the car “There’s no food in it anyways.”

So the refrigerator door stays open while you twirl and spin around the kitchen, dodging boxes as you go. "Everythin' is goin' to be fine, babe," Atsumu reassures you, spinning you around once more "Before we know it, this place will look great”

He kisses you when the dance leads you to the living room, a light feathery touch of his lips on yours that soon becomes a passionate exchange after he slides his tongue in your mouth. You moan and hold onto his jacket, and he lets go of you for a moment to look into your eyes.

"What do ya say about tryin' out the new apartment, huh?" he drawls, and you know he's not just joking when one of his hands starts to slowly crawl under your shirt.

"We literally don't have any furniture here," you tell him between kisses, but Atsumu only shrugs and dips his head to kiss you behind your ear. You can't help but tremble in his arms

"That’s never stopped us before."

It's an all too familiar dance, whenever Atsumu makes you his. He trails kisses over your neck and down your chest as he undresses you, and when you're lying on the floor, his brown eyes and teasing smile your only sight, you're already half naked and trying to wiggle out of your pants and underwear. He helps you, leaving open mouthed kisses down your legs and thighs and stopping to play with your folds over your already soaked panties, until you grab his neck and bring him up to kiss you again.The feeling of his skin against yours still fills you with the same familiar warmth that did a couple of years ago, when you were still high school students trying to be quiet on your parents house.

You shudder with excitement when he finally gets rid of his clothes and lets you take his cock in one of your hands, his mouth descending to play with your nipples.

He gives one a particular hard suck and then looks at you, his chin resting on the valley of your chest "Want to ride me, babe?"

You answer by getting on top of him and grinding against his cock, your fluids coating his thighs.

And when he sheats into you, groaning when the warmth of your walls surrounds him, you know you're home— tangled up with Atsumu Miya in the middle of an empty apartment, with everything you call your own still in boxes around you and only the refrigerator light shining for you. Being with Atsumu is all that matters for you.

He gets scouted by the MSBY Jackals as soon as he enters his last year of college. While you're still pondering, and thinking, and wondering if you're good enough to work in something Literature related.

You suppose it's not much of a surprise.

If Atsumu's ever had something clear, that was volleyball.

Not you.

Not you.

Not you.

"And so I think that I could become a regular soon, ya know?" he says, excitement twinkling in his eyes, and one of his legs bouncing uncontrollably under the table. "God, I just can't wait"

"I'm proud of you, 'Tsumu" you tell him, smiling softly at your wine.

"I always told ya I would make it, babe" the waitress comes around again, asking if you want more wine. You take the whole bottle. "Wanna hear about what Bokuto told me they were sayin'?"

You pour a generous amount of alcohol in your cup before noding, smile still in place.

Your birthday celebration remains forgotten, in favor of every little detail about the MSBY Jackals Atsumu wants to share.

"I like your hair this way better" you say, and Atsumu chuckles, bringing you closer to him and tangling his feet with your own under the covers "You look really handsome"

"Yeah?"

You lean forward and kiss his nose, your chin coming to rest on one of his arms "I can't believe we're still together, after all this time"

"Why?"

You shrug, and your eyes flicker down to trace idle shapes on his skin "I just thought... never mind"

"Hey, babe" Atsumu says, and you look back up to find him smiling "Don't say stuff like that"

"I love you" you whisper, honest and hopeful.

He kisses you goodnight and holds you tight against his chest.

The beats of his heart remind you that you've never heard him say it back.

"It's just a dumb party! Why are ya gettin' so worked up for this?" he yells, throwing his hands in the air. He's been sitting on the edge of the bed for far too long now, and you don't know what expresion he has on his face anymore.

You're still on the same spot, the covers pooling around you, eyes on his back.

It's 3 a.m

"I didn't even knew there was a party" you whisper, and he looks back over his shoulder at your sudden change in tone. You were yelling too, after all "You didn't tell me"

"I didn't knew. Found out today"

"That's not true" you say, and drop your gaze to your hands. They're shaking "Akaashi told me this was planned for weeks"

"Of course Akaashi told ya" Atsumu huffs, and goes back to bed once more, his back still to you. The space between the two of you has never been bigger "I don't wanna keep talkin' about it"

You get up and go to sleep on the couch.

The next morning, he wakes you up with a kiss, a hug, and the promise that nothing like that would happen again.

"I just didn't think it would be your type of thing, babe"

Soon, his entire life seems to become not your thing. He always comes home late, and the parties only grow in number. Accompanying him is even worst to stay home, you realize, when you start to feel that Atsumu doesn't really seems interested in your company.

He's laughing, and shaking hands, excited for a new future that slowly but surely seems to be getting far and far away from you.

Akaashi follows you to the bathroom in one of those events, a gala for something you can't remember, because Atsumu never explained. He just said the rest of the team would be there, and that it was important to go.

As always was.

"Are you okay?" Bokuto's boyfriend asks, handing you a tissue.

You smile, wiping away your tears without fear of ruining your makeup anymore.

Everything's already ruined.

"Not really, no"

"Kou has asked about you" he tells you, squeezing your shoulder. "Long time not seeing you and all. Wants to say hello"

"And my boyfriend?" you ask. Akaashi tries really hard — and miserably fails— to not look pitiful "Did my boyfriend ask where I went to?"

"Actually ... I think he left"

Seven years are destroyed by a text. It's late at night, and Atsumu's away on a trip with the team. You don't know if it's simply much more early where he is— if he can see the sun, while you wail under the moon— or if he thought it was a good idea to break your heart at 4 a.m

Your heart, and everything you built together.

You move out of the apartment. As quickly as you can as well.

Everything reminds you of him.

Akaashi takes you in, and it's kind enough to let you stay in your bedroom for three days straight, giving no sign of being alive.

Atsumu's everywhere.

In the scent that lingers on your clothes, in the marks he left on your neck the last time you two were together. On the TV, of course, and on the magazines Akaashi tries to hide before you cam see them.

He's the air you breathe, and you're suffocating.

"Why don't you try to write it down?" Akaashi suggests one day, and you look up at him with a frown "It helps. And you're very good at it"

"I don't know"

"You've been helping at the publishing house enough to know how to work your way around a book" at your incredulous stare, your best friend chuckles, scratching his chin "I mean, I'm not suggesting you write a book about your breakup. I'm just saying that writing something down might help. And maybe that could become something else later"

That night, Atsumu calls you for the first time since that devastating text, to tell you that he's moving, and he's sending you your stuff to the place you're staying.

That he thought it was best to be honest, and that you heard about his new place from him.

You don't thank the cruel honesty.

And the next day, you start writing.

5 years pass

The book signing event is in full glory, and you laugh and shake the hand of everyone who approaches you. There's thousands of people inside and outside the little bookstore, the one you chose because it was the first place where you bought your first actually book.

Akaashi is there, by your side, finally having been able to edit an actual novel and not a manga, thanks to you.

Many winters have passed, since the events that lead to the little book you have on your hands, and that you sign happily for the girl that, in tears, confesses to you that she's afraid of having to part ways with her partner.

You pat her hand, smile, and tell her that everyone needs to embrace their own future. First and foremost.

Just like Atsumu, who still wears your old scarf, on his way to the Olympics.

He did it first.

And now you did it yourself.

🧣 RED Love Story Collection

With this work, we come to the end of my little tribute to Red (Taylor's version), one of my favorite albums of all time. To everyone who commented, liked, and reblogged my works, thank you from the bottom of my heart ❤ I'm happy I got to do this little thing, and that even if you don't share my taste in music, you got to enjoy a bit of the angst, and the fluff, and everything in between.

I hope you keep finding happiness in my next works.

I'll be updating my fic the miya conundrum soon, and more projects will come.

Thanks again.

Love,

Willow ❄

Requests are open! ❄

[kiyosamu]

back up.

---♡---

pairing: rintaro suna x female reader

genre: dark, angst, (slight) enemies to comfort, some comedy in the beginning. // one shot, 3.9k words

synopsis: being the younger sister of the miya twins definitely has its advantages and its... disadvantages. sure, it comes with all of the teasing from both them and their friends, but it gets more serious when people hold grudges on them and try to take out their anger on you.

content warnings: descriptions of assault, threats, sexual assault (no penetration), violence, injuries

---♡---

“Osamu!” You screeched, attempting to push your older brother off of you. “Get him off!”

Atsumu had tackled you to the ground and was sitting on your back, cackling with satisfaction as he pinned you down.

“I can’t help ya.” Osamu smirked as he walked by. He sat on the couch adjacent to you and Atsumu with an amused glimmer in his eyes. “Shouldn’t have eaten his pudding.”

“Why do you care if I eat his pudding?!” You growled, thrashing around under Atsumu to get some kind of leverage while he sat on you with all of his weight, rendering your limbs useless.

“If you eat his pudding, then he eats mine.” Osamu shrugged, “And I hate it when he does that.”

“Take it up with him! I just grabbed whatever was closest. You guys are so weird with your labeled food!” You tried to throw a punch at Atsumu and he caught your fist easily, snickering when you let out a loud whine. “Atsumu, get OFF!”

“No can do, kiddo.” He grinned, “Ya know what happens when you eat our food.”

“I’m gonna tell mom.” You mumbled.

“That’s dirty. Don’t bring mom into this.” Osamu interrupted and you shot a death glare at him.

“Stop involving yourself! I don’t need your commentary.”

“Don’t be such a tattle tale.” Atsumu teased, finally easing up on you and taking a bit of the weight off of your back. You gasped dramatically as you could finally take a full, deep breath.

“Thank you, god. You’re heavy.” You said quietly, deciding to fully submit and just lay down on the living room floor.

“Did you just call me fat?!” Atsumu gasped, crawling over to your face to look you in the eyes.

“Yes.” You nodded. Atsumu immediately turned to Osamu, who burst out laughing at his offended expression.

“Laugh it up, ‘Samu. If I’m fat then so are you.” Atsumu muttered as he finally stood up to take a seat next to Osamu on the couch.

“I can’t stand either of you.” You mumbled, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at them.

“Why’s baby Miya throwing a temper tantrum?” A familiar, monotone voice was coming from the entry way. You hadn’t even heard him come in.

“None of your business, Suna.” You glared at the tall boy. He responded with a crooked smirk while he walked in with his hands plunged deep in his pockets.

Suna was over at your house almost every day. He also teased you as much as your brothers did, if not more.

“Jeez, what’s with the attitude?” He snorted, “You sound like Atsumu. I swear you’re triplets.”

Suna jumped over the back of the couch and plopped down between the twins. You sat up, looking at the three of them for a second before getting up and retreating to your room.

“Aw, come on baby Miya. Where are you going?” Suna called after you while you walked down the hallway.

“I need to get ready. I’m going out tonight.”

You retreated to your bedroom and sat down at your vanity. Before you could even pull out a hair brush, Osamu had burst into your bedroom.

“Where ya going?” He asked, leaning against the doorway.

“Out?” You replied, getting up to sift through your closet for something to wear.

Your friend had set you up on a blind date tonight. Your mom had held your brothers back a year and since you were only 10 months apart, you were all in the same year. This meant you all had the same classmates, knew all of the same people, and they were constantly in your business.

When your friend had told you about this guy, he sounded too good to be true. He had gone to another school that was a bit further away, but since you had all graduated a few months prior you figured a bit of distance wasn’t that big of a deal. After all, you were all adults now.

“Out where?” Atsumu asked, pushing the door open all the way and standing against the other side of the frame.

“On a date…” you muttered. The moment you said that, your brothers came in and promptly sat on your bed.

“Where are you going?”

“With who?”

“Where did you meet him?”

“How old is he?”

“Is he picking you up?”

“How long have you known him for?”

“Oh my god.” You groaned, pointing at your door. “Can you guys get out? I need to get ready. Why are you asking so many questions?”

“Believe it or not, kiddo, we just want to make sure you’re safe.” Osamu said, standing up and walking over to pat you on your head.

“Ugh, ‘Samu, you guys don’t have to treat me like a kid still. I’m an adult now, you know.” You said, crossing your arms.

“But you’ll always be our little sister.” Atsumu smiled. “Mom can’t keep track of all of us all the time. So we need to do it for her.” His words were genuine. Even though the three of you bickered and teased each other, you were protective of each other. You knew your brothers would do anything for you.

You’d never tell them, but you’d do anything for them, too.

“If anyone needs keeping track of, it’s you two.” You smirked. Atsumu rolled his eyes and Osamu shrugged you off.

Your brothers tried to pry more information out of you, but you only told them the bare minimum. After all, you barely even knew anything. You didn’t even know his name.

“So? Where’s she going?” Suna asked as the twins came back into the living room. He was sprawled out on the couch and flicking through the tv channels.

“That restaurant downtown. The one a few bus stops before your house.” Atsumu said with crossed arms. “She won’t let us drive her.”

“I’ll take the bus with her.” Suna shrugged, “It’s on the way, so I’ll make sure she gets there safely.”

“Good. Then you can tell us who she’s meetin’ there.” Osamu smirked.

Whether or not Osamu had asked, Suna was planning on finding that out regardless.

“Call is if you need anythin’!” Atsumu called to you as you walked to the door.

“We’ll come! Just call us, okay?” Osamu added.

“I’ll be fine, but thanks. I’ll text you when I’m on my way home.” You said loud enough for them to hear you in the other room. “Love you.”

“Love ya!” They replied in unison.

—

“Are you sure you’re not just spying on me?” You mumbled just loud enough for Suna to hear you from the seat behind you.

“Just decided to go home, baby Miya.” He replied, leaning forward. “Why? Do you want me to spy on you?”

“No!” You turned around and squinted your eyes at him. He looked back at you with a playful smirk and then went back to paying attention to his phone.

You got off the bus and hesitated for a moment, half expecting Suna to get off after you.

Except he didn’t.

You sighed, feeling the nerves creeping up and realizing you really were all alone now. Meeting a man you didn’t know, and unsure of what to expect.

You looked around and pulled out your phone to check the message from your friend again to refresh yourself on the characteristics of your blind date.

Dark hair, about 5’10, dark green eyes, ah-

“Miya, is it?” A man fitting the exact description was standing in front of you, a rose in hand and suspicious smirk across his lips.

“Yes, sorry, what’s your name?” Your voice was trembling and you had no idea why. You chalked it up to nerves, but it might’ve been the uneasiness you’d felt when you made eye contact with him.

“Daishou Suguru.” He said melodically. He handed you the rose and lightly pressed his hand to your lower back. “Shall we go inside? I have a table for us.”

You nodded, walking inside with him.

——

“So, Miya, any relation to those twins?” He asked, leaning in with his chin on his palm. He stared at you intently as if he wanted to soak in every word you were about to say.

“Oh, yeah. They’re my brothers.” You smiled. Even though they irritated you, you always liked to talk about them. You were proud of your brothers and all of their accomplishments, and talking about them was easier than having to come up with things to say about yourself.

“Ah,” Daishou nodded, thanking the server as she passed your dishes to the two of you. “Those two are real shit talkers, huh?”

“Yeah,” you laughed, a bit too casually for the occasion and realized you’d never even heard this guy’s name prior to tonight. “Wait, why do you say that?”

You were familiar with pretty much all of the volleyball players that your brothers had faced off against. Inarizaki’s own team were like family, but the other teams were around so often you’d gotten to know quite a few of the players from other schools just by going to the games and tournaments.

“Played against them once.” Daishou mumbled, the previously warm expression in his eyes was gone. “I don’t know which one I hate more. The mouthy setter or the spiker with the ego.”

You got goosebumps when he spoke these words. These weren’t normal rivalry grudges. This sounded like pure, unprecedented hatred.

You started to feel uncomfortable.

You hummed in acknowledgement. You weren’t sure how to reply, but you wanted him to know you’d heard him and were listening.

“So, how are you going to make it up to me?” Daishou asked. You froze, looking up at him.

His previously cold expression was warm again, cheeks round with a big smile. “I’m kidding.”

“Oh,” you giggled nervously and decided to focus on eating your dinner.

The rest of the evening went by okay. Little comments like that would have you unsure if there were ulterior motives, but when you’d try to look into it you’d see a happy smile from your date. Maybe he really was just joking, and was nervously trying to make you laugh.

When it was time to go, Daishou paid for the both of you and you left the restaurant together.

It was dark outside and pouring rain. You sighed, looking down the street at the empty bus stop. The bus wouldn’t be coming for another 20 minutes.

“Let me wait with you for the bus.” He smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist again. “I wouldn’t want you out here all alone.”

You reluctantly accepted but tried to keep your distance. While his arm was around you, your arms were crossed and you were trying to stay as far from him as possible. Something was off, and you wanted to get as far away from him as quickly as possible.

You sent your brothers a quick text to let them know which bus you’d be on.

“Let’s wait over here. Out of the rain.”

Before you could reply, he grabbed your hand and yanked you down a small alley. It was covered by the overhead of the buildings roof, but was pitch black.

“I had a nice time tonight.” Daishou purred, pressing his body against you and trapping you against the cold brick wall.

“Yeah, me too…” You said quietly.

Only a few more minutes.

Daishou leaned down, trailing his hand up your chest and wrapping his long fingers around your throat. Your breath hitched and you felt tears well up in your eyes. You knew something was wrong. You knew something was going to happen. Your gut feeling was never wrong.

You tensed up, preparing to punch him the moment you felt pressure from his fingers. Instead of choking you, however, his hand rested gingerly on your skin and he leaned down to kiss you.

You kissed back, completely uninterested but not wanting him to know that.

“So, you are easy.” He smirked against your lips. He grabbed your hands and held them against the wall. His tongue started to force its way into your mouth and as you tried to break away, his body pressed into you harder, making you unable to move.

“Please stop,” you whimpered, “I don’t- I don’t want this.”

“Just relax.” He dug his fingers into your wrist, holding both of your hands together with just one of his, and using his free hand to move down your body and fondle your chest.

“Daishou- I-“ you gasped when he bit down on your neck. It didn’t feel good at all, and was just a swearing pain.

“You know, it really is a shame that you’re related to those two.” He muttered against your skin. “You’re a pretty girl. Probably would’ve liked you had your shitty brothers not have been such dicks.”

“Please, please just get off-“ You sniffled. You fought your brothers all the time, so why couldn’t you get him off? Why were you tensing up? Why were you crying? Just push him off, just push and run.

“Shut up.” He muttered. He slipped his hand into your pants and you let out a sob.

“No, no! Get off of me! Stop!” You were crying now, your voice getting louder as you attempted to break from his hold.

Unfortunately, he was just too strong for you. He smacked you across the face and pressed his palm to your mouth.

“I told you to shut up.” He growled. “Blame the twins for this.”

You were sobbing now. Completely terrified as this man assaulted your body in this dark alley and all you could think about was how badly you wanted to get out of there. How badly you wished your brothers had spied on you, how much you wanted them to protect you in that moment.

Daishou glared at you as your wails got louder, pulling back and slapping you across the face so hard you thought you were seeing stars.

“That’s what happens when stupid girls like you don’t listen. Now be quiet!”

Your vision was blurred and dark and you thought you were about to pass out when you felt the weight of his body completely lifted off of you.

You immediately felt relief, not in the form of safety by any means but you felt like you could somewhat breathe again. The blow he’d given you to the head had you feeling dizzy and you sunk to the ground against the wall.

“You fucking-“ *whack*

“piece-“ *whack*

“of shit!” *whack*

You squinted your eyes open at the familiar voice. The same voice that had annoyed you earlier that afternoon. The voice that immediately gave you a sense of safety in that dark alley.

“Suna..?” You barely managed to squeak out. You were sure he didn’t hear you considering you could barely hear your own voice.

“You’re going to regret this for the rest of your life.” Suna spat, landing another punch directly to his face. “If you have issues with someone, take it up with them like a fucking man.” He growled. “Instead of preying on their little sister. You’re pathetic.”

Suna stood up off the ground and all you could do was watch through squinted eyes and your knees pulled to your chest.

He pulled something out of his pocket, it shined under the street lamps and you weren’t sure what it was. He grabbed Daishou by the collar of his shirt, forcing him to stand up before pressing the object against his throat.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t just kill you right here.”

You closed your eyes, covering your face in your arms when you heard Daishou start to sob. He sounded like you did a few minutes ago.

“I’d go to jail for her, no questions asked. Trust me when I tell you that I won’t hesitate.”

Suna was much bigger than him. Stronger. Taller.

“Hey,” Suna growled, pushing him against the brick wall. Daishou looked as light as a rag doll when Suna was throwing him around. “Answer me when I’m talking to you.”

“Please- I don’t- I’m sorry-“ Daishou choked out.

Suna laughed. A completely genuine laugh that made your skin crawl.

“Are you? Are you sorry?”

You looked back up at the two men, closer to you now and you could see that the object Suna had against his throat was a knife.

“Suna, wait-“ You tried to say to him, but your voice was still shaky and quiet.

Daishou was sobbing now, tears flowing from his eyes and wails ripping from his throat.

“Not so tough when you’re the one on the receiving end, huh?” Suna glared, putting his knife back in his pocket and throwing Daishou back onto the ground.

“Get the fuck out of here before I change my mind.” Suna said in a dark, low tone you hadn’t heard from him before. “And if you ever come near her again, I really will kill you.”

Daishou scrambled to his feet, holding his head and trying to stop the bleeding on his face that was surely from one of the rings Suna was wearing on his fingers.

You trembled against the wall, staring at Suna’s back as he watched Daishou leave. As soon as he was out of eyesight, he quickly turned to you and crouched down.

“Hey, it’s okay.” His voice softened, his gaze was kind and he hesitated before touching you. “Can I help you up? Can you stand?”

You nodded weakly and he crouched down, putting his arms under yours and standing you up. You could feel your legs wobbling and held onto his arm for support.

“Ugh,” He sighed, the pain in his voice coming through when he saw the true damage that’d been done to you. His hands carefully put you back together as best he could. He buttoned your shirt and pants back up, and shrugged off his jacket to put it on you instead.

You grabbed onto the sleeves and pulled them over your hands. It was even bigger than your brothers’ jackets, and you sunk into the soft material trying to grasp onto any little piece of comfort you could get.

Suna picked you up and held you against his chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he supported you from under your legs.

“How did you know where to find me?” You asked, your voice still quiet and strained.

“They told me what bus you were taking home so I came to make sure you got on okay. When it came and left without you I got worried and looked around, and then I heard you crying.” Suna let out a stressed out breath, “You know, I really would’ve done it.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” You said, closing your eyes. You couldn’t even process what had just happened and didn’t know what you would’ve done if Suna wasn’t with you right now.

——

Suna’s house was only down the road, and you agreed to go there and get cleaned up before heading back home.

“Here,” Suna handed you a pair of comfortable pants and a t-shirt. “They’ll be way too long on you, but it’s better than your soaking wet clothes you’re wearing now.”

“Thanks…” you accepted the offer, stepping into the bathroom to change.

When you came out, Suna had changed too, but his eyes widened with shock when he saw the extent of your injuries.

He swore under his breath and approached you. When he reached out and touched your neck, his cool hand soothed the sting of the deep bite Daishou had embedded in your neck.

“Can’t believe he fucking bit you.” Suna’s voice was so quiet he was practically whispering, and you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or just thinking out loud. He trailed his hand around your throat and pressed his fingers on the deep bruises forming from when you’d been choked.

“That helps,” you sighed, leaning into his touch. Suna pulled his hand back as if he wasn’t even aware he’d been touching you.

“What do you want to do now? Should we call Osamu and Atsumu? Want me to take you home?” He placed his hands on your shoulders and continued looking you over. Suna brushed your hair out of the way, inspecting your face closely and grunting when he looked straight on at the black eye starting to appear.

You winced when his thumb grazed over the side of your head and he immediately pulled back.

“You were hit really hard. You should go to the hospital.”

You shook your head. “I don’t… I don’t want to go anywhere. Not right now, anyway.” You stepped over to his bed, sitting on the edge. “Can I just lie down?”

Suna nodded and pulled the blankets open, gesturing for you to crawl into his bed. He pulled the blankets on top of you and patted your arm.

“I’m just going to go into the kitchen to get a glass of water. I’ll shut the light off so you can rest a bit.”

The moment you couldn’t feel his presence in the room anymore, your mind travelled back to where you were earlier that night. Being attacked in a dark alley and suddenly you were feeling suffocated.

You sat up, gasping for air and Suna ran in, turning the light on and sitting next to you.

“Its okay, it’s okay,” He murmured, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you into him. He stroked your hair and let you cry out your fear as long as you needed to.

“I don’t…” You sniffled, “I don’t know what happened. When you left I just felt so scared all over again.”

“I’m sorry.” He said quietly, pressing his cheek against the top of your hair.

“Please don’t leave me alone.”

Suna nodded and stood up to go turn the light off again.

“Wait, where are you going?” You felt the panic start to take over again when the bed dipped down beside you.

“I’m right here.” His voice was kind. The Suna you’d known to always tease and annoy you had been replaced by something you could only describe as being your safety net.

Maybe this side of him was always here, and you just hadn’t ever noticed.

You laid back down beside him, moving close and nuzzling into his chest just like you had when he was carrying you. He wrapped his arms around you and softly trailed his hand up and down your back.

“I’ve got you, okay?” He whispered, “You’re safe with me. I promise. Just try and get some rest and we can worry about everything in the morning. You’ve been through enough tonight.”

You nodded and felt the relief wash over you. You knew you had a lot to deal with tomorrow, but having Suna by your side made it seem a little less scary.

Thinking back, he always was by your side. He would defend you when the twins would get too rough, and was definitely guilty of giving guys an intimidating glare when they’d try to hit on you.

You sighed, soaking in the feeling of his warmth.

You knew that from them on, you wanted nothing more than to be on his side.

And for him to stay on yours.

[prairieprayer]

legit not a dream fan though i like some of the other minecraft lets players (like wilbur and tommy, they can be pretty wholesome), but i still think some of the anti mcyt things i’ve seen floating around are nuts. like lets go through a few

- “dream is an alt-right industry plant, not a real indie creator who boomed in popularity during the pandemic” what the hell are you on. he’s just a dude

-  all the dream smp players being lumped together with dream by sheer proximity (are they really out here saying someone like that kid tubbo_ is a racist alt-right ablest nazi for just being a player of the smp? really? that’s the hill you want to die on? to what end, even??)

- posting a pic of a random dude and claiming it was a doxed photo of dream, so now a bunch of anti-dream posters on twitter are fat shaming and making fatphobic comments at some random guy because hahaha it’s dream so it’s okay right? (it wasn’t dream...)

- saw a post a few min ago saying they wish they could shoot anyone who shipped the “minecraft white boys,” which i assume is meant to mean george and dream. charming

- caring about content creator’s comfort levels until the content creator’s comfort level is “i’m okay with shipping and even NSFW” then suddenly it’s just icky and yucky and wrong (and sometimes even throwin’ in a nice lil comment about their mental health so that’s fun). gotta pick one bud. or just admit you were pretending to care about their comfort levels until you learned it didn’t line up with your opinions on RPF

- criticizing literally any mcyter for posting support to their lgbtq fans, because you’re treating them like a brand and not just random dudes who have high follower counts. sorry, but 17 yr old tommyinnit posting about how he supports the lgbtq community for pride month is not the same as target selling rainbow shit for marketing reasons, and you know it

- looking at these youtubers like corporations at all. they’re just. dudes. you probably don’t think the same thing about your fav youtubers do ya. nah. just these guys

- whining about fans putting these figures on a pedestal, but then you, sweet and tender anti mcyt posters, acting surprised when one of the mcyters does or says something distasteful or scummy. what are you expecting. i’m tired of dream wiping his ass the wrong way making the news. and if you are too then stop being surprised and making like 10 tweets about this shit. chalk it up to “he’s a dumbass white american from florida, that checks out” and leave it be

- i keep being recommended at damn 28 minute long video with a title calling that animated video for mask an abomination. you guys really out here making a nearly 30 min long video ripping apart a bunch of kid’s art huh. make fun of dream’s direction as you will but the art itself? i feel bad for those kids. quit bullying them and shitting on their art because you hate dream good lord

no one has said it yet that i’ve seen so i’m just gonna say it. mcyt is popular af now and we all know it’s fans are mostly girls and children. like every other piece of shit torn to shreds by a community who hate it (like, say, undertale), i’m pretty sure this is just the new target of cringe culture. there are plenty of things to criticize dream over, but all these shitty takes lumping in the entirety of mcyt and its fans with literally one creator, when rather there are dozens and dozens of creators, is a load of sketchy shit and you know it. 

you are using your hatred of dream to justify hating every other minecraft content creator and i’m convinced that, under it all, your lack of critical thinking skills is far removed because it’s yet again a fandom of “cringy” kids. quit trying to fool yourself and those around you :P

[mochiwritesstuff]

STREAM GIRL NEXT DOOR!!! This one's not really dating wise so sorry if that's what you wanted, I'm sorry. Nennerb = Brennen but backwards and Y/N/B = Your name backwards... ENJOY!!!!!!

*******

Y/N: Brennen

Y/N: Brennen

Y/N: Brennen

Y/N: BrenNEN!

Y/N: BRenNeN!

Y/N: Nennerb!!!

Nennerb T: WhAt?

Y/N: I'm hungry :P

Nennerb T: Go ask Corey to help you. He's your crush, not me ;)

Y/N: -_-

Nennerb T: You love me

Y/N : >:(

Nennerb T: What do you want me to do about it?

Y/N: Gimmie GOOD food hack

Y/N: You always have some

Nennerb T: Here, try this one *HaCk*

Y/N: Thx, LARB YOU!

Nennerb T: Larb?

Y/N: It's a Spider-Man joke :'(

Nennerb T: I'm not the nerd that you are :P

Y/N: I'm not a nerd -_-

Nennerb T: Didn't you friend call you Stark the other day?

Y/N: No....

Y/N: I gotta go try the hack now BYE! I LOVE YOU 3000!!!

Nennerb T: Love you 3000

***

"Brennen, no!" I laughed. I started a series on my channel where I read fanfictions about my friends with them.

"But that's what "I" did!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms up jokingly.

"Yeah, but we're not reenacting them." I said, smiling.

"Just reading them is boring." he said, changing his position so that he could sit upside down.

"Wait for me!" I giggled, turning myself upside down. "I'm gonna get dizzy if I read like this." Brennen and I laughed before fixing ourselves.

"Now read the next line." Brennen said eagerly. I laughed once more then continued.

***

Brennen's POV

"I'm tired." Y/N said, yawning.

"Then sleep." I said.

"It's too cold." she whined.

"Come here." I said, patting them spot next to me. She moved to the spot and snuggled into my side. I pulled a blanket over the both of us and wrapped an arm around her.

"Night Brennen." she whispered, her eyes already closed.

"Goodnight N/N." I whispered back, gently kissing her on the head. I rested my head against her and closed my eyes, sleep consuming my body.

***

Y/N POV

"What's your relationship with each other?" Brennen read out. He gave me a look then faced the camera again, pretending to be serious. I quickly got the hint and did the same.

"You know, this is not how I planned it to go but --I sighed-- Brennen and I have been together for about 10 months now." I lied, resting my head on his shoulder. We stayed like that for a minute. We couldn't hold it anymore, both of us breaking into laughter he spoke

"We're just kidding, we're just best friends."

"More like siblings that get along really well." I added.

"Besides, she likes Cor-" I cut him off by jumping on him and covering his mouth.

"Brennen! Shut the fuck up!." I yelled but was laughing. "You guys heard nothing." Brennen smiled at me and pulled me into a hug.

"We can just bleep it out." he said. I nodded before reading the next question.

"Y/S/N or Brolby?" I read, smirking. "Choose wisely. For those who don't know either, which you should but whatever. Y/S/N is me and Brennen and Brolby is Brennen and Colby."

"Definitely-

***

Brennen! Brennen!" I called out, sprinting towards said man. "I have something for you." I handed him a envelope.

"What is this?" he asked.

"Just open it." he pulled out the cards held inside.

"Start Game." he said quizzically.

"Keep going." I encouraged.

"Select first name: Y/N, Y/N/B, N/N. Well, you chose for me." Brennen said, setting it down.

"I know they're like that, just keep going." I said.

"Select Relationship status: Single or Taken, Status selected as Taken." he read, flipping to the next. "I'm so confused."

"Nennerb..." I whined.

"Y/N/B..." He copied. "fine."

"Thank you."

"Select a partner: Colby B, Brennen T, Corey S. Partner selected as Corey S." he continued, putting down the card "how much longer?"

"Stop complaining." I replied.

"Okay, okay. Select last name: L/N, Taylor, Brock. L/N tried, Last name failed?" Brennen stood there confused, moving on to the next.. Keep going!! I'm dying over here! Holding in excitement has never been harder.

"Just read!" I half yelled "please..."

"Select last name: Taylor or Brock. Taylor?" he looked completely confused when he went to the next card. ERROR ERROR ERROR it read. He set it down and stared at the last card.

"You good?" I asked.

"Yeah. Player selected: First Name: Y/N, RS: Taken, Partner: Corey S, Last Name: Sherer. Game Over, thank you for playing -Y/N(soon to be)Sherer..." Brennen trailed off at the name, just staring. "Sherer?"

"Yup, Sherer." I said, slightly nervous. What if he's not happy about it, what if he's mad what if he-

"HOLY SHIT YOU'RE GONNA BE A SHERER!!" He yelled happily, pulling me into a bone-crushing hug.

"He proposed last week." I explained, it came out a little strained due to how tightly he was holding me.

"Congrats!" he said, finally letting me go.

"If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be. So thank you." I said.

"No problem." he smiled and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Now, tell me everything."

***

Brennen's POV

12 years later

"She was like a sister to me, she was awesome." I sighed, remembering everything. "you would've loved your aunt."

"Daddy, what happened to her?" My 7 year old daughter, Y/N asked.

"A bad man hurt her really bad. Now she's up in heaven with God, going on missions to help other people." I explained, slightly tearing up.

"Is she why you named me Y/N?" she asked.

"Yeah," I replied. "you look like her, same eyes and hair. You act like her too." Y/N smiled, stood up and hugged me.

"I wish I could meet her." she whispered.

"Me too." I whispered back, returning the hug.

"Do you think we can visit aunt Corey?" she asked, partly laughing at the "aunt" part.

"Sure we can." I agreed.

[smol-bee-stories]

At the End of Our Lives

Akaashi Keiji sits alone on the engawa overlooking Osaka. It's an awfully quiet day, nothing like the life he's grown used to over the last 70 years. He misses him. After all, Bokuto Koutaro is a man who knows how to leave a mark.

Notes: my second fic! Please leave constructive criticism and comments~

You can also find me on Ao3 at https://archiveofourown.org/users/smol_bee_stories/pseuds/smol_bee_stories

Summers in Osaka are quite warm. They always have been - in the many years that Akaashi Keiji has spent there, there has never been a cool summer. Summers are always warm and humid, filled with the hums of cicadas and grasshoppers alongside the slow trickle of the river. And for the last 70 years, it had been filled with the booming voice of Bokuto Koutaro. But for the first summer in 70 years, that sound was missing.

Bokuto Koutaro died earlier that year. After a well blossomed professional volleyball career and colorful life filled with joy and laughter, he died as all men oneday will. He died in the winter, at the ripe old age of 91 - a peaceful natural death, hand gently placed in Akaashi’s and a smile on his face. Even as Akaashi’s heart shattered in that moment, he couldn’t help but mirror Bokuto’s smile. Spring came late that year.

For the first few months after Bokuto’s passing, Akaashi hadn’t felt too lonely. He supposed it just hadn’t hit him yet, the true weight of being alone. He hadn’t really thought that Bokuto was gone - after all, throughout Bokuto’s career as a star volleyball player turned renowned coach, he was often away from home for months at a time. But now, as Akaashi sat on the engawa, facing towards the lush bloom of his first summer alone, Bokuto’s passing hit him harder than it had yet in all those months since he’s been gone. It was too quiet. The crickets sounded too lonely. His heart felt a little too empty. He missed him.

Bokuto and Akaashi’s lives together had been a rambunctious one. How could it not have been, with a personality like Bokuto’s? Despite Akaashi’s placid nature, there was never a moment of silence. Like all couples, they had their ups and downs. When Bokuto first moved all the way from Tokyo to Osaka to play for the MSBY Jackals, Akaashi thought that that would be the end to his chances with the energetic man. But Bokuto called every night precisely at 10 o’clock - for a whole year and a half he didn’t miss a single call, up until the night Akaashi finally confessed. Bokuto cried (and whined about how long it took) for about an hour that call. Akaashi couldn’t stand to hear him whine then, but only thought fondly of it now. When Akaashi first made the move to Osaka, he was appalled at the state of decay Bokuto’s apartment was in - he knew the man was messy, but the level of mess that Bokuto was living in truly was beyond human comprehension. Akaashi almost left that moment. But they made it through (well, he made it through), and they got married the year after, moving into a home of their own that Akaashi had put quite a bit of effort (and for years to come, continued to put quite a bit of effort) into keeping tidy. The next 60 years were just like the last 10, their relationship like the rivers of Osaka that their home overlooked - full of push and pulls, but constant and steady. They spent their lives loving each other through the storms, holding onto each other even as other constants disappeared. And now that Akaashi was without the one constant that’s anchored him for the last 70 years of his life, for the first time in decades, he didn’t know what to do.

For the first time, as Akaashi’s old and aging body looked out into the warm summer fields of Osaka that he had grown so familiar with, he didn’t feel any joy. He felt an ache in his chest that was quiet, yet it raged through him without any end in sight. He missed Bokuto stomping through the house with their grandchildren on his back. He missed Bokuto asking him to play volleyball with him, despite the fact that neither of them could move very well anymore. He missed Bokuto spilling the tea in little droplets on their guests as he served it to them. He missed Bokuto’s loud snores as Akaashi sat on the engawa and read. He missed Bokuto so much it felt as though he were being swept away, no longer anchored to the blissful reality he had grown so used to and instead drifting in a sea of anguish. He wished so badly to hold Bokuto once more, to see him once more - even if just to whisper one last “I love you.” Akaashi was hurting.

But even as he sat on the engawa, visibly alone and heart aching, all around him Akaashi could still see Bokuto. Along the length of the engawa, he could see multiple stains left by the various spills Bokuto often made. In the yard, he could see the tree where Bokuto had carved their names and the names of their children. Just past the tree, he could see the river where Bokuto almost drowned their former Fukurodani teammates on a disastrous fishing trip. Love is not perfect, and almost everyday Akaashi was reminded of this. Even now with Bokuto gone. But love is good, and it is constant. Bokuto had been his constant, and Akaashi knew that he would always be his constant. Love is a fickle creature, and it refuses to be forgotten.

He would remember Bokuto in the starlit sunset and cool summer nights. He would remember him in tempura dinners that he now ate alone and loud conversations by the dinner table. He would remember him in the gleaming eyes of their grandchildren and the volleyball courts that they passed down to them. He would remember him as strong arms holding him through the storm and quiet breaths of “I love you.” And there was no way he could ever forget him - Bokuto made sure of that when he engraved himself into every piece of Akaashi’s soul. Bokuto was and is every part of Akaashi’s being, and even if he were somewhere far away Akaashi knew they would find their way to one another again. They always did.

“I always knew I would go first. Always wanted to be first at everything, used up all my energy instead of saving it like you told me to.” “And yet you continue to waste the last of your energy making stupid jokes.” “Akaaaaaaaashi, c’mon, I’m literally on my deathbed, say somethin’ sweet.” “Koutarou, we’ve been married for years now, stop calling me Akaashi.” “But it’s the name I called you when we first met! Remember how you promised to set for me? Haha, look at us now. To me, you’ll always be Akaashi.” “Koutarou…” Akaashi hadn’t meant to, he had been trying really hard to fight it, but his voice cracked before he could stop it. “C’mon Keiji, don’t be sad, it happens to the best of us, obviously, seeing as *I’m* dying.” “Stop speaking so loudly, you’ll wear yourself out faster.” “But there’s still so much I wanna say…” "There's always something you want to say, Kou." Silence falls between them for a moment as Bokuto’s spirit falters. He’s fading away, going somewhere Akaashi can’t reach yet. “Hey Keiji..” “Yes Koutarou?” “I don’t know what’s waiting after this life. Heaven, reincarnation, whatever - I don’t really care… but promise me.” A shaky breath. “Promise me that no matter where we end up, you’ll find me again. Cuz this may be the end of my life, but it sure as hell ain’t the end of ours.” Akaashi was sobbing now. Of all times for Bokuto to suddenly become eloquent. “I promise. I promise, Koutarou.” Silence fell on them as Bokuto’s breaths shallowed. “What a shame. We almost made it to 71.” A grin. “70’s a pretty good number.” A soft smile littered in tears. “I love you, Koutarou.” “Love you too, Keiji. See you soon.” And with that, Bokuto was gone with a smile on his face. And despite the tears falling from Akaashi’s eyes, he couldn’t help but smile back.

When they made their vows at the altar that day - no, even before that day, long before they made their vows - when they were just two high school boys playing volleyball together, they had known that their lives would be inexplicably intertwined. From the moment his name left Bokuto’s lips, Akaashi’s life was Bokuto’s just as Bokuto’s was his. Even now, as Akaashi sat alone on the engawa without Bokuto’s booming presence, he knew through the aching pain that he would never be truly alone. The ring on his finger was proof of that much, and the world that they had built in the last 70 years spent together was its testament. His life was no longer his alone - it hadn’t been for a long time now, and he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Akaashi gathered up the book that was sitting on his lap, heaving through old bones as he got up from his spot on the engawa, making his way inside. After all, it was almost time to go watch their granddaughter’s volleyball game.

Notes:

[cno-inbminor]

immergo

a/n: i recently watched haikyuu and i’m absolutely hooked. to help get it out of my system in time for final papers and assignments, i’m procrastinating by writing this out. hope you enjoy!

featuring: oikawa tooru x fem!reader & some OC’s + iwaizumi

genre: best friends to lovers!au, angst, fluff, slooow burn, some cliches to make people suffer

summary: tooru is as constant as the stars and as real as the earth beneath your feet, yet even for you, he still manages to slip away. and when it’s all too late, only then does he attempt to come back.

word count: 21.9k (this is a monster)

playlist: i wanted to try making one so here's a playlist on spotify: immergo

edit: now crossposted onto AO3 here!

-

You are five years old when you first meet him.

He’s got a terrible bowl cut and sand particles smudged on his cheek. A plastic, ocean blue shovel is dug deep into the sand before being lifted up with a load, then precariously dumped into a matching bucket. A teetering sandcastle threatens to fully collapse, yet somehow still sporting a little plastic yellow umbrella that some other kids might’ve left behind. You’re clutching your mother’s hand, a clenched fist brought up to your mouth to hide the trembling of your lips from the nervousness of approaching new people. The sandbox is a part of the playground, but you want to be there alone. You want to be in your own little world, too terrified to face the unknowns, but after the last two weeks of coming by, this boy is always in the sandbox.

Your mother somehow convinces you that you can make new friends. ‘But don’t boys have cooties?’ you ponder. There’s only a week left until kindergarten starts, and your mother thinks it would be nice to try to meet someone so you’ll at least have some semblance of familiarity. Just when you think you’re brave enough, you almost yelp in renewed fear when another boy comes into the scene and plops down next to the other boy, his own pair of a bucket and shovel dyed a bright, firetruck red, and is ready to start digging up sand. You watch him eye the falling castle, grumbling something to the other boy before attempting to patch it and stand it back up. The other boy stares at him with wide eyes and an open mouth before morphing his face into a childish, happy grin. And immediately, you think, ‘Oh wow, I like his smile.’

Not only is it bright and wide, but there’s a certain feeling of gentleness. None of this is eloquently elaborated in your brain, but there’s a comfort that settles into your mind. That smile is what causes you to (though still hesitantly) let go of your mother’s hand and slowly wobble to the sand box, pause, before you step up and over the wooden border. The two boys have ceased their castle-building duties to stare at you, who’s now sitting in the sand and looking towards anything but them. Your head scrambles to remind yourself on how to say hello, and it must’ve done something correctly because before they can ask questions, you quietly ask, “Can I play with you guys?”

Both boys look toward each other, giving a look, before the boy with the red bucket shrugs and says, “Okay. As long as you don’t mess up my castle.”

Bowl-cut tyke flicks sand at him, causing him to splutter and yell in protest. “Don’t be so mean, Hajime!” Bowl-cut scolds before turning back to you with that earlier grin. “I’m Oikawa Tooru and he’s Iwaizumi Hajime. Wanna help me with my castle?”

And ever since you moved to this new city until now, your mother has never seen your eyes so bright.

-

You are ten years old when Oikawa, with a better hairstyle, receives his first love confession of sorts (because you’re ten).

It takes until fifth grade for you to be finally in a class with both him and Iwaizumi. Other years either had one or neither of them, but you were still able to reconvene during recess. The three of you are attached at the hips during those 30 minutes, either running around in a game of tag, swinging as fast as you could across the monkey bars, or seeing who could swing the highest.

On days when the swings are particularly busy, the three of you would take turns pushing each other, trading off once one of you had your fill. “Higher!” Oikawa would always yell happily, his voice blending in with the rest of the screams and laughs in the playground. With your own laughs leaving your lips as you attempt to push the swing, Iwaizumi would instead yell back at him, “Use your own legs, idiot! That’s what they’re for!” To which Oikawa would whine, but eyes would still crinkle in childish delight as he approached the sky.

But Oikawa notices a lot of things, more than the average fifth grader does. Then again, it isn’t hard to spot the group of giggling girls under a tree’s shade nearby, evidently gazing at him in wonder and affection. He feels his heart soar at the attention and in turn, pumps his legs even harder, almost reaching perpendicular height to the ground. Oikawa admits that he is a bit of a show-off, he wants to be the best, and without warning, releases his hands from the chains and jumps off from the swing.

Both you and Iwaizumi gape at him with a mixture of horror and awe. If you could put this moment in slow motion, you would see Oikawa suspended in mid-air, yet somehow seeming to soar like a bird. His jacket flows behind him as his arms lift up to give a sense of balance, legs stretching out to get ready to meet the ground. You wonder what the expression on his face is like, yet the terror manifests itself into your shriek of his name, pitch and tone overpowering a similar call from Iwaizumi. But Oikawa is Oikawa and he lands on both feet, knees bent and almost touching the ground before straightening back up. You’re about to start running towards him, feet already moving, until you stop because he’s twisting himself towards you and Iwaizumi, V-sign held up and that same, big grin he always has. The sun casts a halo around him and you can’t bring yourself to look away. Your feet stay rooted on the mulch and you watch as Iwaizumi stomps over to punch Oikawa in the arm, yelling about how he could’ve broken his legs and who would he play volleyball with then, leaving you to spot the aforementioned fangirls huddled like they’re coming up with a grand plan.

At first, you think nothing of it. It isn’t until after school as the three of you are walking towards the entrance when you wish you were more perceptive like Oikawa. One of the girls from under the tree has gone up to him, quickly bowing while introducing herself, grabs one of his hands to slap a folded piece of paper into it, and almost sprints away. Oikawa doesn’t have a chance to say anything, but he can only give himself a few seconds to register what just happened and unfold the ripped notebook paper. Inside in pretty cursive is an email address (because none of you have cellphones yet), which causes Oikawa to put on a shit-eating grin. He just basically received a love note, a confession, and his ego has just been fed a meal fit for a king.

He brags and boasts the whole way home, causing a permanent frown to settle on Iwaizumi’s face from pure irritation, and you find yourself only able to stay quiet, pondering and contemplating what this small nasty feeling inside your chest could be.

-

Oikawa and Iwaizumi are fourteen years old, nearly fifteen, when you receive your first love confession, which ends up being a little more refined than a hastily torn piece of notebook paper possessing an email address.

Their afternoons and early evenings are occupied by volleyball. While you had been at Lil Tykes from the ages of 6 to 10, mainly due to a massive fear of missing out and wanting to spend more time with your new best friends then, you didn’t have as much talent as those two and decided to pursue other interests. Iwaizumi and Oikawa had protested vehemently when you broke the news to them one evening over dinner at the setter's house, their mouths full of rice and chicken curry yet somehow still managing to speak over the food. Oikawa’s mother had seen you shrink further and further into your chair before slamming her hand on the table, causing the two boys to startle and cease their yelling.

“Respect (y/n)’s interests! I did not raise you,” she spoke pointedly, directing a finger at her now ashamed son, “to be so rude. If she doesn’t want to play volleyball anymore, then she doesn’t have to. She doesn’t need to keep doing something she doesn’t want to do just because you two said so. Now, both of you apologize to (y/n) and finish your dinner.”

“Yes, mother,” and “Yes, auntie,” both quietly left their lips. You wanted to hug the woman right then and there, tears nearly forming and spilling over at the fact that she was on your side. The two boys had put their spoons down and waited for a few seconds before Iwaizumi finally spoke.

“I’m sorry I got mad at you. We’re just gonna miss you a lot,” he apologized, tone sad and soft. Oikawa was still chewing on his bottom lip when Iwaizumi elbowed him to say something. “Apologize, you idiot,” he hissed.

“Ow! I know, geez. I’m sorry, too. Mom’s right, I should respect what you want to do. We’re gonna miss seeing you, like this meanie said,” Oikawa jabbing a thumb in the direction of his male best friend. Their eyes are still downcast until you let out a small giggle.

“Apologies accepted, you dummies.”

You still found time after your new art classes to go watch them play volleyball with either Iwazumi’s or Oikawa’s mother picking you all up and heading home. The three of you still lived near each other, and the two boys were happy that they could still see you somehow. Lil Tykes after school evolved into official middle school volleyball practice, yet you were still commonly found in the bleachers finishing homework or doodling in a sketchbook, patiently waiting for your two best friends to go home with you.

A teammate by the name of Wakeda had taken notice of you, had seen your interactions with the best players on their team. He had seen how nice you were with your classmates, yet still unafraid to give Oikawa and Iwaizumi shit for the smallest things. Your aura is pleasant and raw in a genuine sense, only fueling his budding, burning crush on you. He decided he wanted to be confident and bold, hoping that you would give him a chance.

The Friday afternoon starts off like any other -- Iwaizumi and Oikawa head off to volleyball practice with a greeting and a wave, receiving one from you in return as you make your way towards the math club. The art classes from late elementary school only served to show that you only possessed some mild talent for drawing and painting, but not enough for you to continue paying money for classes. The passion and drive didn’t exist for you there, not like it does with Iwaizumi and Oikawa in volleyball, and it only became something that you enjoyed in your leisure time. Instead, you eventually find yourself balancing math club and chess club -- math is on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons while chess is on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, but they never run as late as volleyball practice.

As tiring as math club can be sometimes, you usually somehow still find the energy to finish the bulk of your homework before heading home. When you walk through the bleachers and settle into your normal seat, the team spots you and gives you a casual wave. You smile and wave back, setting your stuff down before you clamber towards the edge of the rail and look down to spot the manager. On time, she looks up and greets you with a matching smile, ones that you return. The team is coincidentally taking a quick water break, giving Oikawa and Iwaizumi enough time to quickly chat with you from below (and escape their coach for a hot second).

“How was math club?” Iwaizumi calls out. Oikawa subtly observes you as you shrug. To both him and Hajime, the mental exhaustion is evident on your face and figure, yet they always find themselves asking, waiting, watching.

“It was okay,” you respond, fighting back a yawn. “Practice competition round was a bit brutal. How’s practice?” You quickly digress, noticing Oikawa was about to jump in and ask for some details.

“This crappy guy over here keeps pushing himself too much. You know, the usual,” Iwaizumi speaks before, once again, Oikawa can say anything. The latter turns to him and lets out an indignant “Hey!” before quickly attempting to defend himself.

“Iwa-chan is being mean, I’m not--”

“All right, let’s get back to work! Everybody back on the court!” The coach yells and Oikawa can only drop his shoulders and sigh, slightly trudging back into the bounds of the court outline. You stare after him worriedly -- both he (mainly out of stubbornness) and Iwaizumi (mainly out of friendship and loyalty) had been pulling late extra practice sessions and the dark eye circles were starting to become more and more noticeable. As if he could tell what you were probably thinking, he turns back and gives a thumbs up with a grin, tongue slightly poking out. You can only roll your eyes at his antics, returning to your seat in the bleachers and pulling out your science homework.

The minutes tick by as the sun slowly begins to set, rays streaming through the windows of the gym in a harsh blood orange. The coach takes a look at his watch before blowing his whistle, signalling the end of practice. The sound of volleyballs hitting skin abruptly stops, except for one last jump-serve that Oikawa sneaks in. The coach berates him loudly, only causing Oikawa to sheepishly smile and rub the back of his neck. All the players bow and announce their thanks before moving to complete their respective clean-up duties. By this time, you gather your stuff and make your way towards the ground floor. Even if your best friends were going to do some extra practice, it’s better for you to sit at their level against the wall.

The sound of sneakers squeaking against the floor increases in volume as you approach the court. But before you can make your way towards Iwaizumi and Oikawa on the other side of the net, Wakeda calls out your name. You turn towards the left to see him pick up a volleyball not far from you, and Wakeda is counting his lucky stars that he was provided with an excuse to be near you.

“Aoki-san,” you greet him by his last name. “How was practice?”

“It was good, but Coach really worked us to the bone today,” he nervously replies, hands subtly clenching the volleyball in his hands. “I was wondering if I could speak with you for a second? In private?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. You’ve never really had much interaction with him outside of volleyball practice, and even then it was very limited to pleasantries. Perhaps it’s about Iwaizumi and Oikawa running themselves to the ground, and nothing to do with you. “Sure,” you agree, looking around before gesturing towards the door of the gym. “We can talk out here, if you’d like.” Wakeda quickly nods and follows you. At this time, the other boys have retreated towards the locker room except for one. One who narrows his eyes at the retreating backs of two people making their way out of the gym.

He puts the last ball in the ball cart, ignoring his friend’s confused look as he jogs towards the entrance of the gym and leans against the wall out of sight. He knows it's wrong to eavesdrop, but he just has to know about what could be unfolding.

The two of you are only a few feet away from the open door and you can only look perplexed as Wakeda begins to look more and more bashful, stumbling over words and anxiously tossing the ball side to side between his hands.

“Is everything okay?” You ask worriedly, trying to maintain eye contact until you can because he’s looking straight down towards the ground. Your heart pounds in your chest as you start to fathom what might be happening.

“I’m sorry, I just -- I like you. I think you’re really nice and cool, and I would like it if I could take you out on a date.”

You’re stunned into silence. Never has anyone expressed any semblance of romantic interest in you, nor has anyone confessed. You’ve never been in this position and the first thing your brain starts to unravel is the puzzle of how to turn someone down. It’s not that going on a date with Wakeda would be terrible -- you just don’t know enough about him. You don’t want to bring his hopes up, but you don’t want to bring him down either.

On the other side of the wood, the boy’s eyebrows are furrowed. His arms are crossed and a foot is perched against the wall, legs making the shape of the number four. His eyes are burning holes into the window across from him and he can’t figure out why a feeling of protectiveness is washing over him. But what he can’t figure out even more is why his mind is instantly screaming, “Please say no please say no please say no don’t say yes don’t leave us don’t leave me--”

“I’m sorry,” he hears, ears straining to catch your voice as you softly apologize. You watch as Wakeda’s shoulders slump and the volleyball is finally kept still between his hands. You gently put a hand on his upper arm. “I can tell you’re a nice guy, but I don’t feel that way about you. I’m sorry.”

Wakeda lets out a long breath before mustering up his best smile for you. “It’s okay, I was kind of expecting it." A hand reaches up to run a hand through his hair in embarrassment and he’s trying to think of what to say next. Be bold, be confident, his inner self reminds him as he stands tall again. Wakeda puts up the cheekiest smile you’ve seen on him so far. “But I’ll be waiting, if you ever change your mind.”

The statement only makes you smile first and then chuckle. Wakeda basks in the sound for as long as he can before he shyly joins you. The laughter isn’t meant to demean him in any way, but it’s the only reaction you can feel yourself make. It’s all so foreign to you, but you’re glad that your first interaction like this is with someone as kind as him. You trust Oikawa’s teammates.

“Thank you though, it must’ve taken a lot of courage to do this. To be honest, this has never happened to me before and I just don’t know what to say,” you ramble a little, now wondering if you’ve said too much. Wakeda begins to look a little more comfortable before making his way back to the gym with you following.

“Would it be cheesy to say I’m glad I was the first?”

“Absolutely. In fact, I know now that I’m never changing my mind.”

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Wakeda exclaims, only causing you to laugh. “You gotta leave some room for chance so--”

“Oi, Wakeda,” you hear a familiar voice call out. Your eyes spot Oikawa slowly making his way from the other side of the gym, walking towards you two with a hand in a pocket and another hand in the air, waving. But it’s perplexing because his chest is heaving like he just sprinted his fastest around the court. “Is that the last ball?”

“Ah, yes, sorry senpai!” Wakeda apologizes before tossing the ball into Oikawa’s awaiting hand. It quickly gets thrown into the ball cart. When you two are standing right in front of him, your friend pats Wakeda on the shoulder. “Go ahead and clean up, you deserve a break,” he says before smiling. It’s a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes or even match his eyes. His chestnut orbs have another emotion burning in them, far from the light they would usually glint when paired with a genuine grin. Wakeda quickly lets out a “see you around” and you wave back at him. Once the boy has disappeared into the locker room, you direct your attention back to Oikawa. That earlier fire in his eyes has dimmed a little, but you want to know what it is and why it’s there.

A word barely leaves your tongue when strong arms hug you to a sturdy chest. They intertwine around your shoulders, the squeeze becoming more and more constricting. Your chest tightens and you’re not sure if it’s your heartbeat or his that you’re feeling beat against your chest. In a movement of instinct, you hesitantly wrap your own arms around Oikawa, hand linking to hold onto your own wrist behind his back. Your face is pressed into his shoulder, your nose catching the lingering scent of his deodorant mixed with his sweat. His chin is perched over your shoulder momentarily before he buries his face in the crook of your neck, causing you to stiffen.

It’s not that Oikawa has never hugged you before. There have been plenty of hugs with the two boys over the last nine years, but something is different about this one. There’s an underlying intention hidden in the muscles of Oikawa’s arms, hidden in the way that he breathes in your scent. Something heavy is unspoken as a sense of intimacy falls over the two of you like a soft blanket. You can only gently grasp the back of his jersey, his grip somehow tightening even more, and finally find your voice to speak.

“Tooru,” you murmur, fighting the sensation of your heart caught in your throat. Very rarely do you ever say his name in that tone, one so gentle and full of friendly affection (but did he want it to be just friendly?), so caring and drowned in empathy. “Is everything okay?” You continue and ask. He’s trying to tell you something. He’s trying to scream it through his mind, hoping it’ll somehow miraculously meet yours. But even he doesn’t understand what’s drawing him to do this. All he knows is that as soon as Wakeda was out of sight, he needed you here in his arms. The non-verbal pleas of worry and want from earlier have substantially settled, now morphing into thoughts of “It’s okay, she’s here, she isn’t leaving us, she isn’t leaving me--”. It must be the stress from wanting to become the best, from the stress of Kageyama Tobio’s looming ascent to the top, from the general stress of classes. It must be those. It couldn’t be anything else.

“Everything’s fine,” he replies into your neck, sound muffled but just as quiet as yours had been. You can only feel your heart sink at how strained those words came out. Everything was clearly not fine. Your hands unlink and move to his waist, putting some force into your palms to try to separate from him so you can see his face. But Oikawa quickly protests a soft “no”, once again pulling you as close to him as possible with an arm around your waist and the other soon joining. He can’t handle distance from you right now, some budding anxiety from your attempts at separation quickly subdued as you’re pressed fully against his chest again. “Just give me this moment,” he thinks and pleads to some unknown force.

“I’m just...stressed,” he says before letting out a long breath and disentangling himself from you. But he doesn’t move far, the tips of both of your sneakers just centimeters apart from touching. He straightens his back and lifts his head to momentarily look into your eyes, your own face slightly tilted upwards to meet his gaze. But before you can decipher the emotions in his eyes, his head tilts down to lean his forehead against yours. Though his eyes are closed, yours are still open in muted astonishment. If the hug wasn’t very new, then this action was definitely new. The tip of his nose barely grazes yours, causing your breath to hitch, once again feeling your heart stuck in your throat. You struggle to breathe, especially when his lips are so close to yours. Somehow your thoughts drift to thinking of what would happen if you elevated your feet just a little bit, what would it feel like if your lips softly met his--

“There’s a lot going on,” he interrupts your (silly, silly) thoughts. “I keep getting reminded of how I’m not good enough, and maybe I never will be. But I want to be the best, you know?” For how tall Oikawa is, you’ve never heard him sound so small before. Your eyes can’t help but flutter closed as you relish in the sound of his voice. You try to understand what he’s feeling, the frustration, the stress, the insecurity.

“I hate knowing there’s someone better out there. I hate that there’s someone out there, right here, who’s got the pure talent and prodigal level that I don’t have because I keep getting reminded of how I’m not the one who has it. It’s just not fair, (y/n), do you understand?”

“But I know you’re here for me. And Iwaizumi. I know you believe in me and in us. You're right here with us. You always are,” he continues before you can affirm and acknowledge him. His fingers ghost over your skin, up from your wrists, to your elbows, then your shoulders, lastly lingering at the sides of your neck. Goosebumps break out in the wake of his tender trail and you fight the urge to shiver. You so badly want to open your eyes and drink in this moment of vulnerability from Oikawa, but you’re afraid that you’ll do something rash, something you’ll regret. You’re then given all the more reason to keep your eyes shut when his hands gently cradle your face, his thumbs on your cheeks, the other fingers softly splayed down your neck. He inhales sharply, then daring to slant his head down just the slightest distance, your noses firmly touching now. Your heart is now thrashing wildly against your ribcage -- you have no grasp on what is happening.

“Promise me you’ll never leave us, (y/n),” he implores, raw desperation laced and building in his voice. You can’t help but recognize the tears uncontrollably forming behind your eyelids. Nothing else around you matters -- it’s only you and Oikawa in this impenetrable bubble that you two have created. You’re too far in now, sinking and drowning into this body of water that is him, entangled and rooted in this web that he’s so quickly and craftily woven. He could ask anything of you and you would do it in the blink of an eye. How he made you feel this way in just a few minutes, from the door of the gym to the embrace of his arms, is completely beyond you, but you can’t seem to find the complaints within you. ‘How cruel of him,’ you despondently think, still unable to find it in yourself to be mad. ‘How wicked of him.’

But then Oikawa deals the final blow with a shaky breath. He lays out his last trap, one that you can’t escape. It’s the final straw, the last pull into a heartbreaking world that you will never be able to escape from for as far into the future as you can see; desperation, yearning, beseeching.

“Promise that you’ll never leave me.”

Nothing, nothing, can stop you from whispering what he so deeply desires to hear, fall delicately off your tongue.

“I promise.”

And his lips crash onto yours.

-

You and Iwaizumi are fifteen years old when Oikawa falls to his lowest.

The kiss was a one-time thing. It had lasted no more than a few seconds when the sound of the locker room door swinging open had you two jumping apart and turning away from each other. Oikawa found it easier than you did to compose himself, though internally he was berating his actions. What was it that made him do such a thing? What was it that pushed him to cross the line he never thought he’d cross? What was it that made him want to spin back around and continue what he had started?

“Iwa-chan!” He had hollered across the building, waving over said male who had smartly refrained from changing his clothes. “Help with some tosses? Serves?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Iwaizumi had muttered under his breath, grunting his affirmation loud enough. But in his peripheral, he had spotted your figure hunched over your things on the bench, had squinted at the way you seemed to be shaking, shivering. He had noticed the look, almost a glare, that Oikawa had directed towards Wakeda before imperceptibly shaking his head to focus on the extra task.

And it wasn’t until weeks later that Oikawa breached the subject during a walk home, sans you because you had late night practice with the math club to prepare for some upcoming Olympiad competition. You were insistent through text that they didn't wait for you and that one of your teammates would help walk you home. Oikawa argued quite relentlessly against it until you threatened to block him from the group chat (though it wasn’t the first time you threatened such a thing) and Iwaizumi decided to take his phone away.

While much wasn’t being said, mainly both preoccupied with their popsicles that they had stopped at a convenience store for, Oikawa broke the silence.

“I kissed (y/n).”

Iwaizumi nearly choked on his popsicle, spluttering and struggling to find the right words to say. Yet the best he could come up with was, “So are you two...dating?”

“No.”

“What the fuck? Why are you telling me this?”

“Because we’re best friends, Iwa-chan. I didn’t know when to tell you though, thought you’d get mad at me,” Oikawa said, pouting childishly.

“So...well, you can tell me what happened before it later. But what happened after? And when did this even happen?”

“Everything just went back to normal. We never spoke about it. And it happened a few weeks ago in the gym after practice.”

“But why?”

“Hmm…” Oikawa had pondered for a few seconds and then shrugged. “Not sure. I was just really stressed, and I was scared that she’d leave us.”

“Us? How am I included in this? And where’d you even come up with that thought?”

“Because it’s always been us three, and it’s always gonna be us. We can’t be apart.”

“We’re eventually going to be apart, you know. It’s not likely that we’re all going to end up in the same city.”

“No,” Oikawa spoke obstinately, hands harshly crushing the wrapper around the now empty popsicle stick. “That’s not going to happen. We’re going to stick together wherever we go. We’ll play for the national team and (y/n) will find a job in Tokyo. We’re always going to be near each other. That’s how it’ll be. That’s how it’s supposed to be.”

Iwaizumi had nothing to say about that, except for, “We’ll see.”

In the month or so to the blossoming age of fifteen, things don’t change very much. Oikawa becomes more physically affectionate with you and Iwaizumi. You try not to notice how often and how casually Oikawa tends to sling an arm over your shoulders. He does the same with Iwaizumi, though the latter is more likely to shrug it off in mock annoyance and causes Oikawa to lament about lost friendships. But even if physical distance has shortened, Oikawa begins to dig a mental wall between you two. His face becomes more hardened during practice, rarely ever putting up an earnest smile with his teammates. The late-night practices run even later, each serve hitting harder, each toss against the wall getting stronger. The nights when you leave him on his own slowly increase in frequency, going back home with only Iwaizumi. The third leg of the triangle missing feels so adulterated, so wrong. Oikawa is digging himself towards a hell that he won’t be able to return from, but how can you lift him back up? How can you dig your heels into the earth and pull him back out?

“I’m trying my best,” Iwaizumi attempts to comfort you one night. He sees how often you turn back to look at Oikawa as the two of you reluctantly move to leave the gym. Practice had been rough on him, getting switched out with Kageyama Tobio. You had watched his defeated body collapse onto the bench, and there was nothing more that you wanted to do than to run down and snap him out of whatever mental spiral he had created. One serve after another slams into the ground, his figure hunched and panting yet pushing itself to the limits.

“He’s going to kill himself at this rate,” you whisper morosely, turning back to peer at the dark sky. “Is there nothing we can do?”

“You know there’s no one more stubborn than that idiot. He’d have to pass out for you to drag him out of here.”

“Please teach me how to serve!” A young male voice calls out. Both of you pivot on your feet to see the source, eyes focusing on the scene of Kageyama Tobio requesting a seemingly simple task from a senpai.

But you can only watch as Oikawa’s eyes lose any semblance of emotion, instead only darkening with what seems like rage entering his body. He begins to tremble, and Iwaizumi must’ve seen something shift because no sooner than that does he bolt at top speed towards the unsuspecting pair. You can only watch in horror, shell-shocked, as Oikawa begins to forcibly swing his right arm, the back of his hand aiming straight for Tobio’s right cheek.

A horrible screech unearths from your throat in the form of a piercing “NO!” and slices through the air, just as Iwaizumi is able to stop Oikawa’s assault on the poor unsuspecting underclassman. You’ve never seen him so uncontrolled, so ready to intentionally commit an act of violence against an innocent person. Your ears pulse with your heartbeat, barely registering Iwaizumi apologizing to Tobio and giving Oikawa the lecture of his life.

The latter is reminded of the purpose of having a team, is scolded for having been so selfish in his pursuit for excellence. You start sprinting over when Iwaizumi headbutts Oikawa in the nose for his insolence, tossing your bag down as it only decreases your speed. You don’t care for the trouble of cleaning out blood stains from towels when you begin to clean his face, his eyes still furious and full of anguish but somewhat softened when he sees your tears. He continues to let Iwaizumi teach him a lesson while you pinch the bridge of his nose and tilt his head back. Like handling a doll, you have to lift his arm so he can keep the towel in place himself. You then scurry off to find the first-aid kit, leaving Oikawa to fend for himself. Only a couple of minutes later, the three of you are sitting on the ground and you’re dabbing ointment on the emerging bruise right in the middle of Iwaizumi’s forehead. Iwaizumi is a little calmer now, though he’s still verbally punishing Oikawa for even thinking of purposefully hurting a teammate.

Oikawa thinks the three of you are all fine and okay. He’d be ridiculously thickheaded if he wasn’t able to catch onto how quiet you are on the walk home, how instead of walking between him and Iwaizumi, you’re now on the opposite end. There’s a tug at his heartstrings when he plays with the idea that you’re attempting to put distance between you and him, but he refuses to believe it. His actions were a momentary lapse in terrible, awful judgment, and you had forgiven him. Why else would you have tried to help with his nosebleed? There’s no way you’d let something like this drive a rift in the trio.

There’s just no way.

-

“You’ve been avoiding him, haven’t you?”

There are times when you forget that Iwaizumi can be just as perceptive as Oikawa. For the last two weeks, you would, more often than not, avoid them during lunch. You attempt to show up at their volleyball practice as late as possible, saying that your club activities went longer than usual to prepare for upcoming competitions. You still walk on the opposite side from Oikawa on the way home and only give the bare minimum answers to any of his questions, leaving very little room to continue conversation. The atmosphere is heavy and awkward, tension so thick that Iwaizumi would need a chainsaw to cut through it.

This time you’re on the roof of the school. It’s cliché, so cliché, but the weather was too hard to ignore. Mostly cloudy with a slight wind, the perfect temperature without feeling too hot or too cold. You loved being outside during these days, and you had weaved as fast as possible through the emerging crowd of third years, up the stairs, and onto your personal sanctuary. Your bento is half-eaten when Iwaizumi makes his presence known. You should’ve seen this coming.

“He’s worried about you, y’know?”

“I know.”

“He misses you.”

“I know.”

“...he wants to know if you’re avoiding him because of that incident.”

“...which one?”

“The kiss.”

You whip your head in his direction, giving Iwaizumi an incredulous and affronted look. Instinctively, Iwaizumi throws his hands up, signaling that you shouldn’t shoot the messenger. God, Oikawa could be such a clueless buffoon sometimes. You scoff and nearly snort. Iwaizumi looks about ready to tear his hair out.

“So the great king thinks that I’m avoiding him over something that we haven’t talked about that happened a few months ago?”

Iwaizumi can’t find the words when you slam your bento box down on the ground, chopsticks thrown haphazardly on top and almost rolling off the edges. Iwaizumi catches them as you stand up in anger and begin to pace in front of him.

“Who does he think he is? He’s got a decent following of fangirls to help stroke his ego, and I’m sure some of them are more than willing to worship the ground he walks on. His teammates practically idolize him -- sans you -- but he thinks I’m losing sleep over some kiss we had months ago? It would make much more sense if this had been a couple of weeks after that, but we’re talking months right now! How is it," you stop in your stride, bottom lip beginning to tremble as you look down at Iwaizumi. "How is it that he’s one of my best friends who’s known me for almost 10 years, a genius in his own way, but still can’t tell that I’m avoiding him because I’m scared of him?”

This time, Iwaizumi is confused.

“You’re scared of Oikawa?” He asks, trying to confirm what he just heard.

You let out a long breath, forcing yourself to simmer down and keep a cool head. Part of you feels guilty, yet another part feels justified for your actions. You were only protecting yourself; it was only natural.

“I’ve never seen him like that,” you begin, gingerly sitting back down next to him. The comfort of your best friend that you’ve been denying yourself of is granted as you rest your head on his shoulder. You link an arm around his as well as you begin to curl into a familiar position. Iwaizumi only naturally rests his head on top of yours, hands folded in his lap and legs stretched out.

“I’ve never seen him look so angry, even when that one kid in second grade tried to make fun of you. Or even when someone took the shit talking too far at an official game last year. But he was ready, Iwa-kun. He was ready to displace Tobio out of sheer anger and spite. I know he knows better now. I’ve seen how much better he meshes with you all on the court and attempts to bring the best out of everyone. But it’s hard to look at him sometimes and forget what he was then. What if he gets mad like that at us one day? What if he tries to hit you?”

What if he tries to hit me? is left unsaid, but they ring loud and clear in both of your heads.

“The idiot knows that I could take him down in a fight if it ever came to it. And since it’s apparently not obvious, I’m just letting you know that Shittykawa would rather throw himself off a cliff before ever laying a finger on you like that.”

“But how can you guarantee that?” You argue back, lifting your head up to look him square in the eyes. You want to see if the same hesitancy is reflected in his orbs, the same uncertainty that had been slowly building up in you as an ugly beast. Instead, his eyes are steady and full of promise, never straying from yours as he ends the debate.

“You can trust me. And if I’m wrong, I promise I’ll do anything to make up for it, though the chances are very, very low. They’re practically non-existent.”

And if Iwaizumi says so, well…then it probably is so.

“...I trust you then,” you comply, your head leaning down to rest on his shoulder again. “You better be right.”

“I know I am.”

Silence.

“If you’re not going to eat the rest of your bento, you should give it to him. He’d be happy to see you.”

A few sighs later, a couple of stretches, some steps down the stairs, you find yourself stuck at the door of their classroom. You can see him with his jacket on, head buried in his arms on his desk and turned towards the windows. Iwaizumi gives you an encouraging pat on the shoulder and you release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Somehow you find yourself demurely sitting in the empty desk chair in front of him, hands clutching your bento box and chopsticks. Iwaizumi stands by you and watches as you quietly gulp.

“Tooru, wake up.”

Oikawa thinks he’s dreaming. More often than not, you had plagued his visions in sleep, often ending with you attempting to wake him up, but it had been spoken by his mother. He would be disappointed that it wasn’t you by his bedside trying to goad him out from under the sheets.

“Tooru, wake up. I have food.”

This is different. His eyes are bleary and caked with exhaustion, vision catching the light that peaks from under his elbows. Her voice is so close -- he has to give in and just look. Oikawa lifts his head and stares in front of him. He blinks once, then twice, then multiple times, and you’re still there. This is not a dream, he concludes. This is too good to be a dream.

You watch him warily as he attempts to gather his bearings. In the meantime, you open your bento and grab the last onigiri. When Oikawa begins to form the sounds for your name, you quickly stuff the rice ball into his mouth, causing him to give a muffled protest and use one hand to prevent the food from dropping. You watch with muted delight as everything begins to hit him all at once: the food in his mouth, you in front of him with a close-lipped smile, Iwaizumi leaning on the desk next to you two, the sunlight beaming through the windows.

His eyes slightly water, choosing wisely to not say anything for now. Oikawa dutily finishes the rice ball before you place the bento in front of him with chopsticks neatly arranged to the right of it. His hands shoot out to cover yours before they leave the bento, squeezing gently as he looks at you with apologetic puppy eyes. You can’t stop your smile from widening, and only then does Oikawa happily let go, thank the food, and begin to chow down with a gusto that had been missing for the last week.

Things are going to be okay. Unless that group of fangirls seething at you over in the corner is an indication of something otherwise.

-

You turn sixteen when Oikawa gets his first, real girlfriend.

It’s your first year at Aoba Johsai and Oikawa has captured the hearts of many people from around the area, be it still from middle school, or even some of the upperclassmen. Those who are engrossed in school volleyball were surprised to hear that he didn’t matriculate into Shiratorizawa. And because Oikawa keeps most everyone at arm’s length, only very few people know the reason why. It wasn’t that he was good enough to get in, that’s for sure -- it had mainly been him refusing to “serve” Ushijima. The Herculean boy can criticize his choices all he wants, but Oikawa will never step down from his pedestal willingly.

What no one knows besides Oikawa himself is that Ushijima was only 70% of the reason. The other 30%? He was not going to be the one that separates the trio. What a hypocrite he would be if he had left after having so passionately convinced Iwaizumi that the three of you would always be with each other.

Little do the two boys know that you had seriously considered going to Shiratorizawa. They knew how smart you were as you consistently placed in the top 5 of your class throughout middle school. What they didn’t catch onto was also how well you did in math club and chess club -- to be fair, they knew you excelled, they just weren’t sure of the details. Inquiries about your competitions were always answered in team format: we did well or we placed pretty high. The same existed for chess competitions -- you weren’t a national champion by any means, but you were still somewhat recognized. But again, the same answers were given: we all did well. Math club and chess club never had the public presence that other clubs did. Very few cared, and much less was said.

Before Oikawa pointed out how disgusted he was by the idea of going to Shiratorizawa, you had studied for their entrance exams in your spare time. You didn’t play any sports, so those scholarships were out of the question. It’d all have to be based on merit and you were ready to prove yourself. You had gotten past the first two rounds of exams without them knowing, and your nights only became longer and longer as the material increased in difficulty. But then the two boys talked about going to Aoba Johsai together since they were invited anyways, and not long after, you found yourself at the entrance of the testing center with Oikawa and Iwaizumi on either side, putting Shiratorizawa to the back of your mind.

Things are more brutal in high school. Subjects are more difficult, classes take more time, after-school activities often extend past the sunset. There are physically not enough hours in a day to spend nearly the amount of time you used to have with Oikawa and Iwaizumi. The fangirls increase, Iwaizumi’s irritation becomes more exaggerated, and Oikawa becomes too nice on the fan-service.

He’s the triple threat: smart, kind, an amazing volleyball player. You and Iwaizumi can only roll your eyes as he plasters on his fakest grin for the crowd of girls huddling around him, demanding his attention. A part of him is thankful that so many seem to admire him. As much as he won’t return the affection, he welcomes the non-stop stroking of his ego. It does wonders at keeping his insecurities at bay, even if he knows that everything is superficial and surface level. They think they know him, but only a handful of people truly understand his personality.

So when Oikawa announces on the train home that he’s taking a girl out on a date, you and Iwaizumi can only passively nod, thinking that nothing will come of it. Then the second date happens, the third, the fourth, and then the stamp of the label between the two.

“I have a girlfriend now, guys!”

“Like actually? Sounds fake to me,” Iwaizumi scoffs, Oikawa taking offense.

“You wound me, Iwa-chan! What do you take me for, a heartless player?”

“Somewhat,” you jokingly supply, eyes still trained on your notes from your biology class. You don’t need to physically see him to know that he’s pouting and threatening to stick his tongue out at you. “Who’s the poor girl?” You ask, not really expecting much.

“She’s in your class, actually. Tachi Misaki?”

Your eyes stop registering any of the text that you’ve written. How did you miss that? How did you miss the fact that the girl he’d been dating was sitting only two rows away from you?

“Well,” you reply, clearing your throat. “All I can say is that you’re shooting above your level.”

“Hey! I’m not that bad, plus she’s really smart and pretty. She seems kinda low maintenance, pretty chill. Makes pretty good cookies. You think I could get her to learn how to make milk bread? But only if she has time.”

A heavy sigh leaves you as you stick a pencil between the pages and snap the notebook shut. Iwaizumi looks deep in thought before asking, “You think you’ll be able to handle her?”

“I mean, I’ve been going out on dates with her up ‘til now. She seemed fine and said she knew how busy my training schedule was. Like I said, she’s chill. Doubt she’s ever going to be super clingy or anything like that.”

By this time, you’ve all arrived at Oikawa’s house. He waves goodbye as he enters the front door, leaving Iwaizumi to walk you home.

“I give it three months, max,” you tell him. It’s mean, but you know Oikawa. He’ll be the most caring boyfriend in the beginning, but then he’ll get too comfortable, too complacent. He’ll unknowingly rely on the other person to comply with his needs rather than continuing to compromise to meet theirs. It’s only a matter of time before Misaki realizes that.

“I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt...maybe he’ll finally wake up, y’know. He’ll have an excuse to stop putting in extra practice or do something other than watching Shiratorizawa matches ‘til 2AM.”

At that, you cast a disbelieving look at him, his eyes catching yours. It isn’t long until you’re both failing to keep your laughter in. Oikawa Tooru? Ditching the opportunity for extra practice? Over his dead body.

Your estimation comes to fruition when Oikawa lightly dunks his forehead to lay on top of yours during the train ride home. The three of you had been standing near a pole, your own arm linked around it for some balance as you review and scribble some extra things into your notes from class. Oikawa is hanging on by a handle while Iwaizumi is grasping the part of the pole above your head.

“Misaki-chan broke up with me,” he spoke, loud enough for Iwaizumi to hear as well.

“Did she say why?” You ask, unable to move your head as you stare at the flap of his jacket.

“Becauseimtooobsessedwithvolleyball,” he mutters quickly.

“Say that again? And louder?” Iwaizumi teases.

Sigh. Straighten. “Because I’m too obsessed with volleyball,” he repeats a little bit louder, looking slightly ashamed and embarrassed that he, the great king of the court, the sole subject of so many girls’ affection, was ultimately dumped. The other part of the embarrassment masked the guilt he felt inside, having taken advantage of Misaki’s affections for him. Your eyes meet Iwaizumi’s, knowing that the conversation from months ago wasn’t said for naught. The sad, inevitable truth was there, and someone had to say it.

“It’s okay, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi nagged, patting the bachelor’s back. “You gotta make compromises, too.”

“But she knew! And we went on dates. That’s compromises, right?” Oikawa bemoaned, stubborn and petulant as ever. “It’s not like she wasn’t warned…”

“How many times did you guys go on a date?” You ask, attempting to get him to see reason. You know that the truth is there. He’s just fighting against full acceptance.

“Mmm, three times. No, four.”

“Three times in three months? Jesus Christ,” you mutter under your breath. “Okay okay, um, what’d you guys do on the dates?”

“(Y/n)-chan, are you jealous? You wanna go on a date with me?” He teases, a pointer finger poking your cheek. You squint at him before (gently) slapping the back of his head, causing him to rub the area out of mock pain.

“Ya, do you want to die?” You threaten. “I will throw you off this train if I have to.”

“Can I help?”

“Iwa-chan! Why are you on her side?? Shit, I need new friends.”

“Good riddance.”

“Stoooppp!”

From then on, Oikawa swears off girlfriends in high school. Everyone is too busy, and no one is going to understand him and be okay with what he does. Volleyball is his passion and dream, why is that so hard to get through people’s heads?

(But he knows that as much as he protests, he couldn’t give Misaki what she wanted. He wanted to make it work, he really did.)

The horde of fangirls only grows over the years. He’d rather hold a torch for no one than to try again. Nothing mattered more than a victory against Shiratorizawa and moving on to nationals. The fangirls’ affection would make up for any lack of a love life and Iwaizumi can only shake his head as a trail of hopeful hearts are left in the setter’s wake.

There are times when Oikawa is incredibly thankful for you, that at least he has some sort of close female companion that’s not his sister or mother. Even if you’re busier than ever, you still make time for him and Iwaizumi, whether it be attending their late practices or making sure that they finish their homework over the weekends. They can’t play if they’re failing classes.

(Y/n)’s personality is what he wants in a girlfriend, Oikawa realizes one night. Someone chill, someone understanding of his lifestyle, someone who goes out of their way to spend time with him. Someone he feels a connection with no matter the distance, someone he wouldn’t hesitate to go to if they needed him, someone who would always, always be there--

But he can’t possibly date you. Why risk losing you when he already has you within his grasp? There’s no need to worry about making time or planning for dates, no need to worry about coming up with a gift for White Day (as if he already doesn’t). There’s no need to worry about you leaving him now when his ugly, petty side manifests from time to time because you’ve seen it all. You would never leave him, he reaffirms to himself. You will always be by his side no matter where he is. He can always count on you to be in the bleachers during games, front and center, with the rest of the school cheer crowd. He can always count on you to lend him a shoulder, to pick up the phone at 4AM when he’s woken up anxious with thoughts going at a million a mile, to hand him two slices of milk bread on the weekends from their favorite bakery, to keep him in line with Iwaizumi.

Why risk voiding himself of all that, of so many memories, just to pursue the chance for some more intimacy?

And as Oikawa’s fingers hover over his lips, his mind reeling with flashbacks on how that kiss with you felt even two years later, the last thing he registers before succumbing to the nothingness of sleep is the painful tightening of his chest.

-

Oikawa is seventeen when he is reminded of how easy it is for him to lose you.

The three of you are sitting on a checkered blanket on top of a hill that overlooks the nearby area. A plastic bag holds a mix of canned beers and hard ciders, some empty and others waiting to be consumed. You’re taking it a little farther than you usually do, typically sipping one through the night. Yet you’re on your third and the two boys can only look at you with slight concern.

Your finals were particularly difficult -- part of you had still been recovering from the vicarious loss against Shiratorizawa, knowing how hard your two friends had taken it. It had only caused Oikawa and Iwaizumi to spend even more time in the gym after practice, a ferocity and drive in their muscles that you had never observed before. The amount of time and energy it took from you to forcibly change and drag them away from the court was substantial. Sleepless nights were dedicated to thinking of ways on how to lift them back up from whatever mental hell they created for themselves. In a sense, those nights paid off, but not without a price.

The alcohol tingles through your bloodstream and seems to slow everything down. You’re not drunk, but you don’t think you could appreciate the scenery before you as much as you are now if you were completely sober. Oikawa is going on about the constellations in the night sky, Iwaizumi teasing him relentlessly, and you can’t bother to fight the lazy smile that stretches across your face. Would you still have these nights with them if you had gone to Shiratorizawa?

“Did you know,” you softly interrupt them, unable to keep the secret any longer. It’s been two years, surely it couldn’t hurt. “Did you know...that I would’ve gone to Shiratorizawa if it hadn’t been for you two?”

The sound of cicadas has nothing on the sudden pounding of Oikawa’s heartbeat. Iwaizumi has an equally flabbergasted look on his face, searching your own as you pull up your knees and rest your chin on top of them. The lack of a verbal response only makes you chuckle, reaching down to grab your can and take another sip.

“Evidently it didn’t happen,” you drawl and then giggle. “Be-because I’m obviously at Seijou--”

“That’s not funny,” Oikawa interjects, voice hard and stern. “That’s not funny, you don’t get to say that and expect us to laugh it off. Why the fuck didn’t you tell us?”

“Why does it matter so much?” You mumble, suddenly desiring for the earth to open up and swallow you whole. “I clearly didn’t go, okay? Jesus--”

“No!” The setter yells, his face morphed by rage. “You were going to leave us? Why would that ever get into your brain, I mean, did we do something? Did we do something to push you to do something like that?”

“Hey, dude, calm down--”

“Don’t you get it, Iwa-chan? She was going to leave us and go to fucking Shiratorizawa of all places! She--”

“I thought you guys were going to accept their invite, okay?!” You interject, exasperated and frustrated. Evidently, you made a mistake in bringing this up now. “I didn’t realize how much you guys hated Ushijima’s guts and immediately changed plans once Aoba Johsai was on your agenda. So just stop, alright? It was two years ago and nothing’s gonna change.”

Oikawa pauses and attempts to reign in his anger. Why hadn’t you talked about it with them at the time? Why can’t he stop thinking about you donned in their maroon and white uniform, sitting casually in the bleachers of the gym, and instead of waiting for him and Iwaizumi, you’re waiting for Ushijima? Why can’t he stop thinking about how wrong that image looks, how much he’d like to be there and snatch you away because you’re his, you can’t abandon him--

“I’m sorry,” you apologize so mousily. Oikawa glances and sees the glisten of unshed tears, immediately relaxing and feeling guilty for being so hot-headed. It was the alcohol, for sure, he rationalizes before he turns to face you, scooching as close as possible to you. You’re still sitting in a fetal position as he slides one arm behind your waist and another wedges between your stomach and thighs. He buries his head into the crook of your neck. Your body welcomes the familiar heat and continues to relax as Iwaizumi lays his head on your shoulder. Instead of tears of sadness, you can only bask in the realization of how lucky you are two have these two doofuses in your life. The tears spill over as you sniffle, overcome with emotions that could only be so pronounced under the influence of alcohol.

“I’m so fucking lucky to have you guys,” you blubber. Oikawa’s grip tightens for a second as a tacit return of affection. “And I promised, didn’t I? I promised that I’d never leave you two, so you’re stuck with me. I wouldn’t wanna leave, even if you made me try.”

That’s right, Oikawa remembers. You promised -- and you would never go back on your word.

-

Oikawa is eighteen years old when he begins to truly understand the extent of your selflessness and how much of a selfish monster he can be when it comes to you.

It’s the night of their loss against Karasuno High, their last chance at defeating Shiratorizawa now gone and irreversible. Though tears had been shed towards his teammates, an overwhelming amount of gratitude and pride to have gone down fighting their hardest, the regret was eating at the two boys like nothing else.

Oikawa’s mother is working late -- you met them at the doorstep when they returned from the team dinner, saying nothing but holding up a bag of their favorite desserts. Minutes later, the three of you are a tangled and cuddled mess with the television quietly airing some old rerun of a child’s cartoon. It’s only when the boys’ cries have dwindled down into occasional sniffling do you dare to speak.

“I’m so proud of you two,” you begin but already feel yourself choke up again. “You did nothing but your best. I know how much this meant to you guys, but this isn’t the end. Time doesn’t stop here and you’re gonna go on to be even better players in uni. So don’t give up, okay?” You ask, hands squeezing whoever’s arm or arms you might be holding on to.

“Don’t give up when there’s so much left to fight for.”

They know you’re right. You’re always right in times like these.

Iwaizumi leaves about an hour later, eyes brighter and a small shit-eating grin on his face after about 13 brutal rounds of Uno. He won the majority of them, thankful that there was something to distract him for now. Oikawa promises to walk you home soon since it’s so late, earning a glare that could only mean “You fucking better, you shithead” and waving him off. Such a worry-wart. But when the front door clicks closed, the silence takes over once again.

Oikawa stands from the couch and stretches, gives a few twists before turning to look back at you. You’re curled up with your phone in hand, probably scrolling through social media or catching up on the news. “Hey,” he calls for you attention and holds out a hand. Don’t do this, he tells himself. “There’s something in my room that I need to return to you. Come with me?” Only delight fills his veins when you nod and set your phone down on the couch before sliding your hand into his. They stay linked as he leads you to his room, only separating when he lets go and you take refuge on this edge of his neatly-made bed.

As childish as he can be, you forget how tidy Oikawa is with his room. The books on his shelf are meticulously arranged by last name, photo frames strategically and aesthetically placed in empty spaces. His writing utensils are carefully arranged in a row on the side of his desk, and his drawer looks much of the same. Stapler, tape, sticky notes and tabs are all methodically placed, somehow speaking true to his leadership abilities.

Your observations are cut short when Oikawa sits down next to you with a book in hand, one that you had lent him months ago. To be honest, you completely forgot that he had it and you make it known to him.

“But did you like it?”

He nods with a small smile, yet his eyes are staring at the wall with a faraway look. He’s contemplating something, drawing plans in his brain, and after a couple of glances towards you, Oikawa gives in.

Much like that Friday afternoon four years ago, he leans his forehead on yours. A wave of deja-vu crashes over you as you’re once again plummeted into the dark ocean of his eyes. He keeps his gaze steady, searching for any kind of resistance. He needs something that only you can give him.

“You don’t have to say yes,” he whispers. You can feel a shiver crawl up your spine at the heaviness in his voice. “But I don’t know who else to ask. I don’t know why I can’t think of anyone but you.

“So can I please kiss you?”

What?

“But why?” You ask, the confusion so obvious in two words. Oikawa can only sigh to himself before carefully maneuvering you to straddle him, facing no objection from you. It’s just a kiss, he thinks to himself. It’s just a kiss that he wants with no strings attached to help with the emotional turmoil that only you could begin to understand. Your heartbeat feels like you’ve been swimming against the current for hours, your body betraying you as you let him bring one of your hands to his cheek. His eyes flutter closed and he languidly nuzzles into your palm, lips placing the softest, most intimate kiss there.

“I don’t know,” he breathes. Your heart aches and aches. “I swear that all I do know is that it can only be you. Please, please let me have this.”

And you can’t help but nod.

Unlike last time, Oikawa doesn’t surge forward. He instead bides his time, lips only barely ghosting over yours as he holds onto your waist. The contact becomes progressively fuller, more purposeful, as he completely slants his mouth over yours. In response, your fingers tangle themselves in the strands at the base of his neck and he finds himself drawing you closer to him, arms now completely wound around your waist.

This is a sin, he has to remind himself. This is a sin that only benefits him -- he is taking, he is stealing, he is feeding on an elixir at the cost of your soul. But his desires only overpower his guilt because as devilish as he may be, the sin feels like heaven. A paradise made by you created solely for him.

He catches your bottom lip between his teeth before gently sucking, eliciting the most delicate moan from your throat. The sound only flips a switch in his head as he applies more pressure, desperate to hear it again. Mine, he thinks as he begins to litter kisses down your neck, teeth catching skin to leave marks on you. Mine, he screams to himself as his hands peek under the edge of your shirt, skin on skin.

“Tooru--” you pant, trying to lean back and gather your thoughts. This is too much to handle. If you’re not careful, you’ll unlock the only thing that you swore you’d take to your grave, the three words that could ruin everything.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps before diving in for another quick kiss. “I’m not asking for sex. I just need you,” he confesses, pecks littered between his words. Oh, how you wish this were under different circumstances. How you wish that you could utter those three words without a care in the world and know that they’ll be reciprocated. Your lips meet his again and it feels like the earth has stopped on its axis.

Both of you are unaware of the amount of time that passes. Fervent kisses slowly diminish to a languid pace until it comes to a complete stop. Oikawa can only lean his forehead against yours, eyes hooded and chest heaving with you in a similar state. Neither of you have enough energy to find the right words. His arms only draw you into his chest and he can’t help but marvel at how perfect of a fit you are for him.

“I should probably head home,” you whisper. Being the man-child that he is, he shakes his head vehemently and momentarily refuses to let you escape his embrace.

“Do you have to?” He tiredly grumbles, reluctantly loosening his grip with a sigh as you slide off his lap. You nod and bend forward to give him one last kiss, the separation causing him to whine. You make your way towards his body-length mirror, attempting to smooth out the wrinkles and fix your hair. Oikawa hugs you from behind, his limbs wrapping around your shoulders.

“We’re okay, right?”

You nod. Don’t we have to be?

-

And that’s when Oikawa Tooru begins to slip through your fingers.

It’s a combined effort, really. Everybody’s trying to wrap things up, all the big competitions are jam packed into the last remaining weekends, and making room for last-minute college entrance exams. If people weren’t already at their wit’s end, then you can barely fathom the amount of anxiety and stress coursing through the halls of the school.

You use this to your advantage, finding yourself unable to go home with the boys, unable to visit them on the weekends, unable to respond to text messages frequently. You begin to learn to look past Oikawa rather than at him, not bothering to spare a second glance when he’s caught in the hallways by a group of infatuated admirers. You fail to see the way his eyes follow your passing figure or how he slows his pace when walking by your classroom, hoping to get a glimpse of you. You fail to see the disappointment on his face when your spot in the bleachers is empty. So he falters, redirects, and lets the distance increase.

The only time you reconvene with the two is after the graduation ceremony. Your mother would kill you if you left without a picture of you and your best friends, and clearly their mothers are thinking the same thing. Outside in the courtyard, the women spot each other, your mother almost dragging you behind her. They’re trying to find their respective sons, though it doesn’t take long because the sudden clambering and screaming of girls can only serve a few purposes. Oikawa and Iwaizumi are craning their heads before they’re able to finally spot the frantic waving from their mothers.

Soon, they’re in front of you, both individually giving a hug. “Congratulations,” you tell them with as much happiness as possible. It’s not like this will be the last time you’ll see them -- you’re all attending the same university. They thank you and return the festivities. It’s hard to miss how your hug with Oikawa lasts a little bit longer than normal, even more so when his hands trail down your arms before slyly slipping a small object into your hand. As you unfurl your fist, a shiny circular object is gleaning back at you. You spot a stray thread from his jacket and it hits you -- the devilish fox has given you his second button. You’d like to pretend to be unaffected, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“And if I don’t accept?” You challenge. For a second, Oikawa is genuinely taken aback. It’s obvious he didn’t expect you to consider rejecting the button and stumbles over his attempts to come up with a comeback. When he spots you fighting to contain your laughter, his embarrassment only pushes him to lightly shove your shoulder.

“For being my best female friend,” he elaborates. You deserve an award for containing the pain and bearing through it, pretending that his words don’t faze you in any ways. Iwaizumi only shakes his head at his friend’s idiocy -- what is he thinking?

“Oh I’m sorry,” you apologize in a mocking tone, pretending to bow. “Should I be groveling at your feet now like the other girls back there? Oh great king?”

“Why yes, I am indeed the great king--”

Smack. “You’re such an idiot,” Iwaizumi reprimands. The recipient of the hit pretends to bawl, resuming his childish antics once again.

That’s how high school ends, with two aching hearts and three families of laughter, all making way for the start of university.

-

Oikawa somehow makes it possible to balance his love life, volleyball, and his business major. Both he and Iwaizumi blend in nicely with the university team as your words from before ring in their brains. They could and are becoming better players -- high school suddenly seems so casual compared to the stakes at the university level. Teammates are constantly being scouted and the two begin to strive for the national team. Despite the fact that they barely see you anymore, Oikawa still dreams of his ideal future: he and Iwaizumi playing for Japan in Tokyo, with you having a job there and supporting them in the stands.

Sometimes he’s able to spot you on campus -- the building for the pharmacy program that you’re enrolled in is relatively far from the business building. Most times you’re walking with your classmates, giggling at something or engaged in a heated discussion. He thinks about how beautiful you look in your white coat with your hair tied back, your face donned with some makeup for the natural look and a pair of dainty earrings. Part of him boils in jealousy whenever there’s a male acting particularly close with you, but he knows he has no right to think that way. The thoughts only fuel him during volleyball practice, which seems to satisfy his coach.

It’s easy for him to like someone, he figures out two years in. It’s easy for him to get to know someone and pick up on their quirks. As a social butterfly, it’s not difficult for him to get along with his partner, but when it comes to developing deeper feelings...it just doesn’t happen. He wants so badly to reciprocate, especially considering how much effort some of his past partners have put in. But something stops him every time -- unwillingly, he’s become a master at letting people down easy, that he’s truly sorry he can’t reciprocate their love. On the other hand, Iwaizumi is pretty successful in his current relationship, going strong for the last year and a half. Oikawa seeks his advice at the club one night, keeping an eye out to see if there’s anyone he'd be willing to take home (not that he ever does).

At this point, Iwaizumi wonders how he’s still friends with him. Yes, he’s fiercely loyal and has been by Oikawa’s side since the beginning, but if the guy was going to do nothing but continue his descent into idiocy, there was very little he could do for him. (Y/n) had the same problem as Oikawa except you figured it out much, much faster.

“You idiot, you’re in love with another person.”

“...say what now?”

“That’s all it is. You’re in love with someone else. That’s why you feel like you can’t say it back when a different person tells you they love you.”

“If I was in love with someone else, wouldn’t I know?”

Yeah. Oikawa Tooru is a big, bumbling, messy pile of denial.

“You know what,” Iwaizumi sighs, setting his drink down before paying the tab. “You’re right. You’re in love with yourself.” Oikawa knows that he’s joking. Nothing could be farther from the truth -- he’s always dedicated himself to the happiness of others. That’s the role of him as a setter and captain: to bring out the best of his teammates’ abilities, but he can only do that if he’s at his best as well. His eyes cast another look into the dancing crowd. He downs his drink as someone catches his attention, also moving to pay his tab.

“Tell your girlfriend I said hi!”

Iwaizumi only gives him a lazy wave as he makes his way to the entrance. Oikawa is sliding his way onto the dance floor and when Iwaizumi spots who he’s wormed next to, he hopes that one day, Oikawa will really open his eyes.

Because he’s always going for girls who look wildly similar to you.

-

It’s hard to have an undefeated season. Some losses are harder than others and during the first two years, you, sweet, sweet (y/n), always managed to find him.

He needed you most on those rare days. Even after weeks of limited texting and quick passings on campus, there was a level of comfort that solely existed by being with you. He would attempt to joke and tease with you to put up a facade, but when you would lead him to his couch and leave your arms open, the veil would drop as he cried into your shoulder. He would then pick up his terrible, terrible habit of giving into sin (as long as he wasn’t dating anyone), selfishly knowing that you would never say no. He’ll ask you if this is okay, and you always say yes. The two of you never cross the line of anything more than making out, yet the kisses become less lust-ridden and more tender over time, laced with something much more meaningful.

(And with each time, it becomes harder and harder to refrain yourself from confessing.)

Oikawa reveled in being able to sigh against your lips, stealing your breaths from your lungs and even convincing you to stay the night. There were mornings when he truly felt that there was nothing better than waking up with his arm around your waist. He could squeeze you to his chest and wish for this all day. Sometimes, you woke up earlier than him and silently admired how peaceful he looked compared to the haggardness just hours before. With his hair so delicately splayed across his forehead, the ends curling up to defy gravity, a tiny scar dusting his right cheek, you would be painfully reminded of just how much you love him.

The last time you woke up next to him, you thought to yourself, “I can’t do this anymore.”

In the beginning of the third year, you fight every cell in your body to not go to him. Instead, you call him up and ask how he’s doing -- he doesn’t question it, doesn’t demand that you come see him. If there’s something preventing you from visiting him, he won’t ask about it. Even only a call brings him the warmth that he usually craved from you, though he knows nothing can satisfy him like your physical presence. The routine continues, volleyball practice becomes longer, and Oikawa thinks he’s finally getting used to this. This is the farthest you’ll distance yourself from him. There’s no way that you’d ever be more than a train ride away.

“are you guys free for coffee this weekend?” The text reads in the group chat. (Y/n) knows they don’t have a game, one of the rare breaks they get. Oikawa and Iwaizumi have the same schedules, so when Iwaizumi texts back “yh, where at?”, it’s for both of them.

“our favorite cafe restaurant by the bookstore okay? 1pm? my treat?”

“sounds good. see you then.”

“see you guys xx”

They think nothing of it -- it’s just a rare moment that everyone is free and able to catch up. Both dress up in their best casual streetwear, Oikawa even donning the glasses that you like so much. He’s nearly buzzing with excitement at finally being able to talk with you and have you within arm’s distance. Everything is normal when they walk into the cafe, spotting you in the corner booth. You’re quick to match their grins and give them both hugs, watching in delight as their eyes take in the milk bread, agedashi tofu, and a few other shareable dishes. They’re starting to think this is a bit of an apology meal for not having seen them in forever. It’s nice that whenever the three of you are together, there’s no awkwardness and everything seems to be back to normal.

Like how it’s supposed to be. But all good things must come to an end, right?

“It’s so nice being here with you two,” you laugh as you lean back against the vinyl leather. “I’m glad we could do this.”

“We need to do this more often,” Iwaizumi agrees. “We don’t have as many classes since we’re juniors now. Practice is still always the same so we should have more time to meet up. What about you?”

“Same here. Actually,” you pause, hesitant and scrambling for words. You’ve even rehearsed what you’re about to tell them, yet everything has been forgotten.

“I’m...I’m applying to doctoral programs in America.”

The boys look like two deer caught in the headlights. Oikawa is immediately filled with a sense of dread and fear -- his worst nightmare is slowly transforming into reality, unearthing its ugly head. A train ride is one thing, but a 13 hour plane ride? Time differences? A whole different country on the other side of the world?

“That’s...wow. That’s um,” Iwaizumi clears his throat. “That’s a big move. Why did you decide on America? I thought you wanted to start working after?”

“I’m enjoying pharmaceutical research more than I ever thought I would. We just actually got back from an international conference a few weeks ago -- there were so many interesting topics and studies being done. And...I thought it’d be nice to travel somewhere, you know. Have a change of pace.”

And you’re not completely lying. You’ve never really been outside of Japan before. Part of you wants to travel and see more of the world, especially after the conference in Berlin. Famous structures and streets that had been mere images on your computer or phone screen were suddenly physically before your eyes. You wanted to gain a better grasp of what it could offer and what you’ve been missing out on.

The other part of you felt stuck here. You needed an excuse to end the never-ending cycle that was Oikawa. It was an infinite loop of running to him, falling into his arms, attempting to put an obstacle on the bridge between you two, but then crossing over it to fall back into his arms again. You were never close to being free of him, not that you wanted to, but you wanted to know who you could be almost nearly without him. You wouldn’t be you if you were completely void of Oikawa Tooru. He would always have a part of your heart and be a part of your soul, no matter what.

“When would you leave?” Oikawa timidly asks, his gaze directed towards the crumbs on his plate.

“I’m actually on track to graduate by the end of this academic year. If I find a research group that wants me and is willing to provide me with adequate funding...I’d probably leave pretty soon after graduation. Y’know, get settled, meet my group, and...yeah.”

Silence ensues as the two boys figure out what to say. Your leg is bouncing restlessly beneath the table, fingers quietly tapping the side of your cup. Iwaizumi seems to be taking it pretty well, but Oikawa...you can’t tell.

All emotion is wiped from his face. He’s choosing to pierce holes in the wall by your head and his arms are crossed in front of his chest. He’s trying so hard to be mature about this and be happy for you, yet all he can register is the fact that you’re leaving. You’re leaving them, you’re leaving him, you’ll be gone forever and you’ll never come back, you’re going to find new friends, a new partner, a new bed that belongs to someone else to fall asleep in, oh how wretched--

“We’re gonna miss you,” Oikawa says, voice barely any louder than the tranquil music playing over the speakers. You feel like you’ve been transported back to when you were ten and breaking the news of quitting volleyball, hearing the same four words spoken in a very similar manner. Your heart settles and softens, you relax and reach over the table to grab one of their hands in each of yours. Iwaizumi doesn’t hesitate to give a friendly squeeze while Oikawa’s grip is only limp at best. But after a few seconds, it tightens and tightens until you understand the message: please don’t go.

“We’ve spent our whole lives together. I’ve told you two this before and I’ll say it again -- I’m so lucky that I have you guys. Part of me is able to do this because I know you’ve always got my back and I know that’s not going to change, even when I’m halfway across the world. So keep in touch? Please?”

“Of course,” Iwaizumi reaffirms and Oikawa nods. You express your thanks and retract your hands, trying to ignore the way that Oikawa’s fingers linger for as long as they can without being too obvious. The three of you eventually leave, bidding goodbye to your waitress and cashier, and continue to amble down the streets. Time always flies when you’re with them, conversation never truly ending. Eventually Iwaizumi has to leave to meet his girlfriend for dinner and Oikawa, being the gentleman that he always is, ensures that he’ll bring you home safe and sound. As the two of you wave goodbye and watch him disappear into the crowd, Oikawa offers his arm to you. He sees the pleasant surprise on your face and can’t help the smile on his own as you wrap your hand around the crook of his elbow.

The two of you continue to chat -- you fill him in on all the little details of your life that he had missed. In return, he does the same, eliciting so many different emotions from you. The pain in your heart increases when you realize just exactly how far away you’ve been from him. You choose to ignore that he’s taking the long way to your apartment, relishing in this rare time you have with him. Oikawa is the only person to make you feel like there truly wasn’t enough time in the world to spend with the one you love.

This must be what it’s like to date you, he realizes. Your hand is still wrapped around his arm, even when the limb became tired and settled for tucking his hand into his jacket pockets. He drinks in every laugh, every scoff, every grin, every gasp of surprise. Very few things bring him greater satisfaction than the way your eyes sparkle when he buys one of your favorite snacks off a food cart or when he points out something that reminds him of you. He never wants you to let go -- all he wants now is to collapse into your bed and wake up with his arm around your waist once again.

Before he knows it, they’re in front of your door, fiddling with your keys. He leans against the wall by your door as you locate the right one, but you hesitate.

“This was really fun. Thanks for basically spending your whole day with me.”

“I wouldn’t trade it for the world,” he replies, unable to stop the words from flowing out of his mouth. “It’s been a while since we’ve hung out like this.”

“Yeah, it has been.”

Silence.

“I guess I’ll see you around?” He asks with eyes full of hope. You’d have to be blind to not notice them, yet you would still be able to tell by the tone of his voice.

“Of course,” you reply with a small smile. “Until you get sick of me.”

Oikawa scoffs, but puts on a sincere face as he quips back, “Never.”

In all the years that you’ve been friends with him, nothing has ever sent blood rushing to your cheeks so fast. Your heartbeat quickens at an alarming rate and it doesn’t help as he begins to lean down, getting closer and closer to your face.

At the last second, he dips his head to the right and places a soft, lingering kiss on your cheek. Before you can blink twice, he’s already walking backwards with the cheekiest grin on his face, a cute little wave towards you. He then turns on his heels and makes his way to the elevator with a bit of a skip in his step.

You don’t even remember unlocking your door and toeing off your shoes. Your entire body feels like lead, yet also buzzing with excitement. And as you’re collapsed on your bed, staring at the ceiling, all your brain can comprehend and tell you is that Oikawa Tooru is truly the bane of your existence.

-

Oikawa does his best to stay true to his word.

Even with fewer classes, there’s always something that he needs to finish: that project, this homework assignment, extra practice -- sometimes, he wishes he hadn’t been in uni. Or at least picked a different major. When he can, he tries to visit you on nights, sometimes sheepishly empty-handed, other times holding a bag of your favorite pastries. “Are you trying to fatten me up?” You joke one night before biting into your favorite flavor of macaron. “More to hold and hug,” he teases back, causing you to give him a light whack on his arm.

He’s there when you nervously submit all your applications. He’s there when you receive offers to interview. He’s there when you get your first official acceptance. And of course, he’s there when you make your final decision. There’s no hesitation when you jump into his arms after submitting your confirmation of acceptance to University of California – San Francisco, though he wishes you could be there forever. Weeks begin to roll by, much quicker than he’d like. The usual cheery and joyful chattiness of when he usually visits evolves into comfortable silence, both of you settling for watching some space documentary on Netflix most nights. Oikawa hates how the inevitable is slowly creeping up his spine and more often than not, he’s torn between wanting to either just rip the Bandaid off or try to stop time.

The approaching reality of you physically leaving him starts to take its true form when you ask him to tag along on the hunt for suitcases. You want to get at least one of those large suitcases that have to be checked in to try to bring as much stuff as possible. The whole time, Oikawa is half numb, though he tries his best to give his honest opinions on the suitcases you consider. He knows what a big step this is as he watches you eagerly pay for your final selection. However, nothing hits him harder than when he comes into your apartment a week before your graduation and there’s a wide array of empty, mismatched cardboard boxes in every room.

To drive the stake in even further, the recently purchased suitcase lies wide open in your bedroom with some stray objects already neatly tucked in. Yet the one that catches his eye is a picture frame placed in a bubble wrap sleeve. It holds the physical memory of you, him, and Iwaizumi at your high school graduation, each person with their own bouquet of congratulatory flowers. There’s a reason you have this specific shot framed out of all the ones between the parents combined; reason being the fact that Oikawa isn’t looking at the camera lens, but rather looking at you.

His eyes glinted with pride and care in that picture, a certain softness in his posture. The picture has always sat demurely in a back corner of your desk. However, some friends or recent classmates that have been in your room have taken note of it, excitedly asking you, “Is this your boyfriend??” It’s more painful when you have to tell them he’s not, only just a very close childhood friend. A very close childhood friend that you’ve kissed multiple times and will always give your heart to, but you leave that part unsaid. .  

Oikawa spends the night with you, taking much longer than usual to fall asleep. You’ve already passed out next to him, mouth slightly agape and hands curled up near your face. Quietly, he adjusts his weight onto his elbow, leaning his cheek into his hand. His other hand gently tucks the strands of hair that have fallen over your face behind your ear. To him, you look nothing short of angelic. He hates that he’s only able to spend time like this with you as the clock is ticking -- he wishes that he made more of an effort to meet and see you during your first two years. Perhaps he wouldn’t feel so anxious at the thought of you leaving. Perhaps the two of you would’ve established something that would guarantee your return.

At this thought, Iwaizumi’s words ring in his head.

You’re in love with someone else, that’s why you feel like you can’t say it back when a different person tells you they love you.

They continue to ring as he finally falls asleep. They ring as he only wakes up hours later, settling on trying to quickly whip up breakfast for you. They’re loudest when you quietly pad up to him and rest your chin over his shoulder, nearly scaring the shit out of him. Even then, his body can’t help but relax from the feeling of your body pressed against his back.

Even as he prepares for his finals, you’re in love with someone else.

Even in the midst of presenting a final project for class, you’re in love with someone else.

All the way up until he’s parked in a seat, arms cradling a bouquet of your favorite flowers, tucked between Iwaizumi and your mother at your graduation ceremony, you’re in love with someone else.

And when he’s cheering his loudest for you as you cross the stage, pausing to shake the university’s president’s hand and receive your diploma, his heart finally settles on the unshakeable truth that he probably knew all along.

I’m so fucking in love with (y/n).

“I’m so fucked,” he mutters to himself, but not quiet enough because Iwaizumi catches it.

“What’d you do, shithead?” He leans in to ask so your mother doesn’t hear. Oikawa only shakes his head, his leg subconsciously beginning to bounce anxiously. Iwaizumi takes a look at the leg, then a look at his face, and when he catches how Oikawa’s eyes follow you happily ambling off the stage, the realization hits him like a ton of bricks. After years and years of living in pure oblivion, Oikawa has finally understood just how much he loves you.

“God, you have such shit timing, you dickhead,” Iwaizumi groans, fingers pinching and massaging the bridge of his nose.

“What did he do?” His girlfriend on his other side asks. He leans over to briefly kiss her cheek, murmuring a “I’ll tell you later,” in her ear before turning back to his best friend.

Oikawa feels like a nervous schoolboy with the way his face is construed, his hands grasping the flower stems like it’s his lifeline. He begins to think about how he should confess to you – should it be during a candlelit dinner? On the roof of your apartment under the stars? Should he take you to a park or by the beach? A million more scenarios run through his head as the rest of the graduation ceremony proceeds. He stands in a daze as the students begin to file out, the families in the stands soon following suit. His body stiffly stands to follow your family and creaks like a rusty robot, absolutely unprepared to face you with his new revelation. The only thing that brings him out of his head is when Iwaizumi yanks him back by the collar of his shirt, practically choking him in the process. His throat coughs and fights for oxygen as he rubs at his neck, watching your mother disappear into the crows before turning to Iwaizumi with a pitiful and defeated look.

“What the hell was that for, Iwa-chan? Why—”

“You are not telling her right now, you hear me?” Iwaizumi threatens in a hushed voice.

“But—”

“She’s leaving. In a week. To America. Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“Can’t that be for her to decide? She can turn me down, but I need to tell her!” Oikawa cries out as the three of them do their best to stay out of other people’s way, pressing themselves to their seats as much as possible. People are casting them either curious or nasty looks for being obstacles in an increasingly heated argument, but they could also care less.

Iwaizumi narrows his eyes at him, then stabs a finger to his chest. “What you want, what you need…it’s always been that way for you when it comes to her. Have you ever stopped to consider what she wants?”

“Of course I have, what do you take me for?!”

“What do I take you for?! I take you for an idiot who spent years taking advantage of her!” Iwaizumi drives his point by jabbing the finger on his chest again. “I take you for an idiot who knew that she could never say no to you and you still used her whenever it was convenient! You think you’ve been such a martyr—”  

“I didn’t do that! I—”

“Then prove it,” Iwaizumi hisses. “Prove to us that you genuinely care about what she needs. You know what she needs right now? She needs us, her friends, to go out there, find her, and congratulate her with flowers. Then, we’re gonna go to our favorite place with her family and celebrate her. Today’s about her and her achievements. We’re gonna be happy for her because that’s what she needs today. That’s what she deserves.”

Most of the crowd have trickled towards the lobby by now, leaving the three of them with a few student workers running around to pick up trash and stray programs in preparation for the next ceremony. Iwaizumi sighs, seeking comfort in the way that his girlfriend slides her hand into his. Everything that he had been holding in is now out in the open.

“You think you can do that, Tooru?” He asks in a calmer voice.

“…yeah.”

Oikawa tries his best to keep his feelings at bay. They threaten to spill when your eyes drink in the bouquet he’s brought for you, a pure smile of delight as you lean in to catch a whiff of your favorite flowers. It’s even harder when you give him a friendly peck on the cheek, quickly moving to give Iwaizumi and his girlfriend hugs. He can’t stop sneaking glances your way during lunch, watching how happy you seem to be as you verbally recall the last three years. His mind does its best to stay involved in the conversation, yet it doesn’t cease to drift towards Iwaizumi’s words. It’s heart-wrenching because everything he said was true – he had knowingly taken advantage of your lack of resistance, had knowingly acknowledged that he was committing a certain sin in life, driven by greed and desire. He knew years ago that he could never get enough of you and would never be able to.

“…your plans after this?” He hears your mother ask you, her voice reminding him to be an active participant in this chat.

“I kind of just want to go home and get out of this dress, probably start up my packing again. I had to put that on hold with finals and everything.”

“We can come help you if you want.”

“It’s okay, Mom. I might even take a nap first.”

“You can take a nap while I help you pack,” Oikawa interjects without a thought. He just wants more time with you. You look skeptical and he puts on an affronted expression. “I’m a really neat and organized packer, thank you very much. You think I’m some poor slob who can’t properly fold a shirt?”

“It’s exactly what I think.”

“Hey, don’t be so mean! I’ll prove it.”

“Fine,” you say with a smirk widening. “But I’m kicking you out if it isn’t up to my standards.”

“Yes ma’am!” He replies like a soldier, comically saluting with two fingers. Iwaizumi shoots him his best warning glare as the table resumes chatting.

About an hour later, the two of you are walking side-by-side in the direction of your apartment. The pace is slow with your heels on, especially as they become more and more painful. Eventually, you let out a big huff and stop in your path to slip off your heels, picking them up by the straps and letting them hang off your fingers. Your gown, stole, and chords are draped over your other arm, the other hand holding onto the cap and flowers. Oikawa watches as you sigh happily and wiggle your toes before you continue the trek barefoot. He’s terrified that you’ll get a staph infection and stops you.

Without saying anything, he takes the graduation gown from your arm and fits it over you, thankful that the bottom of it nearly reaches your ankles. Your arms have a mind of their own as they slip into the sleeves. He crouches for bit and fiddles a little bit before pulling your zipper up, then takes your cap and fits it onto your head. Before you can question his actions, he sweeps around to lift you up in his arms bridal style, causing you to yelp at the sudden motion. One of your arms is already swung around his neck, the other just trying to make sure your heels, chords, and stole don’t drop. Oikawa adjusts his grip a little, then looks down at you.

“You okay?”

You’re incredibly flustered, saying nothing but giving a few nods. He gently smiles before bringing you closer to his chest. Eventually, you place everything into your lap, leaving your other arm free to lie over the flowers on your stomach. You have an internal battle with yourself on whether you should link your free limb around his neck or not – do you want to come off as clingy? Would Oikawa mind? Would it make him uncomfortable? You soon decide, fuck it. You just graduated, you deserve to be pampered a little bit, even if it means treating yourself to indulging in one of your longtime fantasies with the man you secretly love.

Even though your face is already pretty close to his, by wrapping both arms around him, you’re practically nuzzling into the side of his neck. He smells faintly of the cologne that you gifted him last year for his birthday. It brings you fond memories of your life with him so far, how even through all the pain of unrequited love, every second has been absolutely worth it.

“Thank you,” you murmur and tighten your grasp. “For everything. For being my best friend, for always being there for me.”

“You don’t need to thank me, silly,” he replies affectionately. “You know we love you, right?”

“I know. I just wanted to make sure that you knew how much I appreciate it, that’s all.”

“…I’m so proud of you, (y/n). Look at you, finishing in 3 years and going to California for your PhD. Maybe I should’ve tried harder to convince you to stay in Japan, but I know you wouldn’t have been as happy. Is it too late to still try to persuade you?”

You unwind an arm to smack his chest lightly, playfully scolding him as you fully hold onto him again.

“Don’t even think about it. Of course it’s too late.”

“Well, then there’s no harm in still trying, right?”

“Tooru!”

“Okay, okay, fine~.”

-

Once you’re home, you grab random articles of clothing from your closet before heading into the bathroom to change. Oikawa offers to find a vase for the bouquet during this time, your ears hearing the clinking of glass and the snipping of stems. You didn’t realize you had grabbed Oikawa’s spare jersey he had given you the summer before your first year of university, only noticing after you begin to fit it over your head. The flush in your cheeks is subtle as you slip on a pair of pajama shorts, a giddy feeling filling your chest.

When you step out of the bathroom and towards the kitchen, Oikawa’s back is facing you as he continues to arrange the flowers. Something about the scene feels comfortably domestic, as if Oikawa just returned home from work and decided to surprise you with a little gift, insisting that he put it together for you. You’re almost expecting him to give you a kiss on the cheek before saying, “I’m home, dear.”

In the midst of your thoughts, Oikawa is satisfied with his work, grabbing the vase and turning with the intent to let you see his work. He startles when he sees you leaning against the wall and staring at him, yet his heart fails to calm once he realizes you’re in his jersey. Part of you suddenly feels shy with the way he can’t stop admiring you, yet another part is filled with newfound confidence. Your feet softly pad towards him, relishing in the fact that you can render the great Oikawa Tooru speechless. He lets you take the vase from him, still frozen in his spot as you gently place a kiss on the corner of his lips. If he were more composed and more cognizant of his actions, he would have taken you up in his arms and kissed you for real. You take the vase from his fingers and place it on your dining table, appreciating the delicate hue of the petals. It’s a shame that you’ll have to get rid of them soon since you’re leaving in a week.

“Come on, Tooru. Time for you to show me how good your shirt-folding skills are!”

Progress in packing is slow as the two of you talk and laugh, the sound of The Good Place quietly playing on Netflix from the small TV in your room softly filling the room. Eventually, Oikawa refuses any of your help, practically ordering you to stay in your bed and leave it to him. In the familiar warmth of your comforter, you fight to stay awake as exhaustion from the morning events creeps through your body. Before long, you’re taking a last look at Oikawa’s side profile sitting on your floor next to a pile of unfolded clothes and falling asleep soon after. It takes a few minutes for him to realize that you haven’t said anything in a while, only chuckling to himself when he sees you slipped away to the dreamworld.

For the next hour or so, he folds and packs your clothes in silence. The pile dwindles and shrinks until there’s none left, though there’s still some in your closet that you’ll be wearing over the next week. You’re still asleep on your side – he can’t find it in himself to wake you, instead doing his best to climb over you and sit on the empty side of the bed without jostling you. Just as he finds a comfortable half-lying, half-sitting position against a pillow and the headboard, you unconsciously do a full 180-degree turn and snuggle closer to him. One of your legs twists around his, your arm slinging over his waist.

Oikawa’s heart almost wants to fly out of his chest. Had it really been over a little more than a year since you last slept next to him? Was this going to be the last time that he’d experience this?

Was this going to be his last chance?

He must’ve nodded off in the end. Your voice speaks to him in his subconscious, softly calling out his name. His body is curled up on the side where you were sleeping, arms stretched out as he finally wills his eyes to open. His vision is blurry and heavily veiled with sleep, needing a few blinks to register that you’re bent over with your face very close to his. He wants to be wakened like this every day, to the sound of your voice rather than an obnoxious alarm tone from his phone. With all the strength he can muster, his arm reaches out to grab one of your wrists and gingerly pulls you towards him. You giggle as you snuggle into the little space you have, his arms hugging you tightly to ensure you don’t fall over the edge.

“Five more minutes,” he pleads, nuzzling into your hair. “Or we can go back to sleep, I don’t mind…”

“Tooru, we need to eat dinner though.”

“But I have you,” he mumbles without thought, clearly saying whatever first comes to his mind.

“That doesn’t make any sense though.”

“It makes all the sense in the world, silly (y/n)…come on, let’s sleep some more…”

“Even if there’s fresh omurice waiting to be eaten?”

“Mmm…did you make it?”

“Yes, I did.”

Oikawa sighs again before moving his hand from your back to rub his eyes. “Well, we can’t let your hard work go to waste then, right?”

“Not at all.”

You disentangle yourself and ignore how your body aches to lay with him again. Your hands take one of his own in your grasp, pulling him from the bed and towards the dining table where a fresh plate of omurice awaits them. Oikawa doesn’t forget his manners, pulling out a chair and indicating for you to sit in it. Like a true gentleman, he’s cognizant of how he pushes the chair back in to meet your sitting position, ensuring that you’re comfortable before moving to his own seat. The two of you say your thanks quickly before digging in.

Dinner is a quiet ordeal besides the occasional laughter. He tries to play footsies with you underneath the table, having full advantage with his longer legs. You threaten to flick rice at him if he keeps at it, but as time passes by, it’s clear your words hold no weight. Light banter continues when you bring the plates to the sink, refusing any offers of help from him. He settles for having an arm around your shoulders, leaning some of his body weight onto you. His eyes watch you with love and fascination as he berates himself for not figuring it out earlier. Things would have been different, and life would have been much better.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he murmurs, tone solemn and heavy as you begin to dry off the dishes.

“I know. But I’ll be back in a few years, you know?”

“A few years sounds like forever though.”

“It’ll be over before you know it, Tooru.”

“I know, but…”

“But what?”

He’s still searching for words when you’ve put the last plate in the drying rack, folding the towel neatly on the counter. You turn to face him directly, causing his arm to slide off your shoulders. He delicately grasps your hands with his and plays with your fingers, eyes focused on them and unable to meet your own. Iwaizumi’s warning voice blares through his head – why, why did he always have to be so selfish when it comes to you? Why did he always give in?

“Tooru, what—”

“I love you, (y/n).”

He’s gone and done it now. His eyes are ablaze with passion as they attempt to convey the depth of his feelings, boring straight into your own shocked gaze. He means it more than anything right now. You have to understand that he’s serious, that he doesn’t mean this in a platonic sense. Without a doubt, he would do anything for you. Could you see that in him?

He begins to panic when you slowly detach your hands, your expression hardening before you turn to occupy yourself with something else. You search for something before heading towards your living room and start packing the decorations into a cardboard box that’s cradled against your hip.

“(Y/n), please—”

“You don’t mean it,” you bite out and somewhat harshly smack a book into the box. “You’re only saying it because—”

“I’m not saying it just because you’re leaving, I swear,” he vows, following you as you pack away more things. “Just look at me—”

“How could you?!” You say accusingly, slamming your box onto the floor and whipping around to look at him. Oikawa isn’t entirely surprised by the tears streaming down your face, yet his heart still breaks at the sight.

“(Y/n), I—”

“What were you expecting?” You ask hoarsely, throat choked with tears. “Did you expect me to just accept it and run into your arms?! We’re going to be on opposite sides of the world for at least four years, and you wanted to start something with me a week before I leave?”

“I can’t lose you!” Oikawa cries out. He watches you collapse into your couch, head buried in your hands to control your sobs. He follows and sits as close as possible in front of you on the floor, reaching up to remove your hands from your face. “I can’t lose you more than I already have,” he whispers dismally, thumbs wiping tears from your cheeks. Out of fatigue, he places his cheek on your knees, eyes closing as you lay your hand on top of his head.

“Tooru, you—”

“I’ve been in love with you for years,” he interrupts, striving to get you to see how much this is for him. “I never knew what it was until recently, but you have to know by now that I would do anything for you. You can call me up at 4 in the morning, ask me for my umbrella even when I’m 20 minutes away. You could even ask me to drop volleyball, and I’d do it. Just to make you happy.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you depressingly chastise as your fingers give in and demurely run through his hair. “I would never ask you to give up volleyball, and even if I did, you’d resent me til the day we die. Hell, you’d resent me in your grave for all I know.”

“You’d still be my everything.”

At his words, you choke out another sob. This had been everything you were dreaming of, except Oikawa’s timing was just so off. You would have to spend the first four years of your relationship without him, and long distance wouldn’t be easy. Even though he would do everything to make it work, you’d worry about burdening him when he has so much he wants to live for. Wouldn’t it affect his playing? His studies? Would he eventually get tired of waiting for you and leave?

“Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?” You sniffle.

“The chance of a lifetime, that’s what I’m getting into,” he quickly replies. He turns to rest his chin where his cheek originally on, facing you with eyes of zero hesitation. His expression softens when he senses the doubt in your face and reaches up to remove your hands from his hair, grasping them softly and placing them on your thighs. “I’ve already wasted years not being with you, and I don’t intend to lose another second. So please, please give me this chance.”

Your head is dizzy with all this information. You need time, you need clarity. You need to think this out before diving in, no matter how much you want to comply right now.

“Let me think about it, ok?” You weakly propose. “This has happened all so fast and I just need some time to think it over. This is really big for us, and I just wanna make sure we’re doing the right thing.”

“I’ll wait forever if I have to,” he agrees, then ghosting his lips over your knuckles.

“You can’t see me until we’re at the airport though,” you add in, causing him to whine in objection. “I’ll give you my answer then. It’s just a week.”

“Can I still call you?”

“Of course, you big wuss,” you tease.

“Hey, I just confessed my feelings here, cut me some slack!” He cries, pouting afterwards. You somehow still have the energy to giggle at his antics, happy that some things never change.

“You need to leave soon, Tooru.”

“No,” he objects and wraps his arms around your legs. “I don’t wanna.”

“Tooru—”

“Only if you kiss me before I leave.”

You let out a sigh, yet still smiling. “Deal.”

He removes himself and gets out of the way, stretching as he stands when you push yourself off the couch. Even for the short distance from the living room to the door, Oikawa insists on holding your hand. He grabs every second he can with you, still holding on when he’s slipping his shoes on.

“I’m waiting for my kiss,” he says with a lilt in his voice. His eyes are shining and expectant, causing you to roll your own playfully. For the first time in 21 years, you’ll be kissing Oikawa with no feelings hidden, no motives unsaid.

He meets you halfway, softly cradling your cheek with his free hand. His lips against yours bring a wave of nostalgia – god, how you both missed this, the feeling of being able to lose yourself in another person. How you both missed forming that bubble again where nothing mattered but the two of you being there together. You can’t help but think about how much you’re going to miss this in America, how it’ll be months, years, before you can ever fall into Oikawa’s arms again.

Oikawa wants nothing more than to toe his shoes off and have you jump into his arms. He wants nothing more than to carry you to your room and show exactly how much he loves you, but it’s not in your wishes. Don’t be selfish, he reminds himself. You asked for time and space to think about your future with him – if he wants to make this work, thinking of solely his own desires needs to stop here. He must prove to you that it’ll be worth it, that there’s no reason to lose any more time than you’ve already lost.

“I’m sorry I made you wait,” he apologizes quietly.

“It’s okay. But consider this week as punishment, if you’d like.”

He pouts. “I really can’t come see you?”

You give a small grin, a pointer finger moving to tap his nose. “Nope.”

With that, he sighs begins to walk out the door, but not before stealing another peck. The action only makes you laugh and playfully push him over the door threshold, waving as he walks backwards with a pout. You don’t close the door until he’s turned the corner, nearly collapsing against it once the deadbolt is locked in place. Everything hits you all at once again, leaving you reeling and almost gasping for air. Your heart won’t cease its rapid pace, though it seems to come to a full halt when your phone chimes with a text message from him.

“Good night, (y/n). I love you.”

Yes, it’s amazing how lucky you are.

-

Without fail, Oikawa texts and calls you every day. He never fails to remind you that he loves you. Twice, he orders delivery to your door because he knows you need to pack your kitchen. A man who buys you food as a surprise and seems to always know what you’re in the mood for? It’s as if the universe is telling you to hurry up and marry this guy.

And Oikawa, trying to be the responsible person that he is, doesn’t see you until they’re sending you off at the airport. Your parents had offered to pick him and Iwaizumi up from his place, especially since it was a little early in the morning. A taxi drops you and your suitcases off at the gate. You hadn’t spotted them when you got in and made a move to go ahead and check your bags in. After you had finished dropping them off, you had turned around to wait outside of the check-in area and spotted the four of them chatting while waiting for you. Even with it being so early in the morning, you can’t help but break out into a smile at seeing them, speeding up your pace as much as you can with the carry-on suitcase lugging behind you.

“Thank you, guys, for coming all this way,” you express your gratitude while embracing Iwaizumi and Oikawa.

“What kind of shitty friends would we be if we didn’t?” Iwaizumi asks as you move to hug your parents. Your mother keeps an arm around you at the end, already fighting her tears.

“Mom…”

“Do you have everything you need?” She interjects, voice choking up. “Phone? Wallet? Passport? Boarding pass? New SIM card? Emergency cash?”

“They’re all here,” you say, pointing to the locations of each item. “I’m gonna be okay, mom.”

“Don’t hesitate to call us if you need anything, ok?” Your father reminds you. “We’re only a call or text away.”

“I know. I’ll try to make it home on the holidays or something, but if not, I’ll be back in a few years at least.”

“What if you end up meeting someone and want to stay in America with them?” Your mother sniffles, dabbing at her eyes with a napkin.

“Well,” you hesitate, casting a quick look towards Oikawa. When his gaze meets yours, you begin to feel more confident about the answer that you settled on yesterday. You know he’s anxious to find out what you’ve decided. “I’m sure that’s not going to happen. Can I have a minute with Tooru please? Alone?”

Your mother’s eyes widen in realization before she’s quick to shoo off your father and Iwaizumi. Once they’re out of earshot, Oikawa looks at you expectantly.

“Do I get my answer today?” He inquires, removing his hand from his jacket pocket to hold one of yours. You take the initiative to interlace your fingers with his, giving a tight squeeze.

“Mmm,” you hum while fishing out your phone with your free hand. Oikawa watches anxiously as you tap and scroll through something, breath baited as your eyes seem to light up at finding what you need. You turn the screen to him and ask, “Does that answer your question?”

At first, he’s confused. Oikawa sees a contact page open and automatically notices it’s his number. It’s not until his vision drifts back to the top of the page where his name usually was. In the past, it had been “crappykawa” with a smiling emoji, but to his delight, it now reads “the boyfriend­TM”.

His excitement prompts him to lift you from the waist and spin you around in a few circles. You shriek and shake with laughter as your arms instinctively wrap around his neck to hold on, your eyes closed tightly until he puts you down. Even then, he doesn’t detach himself from you and leans down to kiss you sweetly, never wanting to let up. It doesn’t matter that you’re leaving him in the next few minutes – he’d rather have this than nothing at all.

Minutes later and after more teary goodbyes, you walk through the line towards security. The four of them watch as you exchange pleasantries and answer questions by the guard checking your boarding pass and passport. Once you’ve been cleared, you turn around once more to give a final wave, before disappearing behind the gray walls. After you pass security and find somewhere to eat a quick breakfast, you check your phone. There’s a Snapchat from Oikawa that you immediately move to open. It’s a selfie taken at an angle where his phone would’ve been in his lap. He has his characteristic pout on his face and the caption reads, “i already miss you, my love.”

And at that moment, you know, you can feel it with every ounce of your being, that everything is going to be okay.

-

(epilogue)

Months after you moved to California, Oikawa received his invite to play for a professional volleyball team in Argentina. He consulted his closest friend, you, his coaches, and they all agreed on one thing: he’d be stupid to turn it down.

It wasn’t the Japan national team, but it was definitely an opportunity of a lifetime. He greatly admired the national Argentine team as a child, and that admiration never wavered. On the plus side, it would make the long-distance relationship easier with you, as the time difference would be cut significantly.

The relationship experienced its ups and downs. Some main recurring themes of contention involved his tendency to overwork himself and your frequent late nights in the lab, as well as your disregard for your physical and mental health during times of high stress. They were issues born out of love and care, and they were worked on to help each other improve. You’d always livestream his volleyball matches and he would attempt to stay up with you on a video call if you were in the lab or up late studying, reminding you to drink water and eat something nutritious.

Oikawa found time to visit you during rare extended breaks in the off-season. He’d always make sure that you two would video call Iwaizumi together, wearing a shit-eating grin when Iwaizumi would pick up the call and roll his eyes. In return, you saved up and visited him in Argentina, though only able to stay up to a week at most. The new life was a little difficult and strange, but he made it work. He loved his teammates, he loved you, he loved volleyball, and he couldn’t ask for more.

You finished your doctorate in four years, just as you had predicted. You already had a job lined up before graduation at an academic hospital in Tokyo, allowing you to practice pharmacy and continue research. Not only that, Iwaizumi also earned a position in the top volleyball team in Japan, leaving Oikawa to be ecstatic. His personal dream from so many years ago was finally coming together – the three of you together in the same city, and him and Iwaizumi on the same superior team, even if it meant playing with Kageyama Tobio and Ushijima Wakatoshi. But he’d get used to it eventually.  

When you first returned to Tokyo, you were happy to see that not much had changed. Oikawa had another couple of years in Argentina before he would return to Japan and join Iwaizumi on the team. A few weeks in, you were already enjoying your job immensely – the only thing missing was your boyfriend.

A year has passed, and you are currently sitting at home in front of the TV with a mug in your hands. You’re dressed down in your comfiest sweatpants and Tooru’s jersey from university days. A white gold chain holding a simple silver ring hangs daintily around your neck as a token and symbol of a promise. You check your phone and frown a little – Tooru hadn’t texted or called you all day, though he did mention he would be busy with preparing for an upcoming practice match. You’re now worried that Tooru’s overworking himself again, holding the device now to send a quick text reminder to take breaks and stretch afterwards.

You toss your phone to the side and try to focus on the humorous game show, picking up on how ridiculous some of the antics were. American game shows had nothing on the ones here in Japan.

Someone rings your doorbell. At first, you think it’s the postman dropping off a package you had been expecting and make no move towards the door. But the doorbell is rung once again, leaving you to hesitantly approach the entrance. You peek through the spyhole and spot a young man outside, hat slipped on backwards, glasses perched on his nose, and hands stuffed into his pants pockets. He’s looking away from you and has suitcases around him, but you can recognize that side profile from anywhere. Could it be?

You fumble with the lock and throw open the door as your heart threatens to beat out of its chest. The young man finally looks up at you and you gasp as tears spring forward to your eyes.

Oikawa Tooru is standing right in front of you with the most beautiful smile on his face that you have ever seen.

He’s ready to catch you when you squeal and run into his arms, dissolving into laughter as you blubber into his neck and attempt to make sense of what’s happening. Tooru spins you around a few times for good measure, relishing in the comfort of your body against his. It had been too long since he last held you, and luckily, he’d never have to wait that long ever again.

His invite came as a phone call not too long ago, personally from the coach of the team that Iwaizumi had joined. They were willing to wait for him if he wanted another year in Argentina as he had originally planned, but Tooru decided that it was time to come back. He had buzzed with excitement as he planned out his great return, wanting so badly to surprise you. It’d go down in the book as one of the best reveals of a major life change for the two of you, and he wanted it to be perfect.

“How—what—when—I have so many questions!” You stammer, hands reaching for his face to make sure that this is real. Tooru leans into your palm, eyes catching the glisten of the promise ring that he had gifted you two years ago. He was a little worried that it wouldn’t be noticeable enough (“I need people out there to understand that you’re spoken for!” “What are you, a prince of the medieval days?”), but he did appreciate how beautiful it looked when you wore it as such. The happiness he feels right now is more than he could have ever imagined, especially now when he can finally look into your eyes and say the words that he’s been yearning to speak for years to you —

”I’m home, (y/n).”

-

fin.

[puckinghell]

11:11 | Carter Hart

Summary: Hockey players are a little superstitious, so wishing on shooting stars, rainbows and dropped penny’s isn’t a rare occurrence. Normally, they’re wishing for things like wins and awards and cups, but Carter has a little something else on his wishlist.  Words: 2,5k Note: based on the song 11:11 by Jae Jin which is the cutest songs I’ve ever heard. Note 2.0: This has been sitting in my concepts for over a year cause I just don’t love it but I like it too much to throw it away, so I finally decided to just post it and be done with it. Hope you guys like it anyway!

---

It’s a well known fact that hockey players are superstitious. 

It’s a better known fact that hockey goalies are stupidly superstitious. 

So far, Carter has been trying to break the stigma, and he’s pretty damn good at it, thank you very much. He doesn’t care if he puts on his left or right skate first, he doesn’t have to turn the shower on and off twice, there’s no pregame meal better than others. Winning games depends on how well he’s playing, not on setting his alarm at 4:32 when he takes his pregame nap.

Carter isn’t superstitious, but he is a little stitious - and he’s watched The Office way too many times, clearly. There’s just one thing he can be superstitious about. Only one thing. 

You.

---

You’ve been sitting on your porch, sketchbook in hand, drawing your neighbor’s dog. He’s big and black and at 11 years old, you’re not really sure if you’re supposed to be scared of him. He looks a bit scary, but he’s never done anything bad, and your parents don’t seem to mind him.

It’s hot outside. Too hot, really, to be outside your air conditioned living room, but your brothers are yelling inside and you just wanted some peace and quiet.

Some peace and quiet, and to stare at the boy next door. 

He’s a little older than you, a lot taller too, and he’s always intimidated you a bit. Sometimes he hangs out with your brothers, who are older too, but today he’s with some boys from around the neighborhood. 

They’re playing street hockey, like they usually are. You like watching them play; it’s such a fun game to watch, and you really wish you could try it, see if it’s fun to play too.

But your brothers always tell you to go away, and you’ve not had the guts to ask Carter. That’s the boy next door’s name; you heard it one time when his mom called him in for dinner. 

You’re focused on where the dog’s ears meet his head - on your paper it doesn’t quite look right - when something goes flying past your head.

“Duck!” you hear someone yell, but you’d already ducked in reflex. A plastic ball comes zooming past your ear, hits the wall behind you and bounces back; it rolls past your feet and ends up in front of somebody else’s.

“Are you okay?” the same voice asks, a little worried, and when you look up it’s Carter staring at you with wide eyes. “Did he hit you?” 

It takes a while for his words to synch into your brain, but then you shake your head. “No, he didn’t.”

Carter smiles, at that. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I’ve told Alex his aim is so bad he shouldn’t be allowed to play in public, but he didn’t believe me.” 

The other guy, Alex you presume, comes running over, his hockey stick still in his hands. “Shit, sorry,” he says, and you’re pretty sure you’re not allowed to say that word but you don’t mention it. 

“It’s okay,” you say instead. “You didn’t hit me.” 

“Maybe keep an eye on the clock,” says Carter to his friend. “If it’s 11:11, you can wish to actually hit the target, some time.” 

“If you catch 11:11 you can wish to actually make a save,” Alex shoots back.

“If I caught 11:11 I would wish for you to shut up,” Carter snaps back and that’s when you giggle.

Instantly, both the boys turn to you. Carter is grinning at you, a wide and happy grin that makes it impossible for you not to grin back. “What would you wish for, if you caught 11:11?” he asks.

You know the answer; it’s right there on the tip of your tongue and it tumbles out with thinking, words filled with earnest honesty like only those of a kid can be.

“I would wish that I could play hockey.” 

The boy in front of you smiles, yanks the hockey stick out of his friend’s hands and extends it in your direction.

“Come play,” he says. “It’s not like you could be any worse than Alex, anyway.” 

And under loud protest of Alex, a new friendship is born. 

---

Your 16th birthday party is crazy exactly the way 16th birthday parties are supposed to be, with beers snuck into the kitchen as your parents go away for the night, telling you again and again that you can always call them if you need them, even if you think they’ll be mad.

There’s loud music everywhere, and people; you don’t even know half of them, but your brothers promised you they’d make it a party to remember and they’ve kept their promise.

The thing is, well, you’re not the biggest fan of parties, actually. You thought it would be cool, would be like in the movies and you’d feel all grown up and cool, but instead you feel a bit lost, with the noise of the people too loud and their drunken dancing having you worried about your parents furniture.

You also found out you really don’t like beer. 

You get a Pepsi from the fridge, where some friend of your brother’s is mixing some of your dad’s rum into a bottle of Sprite - it doesn’t seem like a good match, but then again, you’ve never tasted rum - while your brother is eating cheese straight from the packet. 

It’s all a bit too much, too sudden, and you find yourself yearning for some peace and quiet, some familiarity.

You make your way to the back yard; it’s quiet, there, the October air a little too cold for your guests, and you sit down on the porch, wrapping your arms around your knees.

The music booms through the walls and you can still hear people screaming, but it sounds more muffled, and it allows you to breathe.

Almost immediately after you sit down, you hear the creak of the backdoor and footsteps against the wood of the porch, and then a familiar body sits next to you, smelling like foresty cologne and floral laundry detergent. 

“Hey,” Carter says softly, smiling at you when you gaze up at him. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, just needed some quiet.” You take a deep breath. “It’s a bit too much, I guess.” 

Carter is your best friend; has been, for years, and you would trust him with literally anything, so you don’t hesitate, telling him the truth. You don’t think there’s anything you’ve not told him the truth on.

Except when he asked you why you never said yes to the boys asking you out on dates.

First, you’d tried to dodge, told him you never got asked, but that didn’t work because James had asked and you’d shot him down, and James was on the hockey team with Carter so obviously Carter had found out.

When he confronted you with that, you just shrugged. 

“Just not into it, Cart.” 

Because they’re not you. I would say yes if it was you. But those are words only meant for your own ears, words your heart utters into the silent void because there’s no way your brain would even let you say them out loud, not when it could ruin the best friendship you have. 

“You know,” Carter says now, “maybe we see a shooting star. Then you could still make your birthday wish.” 

You raise an eyebrow at him. “What are you on about?” 

He laughs, lightly. “I saw you when you blew out your candles, on the cake, earlier. You were super quick with it, there’s no way you made a wish.” 

It earns him an eye roll, from you. 

“Maybe I didn’t wanna make a wish. Maybe there’s nothing I wish for.” 

“Everyone has something they wish for,” says Carter wisely. He bumps your shoulder and then frowns, suddenly. “Fuck, Y/N, you’re freezing.” 

You put your hands on your own arms, wrap your arms around yourself, to feel that indeed your skin is cold and there’s goosebumps on your arms. Before you can comment on it, Carter has taken off his hoodie and is tugging it - not so carefully - over your head.

“Auw,” you whine, “you’re pulling my hair.” 

He immediately stops, then very slowly pulls the fabric down the rest of the way. It’s worse, that way, makes it feel more intimidate than it is. 

“Well,” you say finally, “there’s no shooting stars, so I guess no wish for me, this year.” 

Carter sighs, sounding defeated, then glances at his watch and his whole face lights up. 

“It’s 11:10! You can make a wish at 11:11!”

You can’t help but giggle at his excitement. “Cart, that doesn’t even have anything to do with my birthday.” 

“No,” says Carter, talking slow, as if he’s explaining something to a toddler. “They’re more special. Everyone gets a birthday wish, because everyone has a birthday. Not everyone catches the 11:11, though. That’s the universe telling you it’s your turn for a little bit of luck.” 

It’s dumb, and you don’t believe it, but he says it so adorably convinced, that when he motions at his watch that it’s time, you close your eyes and make a wish.

It’s fine if the wish will never come true. As long as it makes the tall, slender boy next to you happy, the way he does you. 

---

Carter’s first year as a Flyer is stressful.

You get to watch it from up close cause you followed him to Philly; there was never really an option not to. You know, after years of searching for something else, someone else that makes you feel the way he does, that it’s a lost cause.

It’s him, for you. It’s always been him. 

You’re driving to his apartment, the night of what you knew has been a hard game. They lost, again. You know Carter will - wrongfully - blame himself, again. You know you’re gonna do whatever it takes to pick up the pieces, again, and probably fail, again. 

Maybe Carter’s stupid goalie superstition has rubbed off on you, but when you drive through a tunnel, you hold your breath until the end of it.

Let him be okay.

His front door creaks as you open it; he gave you a key as soon as he moved in, and you’ve been using it ever since. You don’t even think you know what his doorbell sounds like.

“Carter?” you call out. You know he’s not asleep; he never sleeps well, after losses. It takes him ages, tossing and turning in his sheets until he just gives up and sits on the balcony, staring at the stars.

He says it calms him down.

You’re pretty sure you know where to find him.

“Cart?” you mutter, opening the balcony door carefully, and indeed, there’s a human figure slumped over the railing, head down, hands tucked into the sleeves of his hoodie. At your voice, he looks up, and you’re struck with how tired he looks. 

Dark circles surround his bright eyes, which seem to light up the dark night as much as the city lights below you.

You go stand next to him, close enough for your shoulders to touch; warmth is still radiating off him, his cheeks are flushed. 

“I don’t get what you’re looking at, here,” you tell him, giving him time to decide whether or not he wants to talk about the game. You know he doesn’t do well when you push him. “You can’t even see the stars. The city lights are way too bright.” You crinkle your nose in disgust. “The stars were so much more beautiful back home.” 

“Do you miss home?” Carter asks.

You shrug. “Sometimes. Some things. You?” 

“I miss my family.” Carter pauses. “Not home, so much. I thought I would, but, the one part I thought I’d miss the most...” Another pause, then a tentative smile. “Well, she followed me here.” 

Your heart flutters at that and you have to remind yourself that he’s just in a mushy mood, probably trying to hide his emotions about the game. 

But you still wanna let him know you appreciate it, and you feel the same, so you lean closer, letting your head drop to his shoulder. Right away, his head is resting on top of yours.

“Can you wish on city lights?” you ask, just to fill the quiet night, and he chuckles.

“Probably not, but I don’t think I’ll need the stars to wish on. I make wishes when I hold my breath in tunnels, when I throw pennies in wells, when I blow out candles...” 

“There’s no wells around here,” you interrupt, and you feel Carter’s shoulders shake with muted laughter. It’s so much better than the sad expression he wore when you got here, and you feel the brick that’s settled in the pit of your stomach since you saw the score, slightly dissipate. 

“I think it’s probably around 11,” says Carter, then. “If we catch it, we can make another wish.” 

You know what you would wish for; the same thing you’ve been wishing for for 8 years. You also know you might as well be wishing for the sky to turn purple, so you’re not really too worried about catching 11:11.

“What do you wish for, anyway?” you ask him. He turns slightly, so he’s facing you now, and incredulous look on his face.

“You really don’t know?” he says. “It’s the same thing, every time.” 

“How would I know?” you huff. “You’ve never told me.” 

“Guess.” 

You don’t see the fun in this game but you’d do anything to see him smile, anything to keep his mind off the game, so you humor him.

“Stanley Cup.” 

“No.” 

“Vezina?” 

“Nope.” 

“World peace.” Carter seems like that guy.

“No, but I would, if I thought it was possible.” 

“A puppy.” 

He laughs. “No, but I should.” 

“I don’t know, Cart,” you tell him, smiling now. You expect him to say something silly, but a serious expression crosses his face, and then his hands come down and grab hold of your hips. He takes a step closer and your breath hitches in your throat.

“What...” are you doing, you start, but he interrupts you.

“When I wish on 11:11, I’m wishing for you.” 

His lips touch yours before you’ve processed the words, but as soon as you realize what’s happening, you hook your arms behind his neck, push up on your tiptoes to kiss him deeper. 

You try to put everything you have into that kiss; try to tell him, wordlessly, that you wanna grow old together, wanna be his person, want him to stay with you even when you’re scared, that you think he’s beautiful and magical and everything you could ever wish for. 

That every time you wish on shooting stars and ticking clocks, you’re wishing for him too.

“I think we might’ve missed 11:11,” is the first thing you say when you finally pull apart, breathing a little heavily, Carter’s cheeks tinted a little pink.

He breathes out a chuckle, rests his forehead against yours.

“That’s okay,” he says. 

“I’ve got all I’d wish for right here.” 

[tonio-dawson]

The Perfect Trap

OC x Antonio Dawson

Crossover Blue Bloods x Chicago PD

Words: 4,401

A/N: This is my very first crossover, please be nice :) This story follows the life of Maggie Reagan, twin sister of Jamie Reagan which makes her the youngest of the Reagan family. For context, here is the Reagan family tree. This story took place in New York, I might be writing another one that takes place in Chicago so we can focus on the CPD Intelligence Unit. Hope you like it!

---

"I have to say I don't like this one bit," Frank Reagan finally spoke. “Dad, we’ve talked about this,” said Danny. 

“Yes and I gave it a go, but I just want to say again I don’t like this idea,” Frank gazed to his youngest.

“None of us like it any more than you do,” Maggie answered, all eyes were on her and her fiancee who sat next to her, clenching his jaw. He gave it a long pause, “We can still call it off,” his raspy voice sounded heavy and his remark raised many eyebrows, “Hey! Don’t do this to me brother,” Danny complained, pointing his fork to his soon-to-be brother in law. “Easy, Daniel,” said Henry at the end of the table, trying to calm his eldest grandson.

Maggie Reagan is the youngest of the Reagan family. She followed her family legacy, entering the police academy around the same time as her twin Jamie, but she moved to Chicago wanting a clean slate without the burden of her last name in New York. On the job for eight years, now she’s working as a junior detective in Narcotics. Maggie met Antonio Dawson on a joint operation with the Intelligence Unit two years ago and started dating not long after. Much to her surprise, Antonio quickly grew very close to her family including his hot-headed brother, Danny. Apparently being a hard willed yet by-the-book cop was the ticket to be loved by the entire Reagan family. A big reason why it was rather easy to get all of their blessings to put a ring on Maggie’s finger six month prior to this dinner.

So, the commotion at the Sunday dinner table isn’t about their wedding at all. Danny, who had been picking Antonio’s brain for a lot of his cases, finally caught a big one. Danny’s case this time has become an official police matter between CPD and NYPD, both wanting to keep feds out of it. Teo Rodriguez, who ran a drug ring five years ago in Chicago has resurfaced in New York. Back then, Teo managed to avoid any conviction thanks to the loyalty of his crew  in Chicago. None of them gave Teo up and no crime that he pulled had hard evidence against him. Though he remains free in Chicago, CPD made sure that his operation was crippled and that Teo cannot do business in Chicago again. Not long after a major operation to convict all of his crews, Teo skipped town and fell off the CPD radar. 

A couple of months prior, Danny caught execution-style homicides in Harlem with markings over the victims. It’s obvious that this is gang-related killings, but he never saw these markings before. He had been banging his heads as that was already a third homicide, the killer had definitely been playing with him but he was no close in identifying him. Not until he shared it with Antonio who filled him with useful information. With Antonio and CPD’s aid, Danny came close to locating Teo, but he ran with the same old problem: without hard evidence, they didn’t have enough to convict him. 

They’re back to square one. And so, Antonio and Danny came up with an idea - a risky one. Setting up a trap. Knowing Teo, everything is an eye for an eye. Five years ago, when Antonio arrested Teo’s second-in-command, Pedro, CPD held his 10-year-old son and threatened him to give the kid up to social service and never to see him again if Pedro didn’t give himself up. Pedro finally came to the precinct and had himself arrested. However not 24 hours later, Diego, Antonio’s son went missing. He was finally found unharmed, but they could never connect Diego's abduction to Teo.

The idea was to provoke Teo by revealing Antonio and have him arrest Teo’s sister who lives in New York. They hoped that if Teo took the bait and made the connection, his next move would be taking Maggie into hostage. Being Danny’s sister and Antonio’s girlfriend, Maggie is the perfect trap. They would then set up surveillance and wiretap on Teo, so they could finally catch him red-handed. This is of course an operation with a lot of ifs. And a huge risk for Maggie. Antonio had second-doubting his idea at least a hundred times but Danny convinced him to go with it. With Frank’s blessing, the operation was a go. It’s a risky idea, but a necessary one.

On the dining table, Antonio shook his head looking at Maggie, “Sorry. I know this is my idea and everything, but...,” “Hey, it’s our idea,” Danny corrected. “Yeah Danny, that’s why we all don’t like the idea,” said Jamie, which earned a chuckle from everyone. Danny scoffed, he really likes his future in-law, but doesn't like the detective popularity contest at the dining table. 

“It’s the only way out if we want to get this scumbag,” said Maggie. Frank let out a sigh, “Do what you got to do. But please, be safe,” Frank shot a look at Antonio and Danny. “In case you forget, we are the three finest detectives in the country, Dad,” Danny replied with a smile while Antonio kept clenching his jaw, wondering just how things can go. 

---

A few days later, they started the operation. “Teo Rodriguez!” Danny shouted, he rounded the street near Teo’s apartment, catching him just after he exited the building. “Oh if it isn’t my favorite Detective,” Teo replied with a smug, “What is it? If you have another conspiracy theory, I’m not interested. Already said I have nothing to do with your homicides,” he tried to walk off but Danny stopped him. “It’s not that, I thought you wanted to see something. Come with me,” Teo didn’t comply at first but he finally gave up when Danny revealed her sister’s name. 

Danny took Teo to central booking, across the hall, behind the bars - a sight was presented to Teo: Antonio was holding his sister, Ella, cuffed and ready to be processed. From afar, they watched the scene, “I believe that’s your sister? But who’s that next to her? Do you remember him?” Danny asked. “Ella! No, you can’t do this!” he screamed. Ella only turned her heavy head and gave Teo a disappointed look before disappearing to the next room. 

After processing Ella, Antonio approached Teo, “Teo Rodriguez, remember me?” Antonio asked.

“Not really. But I do remember Diego,” Teo replied with a smug. 

It pained Antonio but he kept his cool, “Well, perhaps Ella facing a 5-year charge will jog your memory. You thought after leaving Chicago, you can start all over again because no one knows you. But we know. It took NYPD a while but now that they’re working with me, we all know well that you like to keep business close to the family. I tracked down Ella long before you did. That mom of yours really does like sleeping around…” Antonio continued.

But Teo laughed hysterically instead, “Oh you like playing games now, Detective Dawson?! Let’s see who’s the better player.” 

“So you do remember him,” Danny said, “Reagan and Dawson..let me guess, extended family? If you have a cop family here in New York I’m gonna find out. Remember Detective, this ain’t Chicago.” Teo pointed his finger at Antonio and left.

“Remind me, how did you know about Ella again?” Danny asked when they got to the car.

“After the investigation, we realised that none of them snitch on Teo not because they’re scared, but because they think of him as family. We dug into his childhood and found out that he actually has a lot of step siblings. One way or another his crew has blood ties,” Antonio explained.

“So when he moved to New York, he only had few contacts. Since his mom has children everywhere, he always has family,” Danny continued. “Long story short. Let’s just hope he took our bait,” Antonio replied.

----

“Is this really necessary?” Maggie whined. “Come on Mags, you need to be seen in the city, reuniting with old friends, having fun.” said Jamie while handing over her dress. 

“It’s 4pm in the afternoon,” said Maggie. “And you are known to be an early drinker, since when you’re complaining about drinking?” Jamie asked. “Since knowing my fiancee and my brother is taking down a very dangerous criminal,” she answered while getting ready. 

“Let’s paint the town red and hope that Teo is indeed as smart as Antonio predicted,” Jamie smiled. He called up a couple of his most trusted cops, pretending to be Maggie’s old friends. Four of them were heading to a corner bar in East Village. 

Detective Baez, Danny’s partner, had been tracking down Teo’s movement with an unmarked car. She’s sitting outside of Teo’s apartment in her car while their team has been listening in to phone calls and text messages from Teo. Nothing suspicious of yet, but close to 7pm, Teo texted his accomplice to meet him somewhere in East Village.  Baez stayed put and ordered Danny to stand by on Maggie.

At around 7pm, Jamie, Maggie, and their friends had been spending time at the corner bar. They haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary. Until three suspicious looking men sat down next to their table, exchanging looks, but no sign of Teo yet. Down the road, Danny and Antonio parked two blocks away, with a TAC team parked further down. 

It’s been half an hour and no sign of Teo, nor that the group of men does anything. Is it a false alarm? Jamie and Maggie sense that something is wrong but they can’t figure it out yet.

“Something feels off. If those are Teo’s guys, why don’t they make a move? Should I go to the back alone to lure them?” Maggie asked. “No, Maggie. Too risky.” said Jamie. 

“Yeah but if you’re around Jamie, they won’t make the move. I’m good with Sandra and Alex here,” asked Maggie. Jamie looked hesitant but eventually yielded, “You keep her safe, okay?” Alex nodded and gave him a reassurance squeeze in the shoulder, “We got this, Reagan,” said Alex.

Jamie went out the bar and joined Danny and Antonio in their car. Another half an hour, still no sign of Teo and no chatter on his phone, Antonio also started to be uneasy. 

“I think you two should join Baez, I don’t think he’s coming here,” said Antonio to Danny and Jamie.

“Leaving you alone with our sister? No,” Danny quickly rejected.

“Come on. I’ve got the cavalry here with me,” Antonio pleaded. “I feel more safe if you have eyes on Teo is all.” 

Danny yielded, went out of the car and took Jamie’s car heading to Teo’s place, “You spotted him yet, Baez?” he called Baez. “No. No movement from his apartment since he’s back from the bodega an hour ago,” Danny and Jamie looked at each other and looked for the bodega. 

“What is he wearing?” Danny asked. “Grey hoodie, black jeans, and white shoes,” said Baez over the phone. “Shit,” Danny muttered. “What is it?” asked Baez. “I’m at the Bodega looking at the security footage. Looks like he paid someone to wear his clothes and went back to his apartment.”

“Well his phone is still at home, so is his car,” Baez reported. “He must know we’ve been sitting on him,” Danny shook his head.

Jamie filled Antonio with the new development, “Shit. We got played.” Antonio cursed himself, he can’t believe all their plan had been crushed. Teo is a man of his words, Antonio is absolutely certain that he’ll take revenge but where is he now? He wrecked his brain and recalled his last conversation with Teo, that’s when he realized his mistake, “Jamie!!” Antonio screamed on the phone Danny swore he could see waves coming out of Jamie’s phone.

“It’s not Maggie….it’s Erin. My extended family. Go find her, I’ll join you.” Antonio’s voice was shaking in panic, he’s about to shift the car gear when he heard a gunshot coming from the corner bar where Maggie was. “Damn it!” he ran out along with the TAC team to the bar.

Danny and Jamie could not hear anything more from Antonio, the line got disconnected after the gunshot, but they decided to trust the man and make a run for Erin. 

Danny was on edge while Jamie drove as fast as he could, “Danny, there’s a thing between us twins. I have a feeling that she’s okay.” said Jamie. “Okay if that you trying to calm me down, I’ll take it. I wish you can say the same for Erin,” Danny was beyond angry at himself. This operation was under his watch, and so far nothing according to his plan. 

Danny kept calling Erin but no answer. Baez pinged her phone and put her in a three-mile radius around her apartment. “Please Erin, please be home,” Danny mumbled. The ride was only 15 minutes but it felt like forever for the Reagan boys. Erin’s car was parked in front of her apartment building, but when they got in, she’s not home. 

Meanwhile, the situation at the bar wasn’t pretty either. The TAC team surrounded the bar, already securing civilians. Antonio could not believe what he’s seeing, it was like seeing a scene from a movie: gun standoff between the three men versus Alex and Sandra, with Maggie held on a chokehold, gun on her temple. Antonio quickly made his way in, which gained a strong protest from the perp that held Maggie, “Don’t move! Or I’ll kill her!" he yelled. Antonio took the risk coming in, but he’s fairly certain that Teo didn’t order his guys to kill Maggie.

Antonio rose his hands up, “If you don’t know already, you’re holding hostage a Chicago Police Detective. And I guess you didn’t expect the two friends here are also cops,” he pointed at Alex and Sandra.

“Now, I am from Chicago too so I wanna make sure that I bring her safely home. I know Teo sent you. And you’ve failed already because the task was to kidnap her, right? Why don’t we make this quick man-” Antonio kept talking to shake them off. “Shut up!! Or I’ll kill her!” the perp became more and more nervous. Maggie exchanged looks with Antonio, trying to understand his play. Antonio looked at her, Maggie looked calm, she trusted Antonio could get her out of the situation. 

“I know it’s not the deal. The order was not to kill anyone,” Antonio tried to win them over.

“You don’t know anything,” the one holding Maggie pulled his trigger, the two others looked utterly confused and panicked. As the prep adjusted his arm position, Maggie elbowed him hard on his stomach, pushed his arm up and duck down. His shots were fired but went to the ceiling. Antonio tackled him as Maggie crawled to the side. Antonio pulled his gun on him, “Don’t you even think about it,” and the perp dropped his gun. 

The two other men were taken aback wanting to shoot back, but Alex and Sandra shot their legs first and lunged at them. They were apprehended quickly and taken outside. 

Antonio asked to deal with the one holding Maggie earlier. He was cuffed now so Antonio threw him on the table pressing him hard with his body. Maggie watched in disbelief from the side with the other officers. She had seen Antonio in action a few times before, but never quite like this. 

“Where is Teo?!” Antoino screamed pinning him to the table, “I don’t know man-” the perp laughed. 

“You want to laugh now?” Antonio pulled his gun and placed it on the back of the perp’s knee, “Well, you should know, in Chicago, we play things differently. There’s no need to be politically correct. Now where does he say he wants to stake out Erin?” 

Maggie just put two and two together now, Teo has levelled up his revenge game, he went after Danny’s two sisters. Not caring about all the eyes, Antonio put his hand around his neck now and pressed his gun more, “I’m not playing here-” the perp was shaking and finally gave in, “I don’t know the name of the place, Blue something… a diner near her apartment. Now let me go!!” he screamed and coughed. Antonio threw him to the ground and motioned the other officers to take him. He knew that he would get in trouble later coercing a perp like that, but he couldn't care less.

He quickly called Danny, giving him Teo’s location and possibly Erin’s. After that, he turned to Maggie, who was still processing the situation, “Babe, you okay?” he reached out to hold her hands, she nodded but suddenly gave Antonio a tight hug. “Hey, you’re okay, I’m here,” Antonio tried to calm her down. She was on the verge of tears when Antonio pulled her away, he cupped her face with his hands, “I love you Maggie and will always protect you.” he paused and continued, “I hate to do this, but unless you can pull yourself to be Detective Reagan now, I suggest you get check out on an ambo because I still have to save your sister..” he said it calmly but not leaving the sense of urgency. Maggie bit her lip, realizing that her day was far from over and that her fiancee is still a cop on a job. So she took her deepest breath, “Let’s go, Detective Dawson,” she gave his hand one last tight squeeze before quickly making her way inside his car. Antonio nodded, still worried but he knows Maggie can do this. She was a cop before she was his girlfriend afterall.

Danny and Jamie ran across the street together with Baez who had joined them. They didn’t notify anyone yet as they don’t want to spook out Teo and put Erin in more danger. The Blue Whale diner was a bit more crowded than usual. Danny came in and asked Erin to the front counter. They confirmed she’s in the back, when he showed Teo’s picture the barista nodded and a few seconds later they heard a commotion from the back. People started screaming and ran out. Teo has found Erin.

“Jamie! Baez! Secure everyone!” Danny yelled. Turned out that Teo didn’t expect that Erin would recognize him right away - she immediately reached for her phone to call 911 when she saw him. And when he realized this, he quickly drew his weapon out, taking Erin before she could press dial.

Danny went to the back of the restaurant while Jamie and Baez were still out front making sure everyone’s out. Seeing Danny, Teo held Erin tighter and put his gun on her side.

“You Reagans. Think you’re so smart,” Teo smirked.

Danny drew his weapon to Teo, “It’s over Teo. You didn’t get Maggie either,” said Danny. “Oh yeah? So, I have more reason to kill this one then,” he grinned. Danny’s stomach was twisted. He could make the shot but Teo’s too close to Erin.

The standoff felt like forever. Danny tried to talk their way out of the situation. What took Baez and Jamie so long? He didn’t have back up. So he could only stall and talk nonsense to Teo about making a deal to get him out of jail. 

Just when Danny was about to run out of options, Antonio came through the back door with Maggie, both weapons drawn to Teo, “It’s over Teo, you’re surrounded. You put the gun down real slow, or we take you out,” Antonio said calmly. Teo looked at Antonio, "You think you finally won, Detective Dawson?" His grip on Erin became tighter "Oh if I had known earlier that the famous Reagan family had ties to you…" He shifted his aim, his weapon pointed at Maggie this time. 

"Teo, if you want to walk out alive…your only way out is me. My brother and Detective Dawson here won't think twice about shooting you," said Maggie. “Detective Dawson? You think I did not know you’re his girlfriend?!” Teo shouted. 

She looked straight to Teo but her gaze was to Danny's. She gave Danny a slight nod, “I know you know now. Teo, now please…” Maggie begged, throwing her arms up like she was about to surrender, “Please, don’t hurt…” before she could finish her sentence, Danny fired a bullet to Teo's shoulder that was holding the gun. 

Teo's gun went off but his aim was horrible, Maggie dodged his bullet and in a split second, she ducked and pulled Erin who was already on the ground towards her. Teo now on the ground, with Danny on top of him cuffing him. He grunted, Antonio kept his gun pointed at Teo and put it on Teo’s temple. "Tony, don’t. He's not worth it." Danny looked at him. Antonio's eyes were filled with anger, "I'm gonna make sure you're going to the death chair, and you’ll wait for that agonizing day in misery," Antonio hissed when getting him up. Teo still didn't look defeated, Danny shoved him and let Baez take him to the station.

Maggie held onto Erin as tight as she could. Today was horrifying. "Erin...are you okay?" Erin hugged his sister tighter, "I am now, thanks to you," to that, Maggie suddenly sobbed at Erin's shoulder. Looked like she had it worse than Erin. Erin looked confused, she never saw Maggie cry this way. Not even after the incident that made her move to Chicago 9 years ago. She held her, looking to Danny and Antonio for explanation. They may not be the closest siblings but Erin loves her siblings equally don't matter what. Antonio looked at Erin with an apologetic look, feeling responsible that he didn’t force Maggie to sit out after the bar shoot out. 

Antonio approached her, "Hey Maggie, your arm is bleeding. Let's get you check out, the ambo's here," a bullet must've grazed Maggie’s arm during the first shootout. Maggie didn’t move an inch, still hugging her sister tight. He rubbed her back, closing in to her ear, "Come on, let Erin go. She's okay and you can go see her after. Okay? Danny will take care of her,” Maggie pulled away and looked her sister in the eye, "Erin I'm sorry…" still sniffing. "Hey, none of this is your fault, Maggie. And look, your sleeve is dripping with blood, go with Antonio," Erin reassured. Antonio pulled Maggie close to his side and walked out holding her. 

After Maggie left it’s Erin now who could not take it anymore, "Oh Danny, that was too close to comfort," she buried her head against Danny’s chest. He put his arm around her, "I’m so sorry sis. It's over now, it's a good thing that we rehearsed that move over and over again," said Danny comforting her, "One hell of a day," he muttered.

--

Outside, Maggie was still shaking while getting patched up. Antonio held her hand the entire time, "I'm so sorry," was all Antonio could say to her. He knew his fiancee was hurting more in her heart than physically. But he did not know what to say, his head was still full with anger, heart pumping, adrenaline still hadn't washed out. He saw Jamie and motioned him to come over to the ambulance. 

“Hey Mags, you okay?” Jamie asked. “Um.. yeah no,” Maggie started sobbing. Antonio pulled her into a hug, his brows curled and his face spoke a thousand words to Jamie. “It’s over, okay? It’s just adrenaline wearing off,” he realized that Maggie was still shaking. “You did good, babe. You did good.” he whispered to her ears. 

Maggie pulled away, seemingly calmed down, she looked at Jamie, “I uh… I put Erin in danger, I got the whole cavalry looking after me and not one on Erin’s side…” tears streaming again. Antonio sighed, looking at Jamie for help, this is going to take long to recover from.

“We can’t go to that rabbit hole Mags, you know that. If you keep doing this then Danny would probably beat himself up, he brought everyone into this,” Jamie tried to reason. 

“Or me- I should’ve forced you to stay after the bar,” Antonio’s words are shaky now, he’s also on the verge of tears, seeing Maggie like this, not his best forte. 

Thankfully one of the officers came to break the moment before Antonio shed any tears, “Detective Dawson? The commissioner is on the line,” Antonio realized he had left his phone in the car and hadn't given an update to Frank yet. He nodded at the officer and turned to Maggie, “I’ve got a lot of explaining to do to the NYPD. You sit tight here with Jamie, okay?” Maggie nodded as he left. 

“How can you all be so strong?” she asked Jamie. “We’re not Mags. We just pretended to be, so the others can be,” Jamie took his twin sister’s hand. “If you can’t do it for us, do it for Antonio. He’s the one that got it the hardest. Danny is a close second though and that’s just because he’s a Reagan. But marrying a PC daughter and getting in the middle of this mess? Fiancee of the year that he is,” Jamie chuckled, tried to lighten up the mood. 

Now that Maggie can put things into perspective she put on a brave face, “I’ll start pretending now,” she smiled at him. “Yeah, you can be all sappy and sad when we’re alone at my place?” he offered. “With a bucket of ice cream and a superhero movie?” Maggie asked. “Yeah, can you give Antonio something to do tonight? Eddie’s got the night shift so we can have the night for the two of us.” he said.

“Oh, I won’t have him tonight. After today, I bet Danny would be drinking his night away with him…”

“So, it’s officially our night then,” Jamie hugged his twin sister.

[wormstacheangel]

December 11, 2021

Hello. Sorry I missed day 10 but I haven’t been sleeping and yesterday was the first day I had more than four hours of sleep! But enjoy day 11! Sorry, I keep forgetting to add the Christmassy stuff but after today it’s full on Christmas all the time lol Enjoy! Catch up on my advent calendar with my masterpost link here 

Summary: If you like Gabriel then you’re in luck he stops by for a visit and Cas is sick from the snowball fight from day 9. 

Their bedroom was warm from the heater and the scent of vaporub filled the air. Steppenwolf was playing softly from their record player, just enough to be comforting background noise. The curtains were pushed open so Cas could enjoy the view of the cloudy sky while he laid on his stomach.

His eyes shut as he felt Dean’s rough palms massage down his bare back. He melted into the familiar touch as he let Dean fuss over him again. 

“Is this okay?” He heard from behind him and Cas only hummed a noise in approval. “Kept rolling you to your side last night cause your damn snoring got so loud that Miracle started barking at our door.”

Cas raised his eyebrows at that because he doesn’t even remember that. The cold medicine he has been taking really knocks him out. He can barely keep his eyes open minutes after taking it. 

Even right now while he had Dean’s weight on him, ‘Cause how else will I message you if I’m not straddling you, Cas.’, He could easily just pass out. Feeling Dean’s lips right between his shoulder blades made him feel so alive and warm. He was so comfortable that maybe he will just go back to sleep for a little-

“What’s the emergency?!” They heard a panic voice before a chuckle then a whistle. “Wow, what are you two doing?” 

They heard the unexpected loud voice that made Dean fall off the bed but quickly scramble to cover himself in a blanket. Cas sat up and even in his dazed phase he threw the angel blade that pierced through Gabriel’s chest. 

“Ow.” Gabriel said as he pulled the blade out while Cas relaxed back into the bed. “Well what a nice welcome.”

“Gabriel?” Dean shuffles to his feet as he wraps the blanket around his shoulders. “Get the fuck out of our room!”

Cas groaned as he hid his face back on his pillow but couldn’t really relax without feeling the blade right under it so he held his hand out. Dean took it hesitantly but Cas slapped it away as he mumbled, “Give me my blade back.”

“Oh.” Dean said sadly but Cas turned to look at him. Puckering his lips to ask for a kiss only to get Dean shoving his face in the pillow. “Go to sleep, asshole.”

Gabriel walked over to them and sat by Cas’s feet. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I’m sick.”

Gabriel laughed, slapping Cas’s back a little too hard that Cas jumped up in pain. “Oops. Forgot you’re a big softie now.”

“I’m sure that would have hurt even if I had my grace.” Cas said as Dean pushes Gabriel away, really he kicks him a few times and motions with his head to move. “Why are you here, Gabriel?”

Dean, still covering himself in his blanket, took Gabriel’s spot while the archangel looked around the room in curiosity. 

“What? Can’t I just come down here to visit my baby bro and favorite nephew?” Gabriel reached over to touch the record player but Dean quickly threatened to stab him if he touched it so Gabe dropped his hand with a grin. “Well. If i’m not needed I’m just gonna say a quick hello to tiny Cas before I head back upstairs.”

Cas sat up to narrow his eyes at his brother. “You said there was an emergency.”

“Did I?”

“Yes. When you flew in here.” Cas rolled his eyes while Dean quickly draped his blanket over Cas’s shoulders. 

“Dude, just tell us why you’re here so we can move on.” Dean says as he stands up, wearing nothing but his scooby snack underwear and an old t-shirt, to walk to his drawer for some sweatpants. Mumbling something about angel warding the bedroom. 

Gabriel clicked his tongue as he started walking out the bedroom door. “I don’t want to get the kid in trouble-”

“Jack called on you?” Cas asked, his tone switching from annoyance to concern as he stood up to follow after Gabriel. “Why? Is he okay? Is he not in his room?”

Gabriel opened the door and there stood a sheepish Jack with Miracle sitting besides him, hanging her head as she whined. 

“Kid, wanna explain yourself?” Gabriel motioned for him to come in just as Cas had a small coughing fit. 

“That!” Jack motioned at Cas as he looked back at Gabriel. “He’s been sick for so long!”

“It’s been almost two days.” Dean corrects him as he walks to stand by Gabriel, arms crossed in concern. “It’s normal, Jack.”

“But you said it sounded like he was miserable and I just-” Jack sighed letting his shoulders hunch forward. “I didn’t want him to be sad when he’s been so happy lately. I mean...what’s the point of having our family if we can’t ask them for help?”

“Kids got a point.” Gabriel nudges Dean who looks down at his underwear. “Wow twinsies I have the same pair. Looks better on me though.”

Dean rolled his eyes at him before giving Jack his attention. “Jack, humans get sick. That’s just a part of life.”

“Humans get sick and die. I’m not ready to lose…” Cas had another coughing fit as he sat back down on the bed, reaching to drink the water on the nightstand. Jack’s eyes wandered to Cas as he quietly said, “I don’t want to lose Dad again.”

“Jack,” Cas’s rough voice made them all look up at him. Cas motioned for Jack to walk over to him. He didn’t start talking until Jack was standing in front of him. “I’m not dying. Not anytime soon at least.”

Gabriel shrugged at that and Dean punched his arm, only really hurting himself but it was the sentiment that counts.

“My fever is down,” Cas smiled reassuringly at him. “Thank you for bringing me my medicine and tea these last few days. I’m feeling so much better now.”

“You do?”

Cas nodded at him as he reached to grab Jack’s arm. “I am. So don’t worry so much. I’ll be better by tomorrow so we can go see those Christmas lights you wanted.”

“Can’t Uncle Gabe just-” Jack motioned towards Gabriel again but Cas was already shaking his head. “I don’t get why you can’t accept his help.”

“I want to experience being human and being sick is part of it.”

“But you hate it. I hated it when I was sick.”

“It’s the worst but it’s part of the journey.” Cas winked at him and then shoved Jack towards Gabriel. “Now go apologize to your Uncle for worrying him and invite him to Christmas.”

Gabriel promised to stop by for their Christmas. He then took Jack to buy him some late dinner while Dean stayed behind to climb back on their bed. Pulling Cas close to his chest and squeezing him. 

“Maybe we should let Gabe heal you.” Dean suggested as Cas coughed into his hand before groaning out in pain.

“Fuck, yes. I already prayed to him to come back and heal me after Jack goes to bed.” Cas looked up at his boyfriend. “I can’t handle this another day, Dean. I can’t even smell you and you’re right here! It’s torture.”

“Not smelling me?” Dean grinned down at him with raised eyebrows.

“Have you smelled yourself? It’s intoxicating.”

Tag List: (ask to be added or removed)

@galaxycastiel @superduckbatrebel  @slipper007  @wikiangela  @s-r-clowns

@ar-bi-trary  @winchestcas @imlivingliferightnow  @thefaeriemagic3  @bi-bi-marie @nguyenxtrang  @dancerdovegirl  @chocolatecakecas @trasherasswood  @celestialcastiel @castiel-is-a-cat @theghostofchristmasfuture 

[backtothestart02]

The Football Star and the New Girl - 1/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: I suck at titles lately...oh well. Enjoy this first chap! The story itself is based loosely on a dream I had. :)

...

Synopsis:  HS!AU - They were like ships passing in the night. Would they ever meet on the same page?

...

Chapter 1 -

Francine West walked down the hall and peeked into the open doorway of her daughter’s bedroom. She found her sitting on her bed, her things packed in multiple suitcases at her feet, but she herself – Iris West, 14 ¾ years old – did not look very excited to be leaving her home without her family. She was looking at a photo album. Tears were staining her cheeks.

Francine rested her head against the door frame as she watched her, her heart aching to heal the wounds she knew would only grow more with time.

“It’s not too late to change your mind, you know.”

Iris’ head whipped toward the sound, and she hastily shut the photo album and tossed it onto her bed, wiping her cheeks quickly after.

“Mom!”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t interrupting, was I?”

She walked into the room, and Iris scooted over a little so she could sit next to her on the bed.

“No, not at all. I’m glad you’re here.”

They shared a sweet look, then Iris leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder. Francine held out her hand, and Iris intertwined her fingers in her mother’s grip.

“I still want to go,” she assured her.

“Yeah?”

She nodded against her shoulder.

“I need stability, mom. I can’t be moving around going from school to school every six months. I’m proud of dad, of course, and I love being with you all. I’ll miss you a lot, but…I want friends and the same school and a life.”

“A boyfriend?” Francine nudged her gently.

Iris rolled her eyes and smiled.

“Maybe…eventually. I’m only 14, Mom.”

Francine nudged her again.

“14 ¾.”

Iris laughed.

“Yeah, yeah, okay. A boyfriend would be nice, once I get to know the guy for more than a couple months. But first, friends.”

“Friends are important too.”

Iris nestled into her mother’s embrace and sat in silence for a while.

“What about Wally? Is he going to be going to new schools every-”

“I’ve decided to attempt homeschooling.”

Iris lifted her head.

“You have?”

She nodded.

“He’s only 10, so the curriculum is simpler, and he’s pretty introverted, even around us, so Ruffly can suffice for his friend. At least for now.”

Francine pursed her lips. She did want real, live human friends for her son, as well as for her daughter. But for now their golden retriever seemed to be what got the most laughs out of young Wally West. She would hope that lasted at least through another school year.

“I’d take him with me if I could,” Iris said.

“You’d take both my children from me?” Francine asked, only half joking. “What am I supposed to do all day long without your brother to drive me crazy?”

Iris looked into her mother’s eyes and saw that they were watering.

“Oh, Mom, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s okay, honey.”

She sighed and pressed a kiss to her daughter’s temple.

“I know it hasn’t been easy for you, losing your friends so often because we have to move. It’s the life of a military family, I’m afraid. I signed up for it when I agreed to marry the man, but you, my baby, were just born into it.”

She pulled back to look into her eyes.

“I want you to know though that if at any time the school isn’t working out for you, we’ll come get you in a heartbeat.”

Iris winced. She knew it wasn’t that simple. They were moving overseas to a new post. Iris would be staying here in the U.S. Even if the school was a bit of a move for her too. It wasn’t anything she wasn’t used to.

Still, she obliged her.

“Yeah, okay, mom.”

She smiled, but Francine knew better.

Footsteps sounded down the hallway, and interrupting their little moment came Joe West with little Wally West on his back. Joe was dressed in all camouflage wear, and Wally was giggling from bouncing up and down on his “horsie”. Ruffly was close at Joe’s heels.

“What is this here?” Joe asked, witnessing the tear streaks on his two ladies’ faces.

“Dad!” Iris sprung up.

She ran to him, and he slowly released Wally off his back, who promptly complained when his shoeless feet hit the floor.

Joe hugged his daughter tight, lifting her off her feet briefly and kissing the side of her face.

“Oh, baby girl, are you sure you want to go?”

Iris laughed when she was back on her feet again. She wiped away fresh tears.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’m just gonna miss you guys, but I need this. For me. Okay?”

He sighed and nodded, then looked across the room at his wife.

“She’s so grown-up.”

“I know.” Francine sniffled.

“Why is everyone crying in here?” Wally asked. “Aren’t we gonna see her for Christmas?”

Everyone laughed.

“Aren’t you gonna miss me at all, you little punk?” Iris asked, ruffling his curly hair.

“Eh, maybe a little.” He shrugged, uncaringly.

Iris rolled her eyes.

“Well, it’s time to get going then, yeah?” She looked at her parents who nodded.

“Yeah,” Joe said. “That seven-hour drive is no joke.”

“Seven hours! That’s a lifetime!” Wally whined.

Ruffly barked.

“Just wait till your plane ride,” Iris egged him on. “That might be even longer.”

Wally groaned. “I hate traveling!”

“Better make sure you have something to keep you occupied with then, Walls,” Joe said, and with that Wally zipped out of Iris’ room to make sure his many bags included plenty of toys to play with on his very long journey.

“I’ll go help him,” Francine said. “We’ll meet you at the door with his things.”

“Sounds good.”

Joe smiled, but it was pained. Once Francine had left, all the toughness had melted away again, as it often did with his baby girl.

“Boy, am I gonna miss you,” he said.

“I’m gonna miss you too, Dad.” Another tear streamed down her cheek, and he was quick to wipe it away. “You look so handsome in your uniform, Dad.”

He chuckled.

“Alright, enough sadness for now. We can do this again in seven hours.”

She laughed. “Okay.”

“You wanna help me get all a million and one suitcases out to the car?”

She took a step back and looked around her room.

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“You can apologize by helping me.”

“Deal.”

She smiled, and slowly they made their way to the front door and then the driveway with all seven of her suitcases. It took a few trips, but then she knew she would need every bit of her belongings for the long school years that lay ahead.

Her family would visit as often as they could, of course, but it would be difficult with them living overseas. She probably wouldn’t see them again until her dad was forced to move again like they were doing now.

But she’d thought long and hard   this. She longed for friendships that lasted, for a life beyond what was available to a military family. She needed to connect and to be free for a while, even at the sacrifice of not seeing her family every day, especially her mom and baby brother. This new school – Huntington Farm and Boarding School – would be just the ticket.

Out in the middle of nowhere somewhere down south, the school was on a huge stretch of lush land that also served as a farm – no animals, just crops, which was a shame, Iris thought. She’d miss having even just her dog around too.

But the place was renowned for its academics and social scene there in the middle of the wilderness. A boarding school for those who needed it, traveling families mostly; and if the colorful flyer they’d sent in the mail was any indication, Iris would absolutely love it.

“Everybody ready?” Joe asked, when everyone had piled into the car sometime later.

“Ready!” the family cheered.

Joe chuckled and started the car.

“Huntington Farm and Boarding School, here we come. Watch out for your most dazzling student yet.”

He met Iris’ eyes in the rearview mirror, and they sparkled.

“You know it!” Iris said.

Joe grinned and backed out of the driveway.

They were all on their way to bigger adventures now.

…

One year later…

Iris sat on top of the fence on the edge of the football field, waiting for who she hoped she hadn’t misinterpreted wrong. After nearly a year of first claiming he didn’t like her and then months of mixed signals, Iris was convinced he actually did like her, as much as she liked him.

Sitting on the fence post waiting for the guy to come kiss her seemed like an odd tradition, but it was built into the social aspect of the school, and she figured it was the only guaranteed way she’d know if he was really crushing or not.

She’d dressed as cute as she could for a game, and soon she’d know if it would pay off or not.

Biting her bottom lip, she gasped quietly when she saw him coming around the corner heading right towards where she had herself perched.

Barry Allen was the star football player – star of every sport he could get himself into really – and they’d been making genuine eyes at each other for weeks. Now, as he approached her, it felt as if their whole future was hanging in the balance.

He stopped about 20 feet away. Bracing himself maybe for the decision he’d have to make? Presumably have gained the courage, he continued his walk, headed straight for her and stopped directly in front of her.

Iris waited, her heart hammering a mile a minute in her chest. He was tall enough to reach her – so tall, but she bent her head anyway, and sure enough their lips met in a soft, tender kiss.

She opened her eyes as he took a step back, but the smile on his face was undeniable. So was hers.

Just as he was about to say something truly romantic – she’d decided – one of his teammates burst behind them.

“Did you just kiss Iris West?”

Barry spun around, panic on his features.

“I-”

Another teammate appeared.

“Wait, what?”

“Barry just kissed Iris!”

“But I thought he hated her. He swore he did.”

Iris tensed on the top of the fence, waiting for Barry to smooth the whole thing over. It couldn’t be that big of a deal that he’d pretended to hate her all while flirting with her on the downlow for nearly a year…could it? It was annoying to her for sure, but his teammates couldn’t be that annoyed, could they?

Barry never smoothed it over.

His teammates left, looking disgusted, and Barry looked back at Iris for one more moment, not knowing what to do. Then he left, calling after them.

“Wait, guys, it’s not what it looks like!”

And Iris sat alone on top of the fence, the magical memory of her first kiss completely shattered.

How would they come back from this?

[angrymongol01-archived]

A/N: Am reposting two of my shelved discontinued fem!Hinata fics from my old blog here (for exposure ig? Also I didn't delete them completely there, they're just posted privately lol); for those who've read the original post before and wondering why this blog repost another blog's work, supplies~!! OP here, filling this blog with some Haikyuu content from last October. Enjoy ^^;; ALSO DO NOT SEND HATE ORZ smh

My Masterlist

Prologue | 01 | Omake 01

01 - The Restroom is Indeed a Scary Place

wc: 2.5k words

warning: slightly suggestive (thigh touching), some kidnapping ig?, but nothing else aside from the other warnings above; and a crying Hinata also btw

also inspired by this cute doujinshi

*NOTE: since purple/violet is unavailable via PC (using desktop beta lol), I'll use yellow for Ushijima instead.

Hinata Shouyou just came out of the girls’ restroom, singing her bathroom song (but discreetly lol) and turned left, when she bumped into something hard, face first.

“Ah, s-sumimase—“

“Are you okay?” a low and deep manly voice spoke to her, while large hands still gripped her shoulders after saving Karasuno’s Number 10 from tumbling backwards.

Brown eyes looked up to meet olive ones, as she faced Ushijima Wakatoshi, Shiratorizawa Academy’s Captain and Ace.

Ushiwaka. Japan.

“U-ushijima…-san,” Hinata gasped.

“Hinata Shouyou,” he replied, his face stoic as ever while staring at her face.

Which made the female decoy flustered.

Realizing the narrow space between them.

Also hands pulled off from touching gripping Ushiwaka’s chest shirt for support earlier.

Prompting him to release his grip on the chibi’s shoulders.

“I-i-i’m sorry!” Hinata stammered, apologizing at Ushijima and bowing multiple times. “I… I didn’t mean to—“

Staring at the girl, he was amused at how panicky one half of Karasuno’s freak quick combo is right now.

Which is cute.

And he fought the urge to pinch out her round cheeks right this moment.

The olive-haired guy slightly nodded in her direction.

“I’m also sorry—” he said laconically, which made Hinata surprised at his statement, “—for bumping into you a while ago.”

The female crow just shook her head and beamed. “It’s okay! I’m alright, Ushijima-san. You shouldn’t apolog—kya!”

Hinata’s sentence was cut off when both hands cupped her pink-tinged cheeks.

Ushijima’s hands, though large and calloused due to spiking balls since childhood, were warm and soft to the touch.

“A-a-ano—! W-wha… Ushijima-san…?!”

The chibi stuttered, trying to look at him but failed to do so.

Her heart thumping as loud as Saeko-neesan’s wadaiko beats.

Lol.

She squirmed, face now a full-blown blush, under the Shiratorizawa captain’s touch.

He raised his eyebrows, his voice a bit amazed.

“Hmm… so it’s true! Touching your cheeks can calm the nerves. Relaxing and therapeutic.”

WHAT IS SHE—SOME GENERIC FOOD SUPPLEMENT OR SOMETHING—

Hinata tilted her head on the side, looking a bit lost to what Ushiwaka said. “Pardon?”

Before he answered his reply, another male voice joined in from the back of the big guy. “Wakatoshi-kun, Coach and the others are waiting for you inside the gym… what are you doing—eh?”

Shiratorizawa’s Player No.5, the Guess Monster itself. Tendou Satori.

The redhead middle blocker peeked at his teammate’s shoulder to see both of his hands were connected—no, caressing—both of Hinata’s flushing cheeks.

“Aha! Karasuno’s little Number 10~!!”, he exclaimed, pointing his long index finger at the orange-head middle blocker.

RIP Ushiwaka’s eardrum.

She frowned, glaring at the tall redhead.

“HOW DARE YOU CALL ME ‘LITTLE’!?” she pouted.

Wanted to karate chop Tendou in the face for making fun of her height.

Meanwhile, the female decoy’s talking sent faint vibrations onto Ushijima’s palms still latching on both her cheeks.

He hummed in delight.

He was entertained by the different facial expressions Karasuno’s Hinata Shouyou made today.

And his heart swooned.

Noticing his friend’s faint blush, Tendou commented, “Ah! You must be trying out the theory about touching Chibi-chan No.10’s fluffy cheeks?”

“Hmm,” he nodded in reply.

Hinata stared both at the Shiratorizawa players, face a bit red. “What ‘theory’ is it that involves t-touching my cheeks…?”

The redhead draped one arm around Ushijima while his other arm left hanging upward, index finger pointed above.

Like an “Aha!” pose.

He explained, “There’s this rumor circulating around here earlier that we kind of heard about after coming out of our bus upon arrival. They said that (either) ruffling your hair, touching your cheeks and/or your hands can calm down uneasy nerves and relaxes the body.”

“Eh!? R-really? Who said th—ugyaa!”

The left-handed volleyball cannon started to squish both the female baby crow’s cheeks in a gentle manner.

Her hands tried to pry his hands away from her cheeks but to no avail—he’s strong he won’t budge.

Ushiwaka’s olive eyes locked in with Hinata’s brown ones.

“It is very relaxing.” “U-u-ushijima-san… s-stop… my c-cheeks…—“

…really, the restroom—whether it is the girls’ or the boys’—is indeed a scary place.

——— ☀️ ———

Meanwhile, inside another nearby gym, the rest of the crows were having their morning warm ups.

The team’s vice-captain, Sugawara Koushi, noticed their female member’s absence.

“Say, has anybody known where Hinata-chan went to?”

“She went to the girls’ restroom to freshen up,” said their third-year club manager, Shimizu Kiyoko, pushing forward a volleyball cart full of balls on the other side of the net.

Beside her, holding a bunch of clean towels and sports bibs, her fellow manager Yachi Hitoka added on with a somewhat worried look etched in her face.

“But, Shimizu-senpai, that was ten minutes ago! I wonder why Hina-chan hasn’t come back yet…? And our first practice match for today will start soon.”

“I’ll go look for that boke, Sugawara-san,” his fellow setter, first-year Kageyama Tobio, offered to help.

The silver-haired guy smiled softly at Kageyama and patted his back.

“Thank you! Please find and bring our dear Hinata-chan back to safety—and don’t start another ‘lovers’ quarrel’ with her, got it, Kageyama?”

Kags suddenly choked at his senpai’s request, his face a whole mess of red.

“S-SUGAWARA-SAN, I—WE’RE NOT…!” he stammered while glaring at the third-year.

“Oho~ a ‘lovers’ quarrel’ between the King and his idiotic subject? Really though…”

“S-shut up, four-eyes!” Kageyama then sneered at the smirking tall middle blocker, fellow first-year Tsukishima Kei. Beside him, his classmate Yamaguchi Tadashi, snickered.

“Hai, hai~! That’s enough,” Suga singsonged while pushing the fuming and embarrassed raven-haired kid out of the gym. “Come on, you still need to fetch Hinata…”

A jolt ran down the third-year setter’s bones, his ahoge twitched like an antenna.

SugamamaRadar™️

Fear shown on Sugawara’s face.

Oh no, my poor baby crow…—

He jogged towards Kageyama. “Wait up! I’ll come with you—“

——— ☀️ ———

“…s-stop squishing my face, d-dammit…!”

Hinata’s cheeks—now a bit sore from constant pressing—were still being held ‘hostage’ by Ushijima’s large hands.

Behind his shoulder, the Guess Monster amused himself with what was in front of him.

“Ah, I wanna take a picture of her right now~!” Tendou decided, fishing out his phone from the pocket of his jersey shorts.

“N-no, no… Tendou-sa…! No—Please…! D-don’t… my cheeks are h-hurting—USHIJIMA-SENPAI STOP!!!” the female decoy yelped, tears starting to leak out of her brown eyes.

Senpai? Chibi-chan calls Wakatoshi-kun ‘senpai’ now?? WHAT!?!!! the redhead thought, flabbergasted. Unfair… so unfair~

The olive-head stopped what he was doing after he felt wetness seeping through his fingers, but hands remained stuck to Hinata’s face.

Hinata Shouyou, with her sore and pinkish cheeks, teary-eyed and sniffling.

Tendou then whispered to his team captain. “Oh my, this is bad, Wakatoshi-kun~ You’ve made the cute girl cry…”

Ushijima kept his gaze at her, his olive eyes laced with concern. “Did I?” he asked monotonously, his hands now placed on his sides.

The ‘cute girl’ in question started to wipe away her tears with the back of her hand while rubbing her abused right cheek with the other.

“I did tell you to stop squishing my cheeks, Ushijima-san!” Hinata scowled at the two men. “But you won’t listen!”

The Shiratorizawa ace felt a pang of guilt and sadness at the same time.

But Ushijima Wakatoshi made up a plan to keep her sunny disposition from fading.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, body slightly bent towards Hinata so she’s at eye level with him. “I really am.”

His usual expressionless facial structures softened and… is he smiling? At her?

Her face flushed again at the sudden closeness between them, heart beat picking up speed.

Not to mention the warmth of his left hand the chibi felt at the crown of her head.

Ushijima began to wipe away streaks of tears on her eyes and cheeks with his right.

“Stop crying now, or your cute face will become like Yoda,” Tendou jokingly said to Hinata, playful red eyes looking at her.

“S-shut it, Tendou-san,” Karasuno’s Number 10 whined, lips pouting, her face scowling with embarrassment.

Ah, be it a crying face or a pissed one, she really looks cute either way, both guys thought the same, with faint blushes adorning their cheeks.

“What~? Tendou-‘san’?! You called Wakatoshi-kun ‘Ushijima-senpai!’”—the Guess Monster then imitated Hinata’s voice from earlier.

Which further embarrassed the scowling girl more.

“—then me a merely ‘Tendou-SAN’?! Hey, we’re of the same year level—“

“Tendou—“

The said redhead fake-sneered at the orange-haired decoy, pointing shakily. *shrugs*

“—I’m your upperclassman also, Chibi-chan! Show some respect by calling me ‘senpai’!!” fumed Tendou.

Hinata flinched a bit at their rival school’s middle blocker’s litany. And looked down.

Then silence.

Ushijima turned to face his friend, his brows slightly knitted.

“That is absurd coming from you, Tendou,” he scolded him. “I think you made her angry now. What if she cries again?” Not to mention her teammates—

“Maa, maa~ don’t you worry, my dear Wakatoshi-kun! She won’t~ I’m sure of that!”

Did she buy the charade? the redhead thought as he waited expectantly at her next course of action.

Eyebrows raised in anticipation. “Well…?”

She mumbled. “…pai…”

“Come again?”

Hinata then raised her head and looked shyly at them.

Flustered. Lips quivering. Hands fiddling the hem of her white shirt. Feet shifting from one side to another.

She took a deep breath.

“T-tendou-senpai! U-u-ushijima-senpai…!” she stuttered yet said in a clearly loud voice.

That does it.

They’ve been struck with the arrow of sunshine deep in their very soul.

The olive-haired guy’s body felt tense for a second.

The Guess Monster suddenly fell dramatically on both knees, clutching his shirt-clad chest as if in a wheezing position.

The female middle blocker panicked, hands waving in front of them.

“A-a-ano…!?!! You two–are you two okay???”

“You… you nearly killed us with your moe-moe attack, you know!?” Tendou exclaimed, quickly bouncing back from his kneeling moments ago.

Hinata tilted her head (again) in puzzlement. “Huh? ‘Moe-moe attack’? What’s that?”

Which caused him to facepalm and shake his head in reply. “Seriously!? What are you… are you even a human being??”

“HEY!”

After a long time lol, Ushijima spoke to her in a blunt manner.

“I did not know that you’re as dense as a rock when it comes to… these kinds of things, Hinata Shouyou.”

You’re one to talk though, Ushiwaka lololol

She scowled again at them. “I’m not!!! Quit teasing me, damn you Ushiwaka~!”

Cute!!!

The redhead then whispered again at the captain’s ear, acting like his bad conscience.

“Let’s take her back with us to the team, Wakatoshi-kun. Let’s keep her and her radiating presence to ourselves.”

He agreed with Tendou’s scheming idea, which is the same thought as his. “Yes, let’s keep her to ourselves.”

Forget about facing the wrath of Karasuno–screw this!

Hinata sensed something suspicious going on between them.

“W-what are you two whispering about? Hey, what do you think you’re doin—hyaah!!! U-ushijima-san…!!!”

She was hoisted up by Ushijima and placed on his shoulder, her flushing face facing towards his broad back and Tendou (who wiggled his long fingers as if doing a little wave of hello), as they walked away from the girls’ restroom.

Both his large and beefy arms holding her tiny waist and slim, lightly-toned milky-white legs to secure her in place.

Hinata Shouyou was being carried by the ace of Shiratorizawa like a sack of rice.

“Put me down! Ushijima-san, please!” she yelped, her fists started banging her captor’s back.

“Where are you two taking me to—ah!!”

His hand is touching my thigh…!

Gripping her legs tighter, Ushijima turned his head around, olive-colored eyes staring sternly against her honey-brown ones.

“I would appreciate it if you stop punching my back. Lest you really want to fall yourself down on the concrete face first?” he hissed.

That stopped Hinata from bruising his back more.

S-scary… Ushiwaka’s really scary! she thought, a faint wave of nausea forming on her stomach.

Silence.

“S-sorry…,” she mumbled guiltily, her hands now touching his back, rubbing small circles to where she had hit him a while ago.

Ah… her hands… she’s comforting me…?

She held out a wry smile. “Does it still hurt, senpai…?”

“…yes, it still hurts. A bit.”

The orange-haired girl panicked again.

“EHHH!? I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry! I’m so so—hiii!!!”

Ushijima gently stroked a finger on the back of her thighs. “Stop flailing yourself or I will really drop you on the ground. Hard.”

Hinata then gulped at the consequence.

“Y-yes, sir…,” she mumbled, her pouty face laced with a deeper shade of red.

Tendou laughed heartily. “You really, really made him mad there, aren’t’cha, dear Chibi-chan~,” he said, ruffling her orange hair.

“And, to answer your question earlier: we’re taking you back to our team!”

“What!?” she exclaimed.

RIP Ushiwaka’s eardrum, part 2.

The decoy shook her head in a disapproving way.

“No, no, no, NO! I don’t wanna! Please let me down, Ushijima-san—I need to go back to my team! I bet they’re waiting for me! We have a practice match today… I want to go back… please?”

“No. You’re coming with us, Hinata Shouyou.”

Sweat drops started to form on Hinata’s face.

“B-but… if I don’t return back soon, K-kageyama-kun will kill me!”

“THE HELL I WILL YOU IDIOT!!!”

Suddenly, a raging Karasuno Number 9 appears—

The three of them flinched, with the girl slowly glancing upward to see Kageyama running towards, glaring.

Oh, crap! Hinata felt shivers down her spine.

“Hinata boke, we’ve been looking for you for almost half a hour!! Why’re you taking so long to take a shit in the bathroom—“

“—BAKAYAMA I DID NOT—AND IT’S ‘POOP’, NOT ‘SHIT’, STUPID!!—”

Tendou snickered at the conversation. “Pfft. He said ‘shit’ to a girl…”

“—we were so worried about you—huh?” He suddenly stopped his bickering when the setter noticed the awkward position his orange-haired partner was in.

Together with two of the members of the Shiratorizawa Academy Men’s Volleyball Club.

Together with the Ushiwaka.

Why is she on his shoulder? he thought, a vein popping on his forehead.

What the hell.

Kageyama walked near them, scowling. “Hey, why are you with Ushijima? Tell me!”

Panic rose across her face.

Sweat began to form on her forehead.

Brown eyes averting his cold blue-eyed stare.

Hinata started to sputter out some words, nearly stuttering in the process.

“K-k-ka-Kageyama-kun! It’s not what you think—“

Ushijima answered him back for her. “We’re bringing Hinata Shouyou back to our team. We’re keeping her.”

“USHIJIMA-SA—hyaah!” He made another stroke at the back of her thigh, making her flushed and gripping the back of his shirt in the process. “P-please… stop—“

He replied with his usual stoic demeanor, but a pink tinge sporting his cheekbones said otherwise.

“No, I won’t stop. I want to see more of that cute expression of yours, …Shouyou-chan.”

Homerun, straight to the kokoro—

Is he smirking at her???

“A-ano… s-s-senpai, please…—“ My heart… beating faster… if this continues… I might—

“What the hell are you two doing with my precious child?”

Sugawara stood in front of them, donning a creepy-like smile.

Dark aura emitted behind the crows’ vice-captain. Now, it’s the two Shiratorizawa players’ turn to shiver.

“S-sugawara-san… please… h-help me…,” his precious kouhai muttered dizzily. “I think I might… fai—“

And her mind went blank.

DO NOT REPOST/EDIT WITHOUT PERMISSION. PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME, KIDS. LIKES ESPECIALLY REBLOGS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED. ALL WORKS © angrymongol01 - 2021.

[ginger-bread-official]

Moony and Thumper Hijinx

Ficlet of a budding friendship between Tonks and Lupin in Harry’s 3rd year. Tonks trains near hogsmead and has found a companion in Remus Lupin. 

Tonks had no official reason to keep her security credentials to the castle. She had finished her dueling training and passed her exam with Moody, but she still wanted to have the freedom to go up to the castle when she pleased to visit her favorite werewolf. It had become apparent that Remus and her had become friends through all of the dueling lessons and afternoon tea that had transpired in the past few months. They would walk the grounds together, plot pranks on the twins, share old stories; she recently started confiding in him about her dating life. He of course was one voice in a choir telling her to get back on the horse and start dating after Tulip’s betrayal, but he was the only voice that listened when she spoke back. He laughed at her date’s blunders and only gently teased her about hers. It had come to her attention during her visits that the students weren’t the only ones noticing the charming werewolf. Aurora Sinestra was commonly found nearby with her deep chocolate eyes focusing more often on the DADA Professor.

“Oh Thumper give it a rest.” Lupin rolled his eyes hearing Tonks’ theory for the hundredth time, “Aurora is not interested in me.” They were in the library searching for reference material that the professor needed for a lesson.

“She most definitely is.” Tonks whispered back. “Every time I’m up here she’s prowling around the corner,” She scratched the air playfully “waiting to pounce on you.” Remus shook his head amused at the young auror. “I’m only sorry I’ve gotten in the way. I don’t mean to be a cock block.”

“I suspect you’re projecting your own frustrations on to me.”

“Don’t try and turn this around to me Moony.” She shut down his deflection. “She’s clearly into you, and you’re blind old wolf to not see it.”

“SHHHH.” The harsh hush of Madam Pince came from around the corner. Tonks winced at the sound. She definitely didn’t miss that old bat looming around every bookcase. The old crone retreated after shooting the pair a dirty look.

“Your going to get yourself a detention Miss Tonks.” Lupin said with a playful smirk. Tonks stuck her tongue out at him, “Mature.” He chortled as he handed her another book to hold.

“When did I become your pack mule?” She added the book to the growing stack.

“When you decided to hang around during my free period.”

“I thought free period meant free time.” She whined. “Like free time to pull one over on Sprout, or free to go flying for a bit.”

“This is when I plan my lessons. Would you rather I don’t teach my students.” He asked still looking through ‘The Defensive Field Guide.’

“I’m sure they’d appreciate a day off. You’re working them pretty hard.”

“They need to catch up if they want to pass their O.W.Ls and N.E.W.Ts.” he closed the book and replaced it gesturing to her to follow him with the books. “I’ve only got 3 students that made it to N.E.W.Ts level from my predecessors. I can’t let them down like that.” He pulled out another Defensive book. Tonks smiled as his focus zeroed in on the book in his hand.

“Whats your goal?”

“My what?” He didn’t look up from the book.

“Your goal? How many students are you trying to get to N.E.W.Ts?” He didn’t look at her, but she noticed his eyes stopped scanning the page. “5? 10? Half?”

“All of them.” He stated

“Come on Professor, it's just you and me, who’s making the cut?” She leant in, “Dish.” She demanded. He finally broke his focus from the book meeting her eyes with a smirk.

“All of them.” He persisted

“Remus—”

“No,” he cut her off, “if I pick and choose the talented ones then I’m failing those who really need my help. So—” he leant in, “All of them, Nymphadora.” She reacted immediately taking the top book off the pile next to her and swinging it at the werewolf head. “Ouch!” He yelped when the book made contact.

“Don’t call me Nymphadora.” She scolded. He was still smiling though undercutting her stern tone. Madam Pince skulked around the corner probably hearing the commotion.

“I think we better head out.” Remus whispered, “Wouldn’t want you to get sent to the Headmasters office.” He was really enjoying toying with her. They checked out the books he picked and headed back to his office. The students they passed waved and greeted Lupin pleasantly. She remarked how he should run for governor of Hogwarts, earning a sly smile from him. She let him read through his books and prepare for his lessons in peace with the promise of shenanigans later. She read her study materials on the couch with the sounds of smooth jazz playing from his record player. A couple students stopped by for some academic help and she perked her head up to watch him interact with the students. She admired how passionate he was about helping these kids, she only wished she had a DADA professor who helped her. She had to work her ass off to make it to N.E.W.Ts and to get an acceptable grade for the Auror program.

She stood after a while.

“Tea?” She asked. Remus raised his hand in acknowledgement, which she took as a yes. She brought his cup to him, looking over his shoulder at his lesson plans. “Is this for your 4th years?” She asked,

“3rd.” He corrected her.

“Ahh. Harry’s year.” He nodded. “What does he call you during class?” Her signature inquisitive nature taking over.

“What?” He asked, remaining focused on his work.

“What does he call you? Remus? Moony? Dad? Pappa Professor?” She huffed in amusement. She saw a small smile play at his lips.

“He calls me Professor.” He answered simply

“But, but he’s your son.” She argued; Remus shrugged,

“He doesn’t call Sirius or I Dad.” Tonks thought on this a moment.

“He definitely has.” She remarked, “He did when we were kids sometimes.”

“Well growing up it would slip out, but Sirius and I never told him to call us dad.” He thought through when Harry would call them Dad, and how they would gently remind him that they were uncle Padfoot and Uncle Moony. Tonks’ brow was stitched. She was compiling all the memories of Harry as a boy, and she found that Lupin was right he called them Padfoot and Moony almost exclusively.

“Why is that?” She didn’t consider that this might be a sensitive issue. “You guys raised him.”  His body tensed and his voice was strained when he answered,

“You’re forgetting, his real dad was our best friend.” She knew she went too far, hit a nerve. A beat of silence fell allowing Tonks to feel properly ashamed.

“Well, whether he calls you dad or not, you’ve done a great job raising him.” His body relaxed and she could have sworn she saw him looking at her from the side of his eye. The tension dispersed; she squeezed his shoulder leaving him to his planning again.

The pair worked the afternoon in amicable silence. Remus worked out his lesson plans while Tonks studied. She didn’t want to think too hard on it, but she had been spending a lot of time with Remus recently. He distracted her, and she was finding she really liked his company. They were unlikely friends, but friends none the less. She had worked her way through most of her potions workbook by mid afternoon. She was working through a particularly annoying antidote when her book was snatched form her view.

“Okay who are we targeting today?” Remus’ boyish smile lifted her out of her study stupor.

“Well we got Snape two weeks in a row. I think we should lay off for a bit.” She reasoned.

“I guess,” he agreed, “Sprout?”

“Oh I could never,” Tonks sounded almost offended at his suggestion, “She’s too trusting and sweet, it's like pranking a kitten.” He chuckled at her reasoning,

“Ok then. How about Minerva?” Her eyes lit up at the suggestion,

“My Everest.”  Tonks agreed. “How do we get her?” She asked the spark returning to her eyes. “Sirius told me about the laser charm to lure Mrs. Norris away. Could we use that?” He chuckled

“It only works on her when she’s a cat.” He explained. Tonks pouted.

“Well then what were you thinking?”

“What if we stash her pillow with cat nip?” Lupin proposed.

“No go. Charlie and I tried something similar our 6th year. She can smell it as a human and then you just get in trouble.” She explained

“Well what if we Charm her quills?”

“To do what?”

“Sign her name as Purrrfessor McGonagall.” Remus smiled at he sudden explosion of laughter.

“Thats brilliant.” She beamed at the professor, “We could also make it so when she writes her first name it changes to ‘meow-va’.”

“Purrrfect.” Remus responded, “I can lure her out of her office with a phony excuse about a student and you sneak in and charm the quills. The only trouble is she adds security charms to her door when she’s not in her office.”

“Way ahead of you. Charlie and I found a way to sneak in her office from the roof.” She stood and put on her gloves adding a sticking charm as she did. “Give me 10 minutes to make it to her office then floo her.” She instructed as she opened his office window and began to lift herself out by the ramparts.

“Tonks wait.” He reached out for her, “We can borrow a broom so you don’t fall off the side of the castle.”

“Your next class starts soon, there’s no time.” She reasoned, “Plus its more fun this way.” She winked as she pulled herself up onto the turret of his tower office. He leant out watching her scale the out side of the castle with her sticky gloves.

“You’re absolutely insane!” He yelled up to her.

“Ten minutes Professor.” Was all she yelled back, and then she was out of sight. Remus chuckled to himself waving is wand at his wrist watch to set a timer.

[angelicichor]

I always imagined that either versions of Leatherface would have the most hectic family time on the 4th of July. Tons of family coming over, distant cousins etc, bbq, tons of meat to prepare for it,drinking, loud music and fireworks, Drayton/Hoyt bitching about how the food isn't that good although he would not do better if he were to cook himself. Even grandpa is there wearing patriotic accessories. Just pure absolute mayhem 😂

Oh, absolutely! 

Thomas would be forced to do SO MUCH heavy lifting for the family, because sure, their family consists of 4 people and the rest either doesn’t exist or doesn’t  care to visit them, but they’ll for sure invite the trailer ladies as well and Hoyt ain’t gonna disappoint America with a half-assed 4th of July!

So we’re talking crates of illegal fireworks, setting them up for the evening, dealing with a big group of people that Hoyt went an extra mile to find, getting them ready for supper, and just... Luda Mae will have a lot of cooking to do, yeah, but THOMAS’ POOR BACK help this BOY.

Hoyt would only be really useful for bringing stuff from the city, like beer, whiskey, smokes, veggies and all this kinda stuff, but everything else is purely Luda, Thomas and if he has one - his s/o. 

They’d only celebrate after 11 pm, because you know Monty and Hoyt would get too fuckin’ drunk to function for more than 2 hours, singing old country songs and watching the TV, but that’s only AFTER the marvelous dinner Luda prepared. 

And I think this is one of those few rare days during which Tommy let’s himself relax, sits down with his uncle and Monty, maybe gets something to drink, but he doesn’t really get drunk... boy’s got a hard noggin for this type of stuff, but he enjoys the feeling of being included, of the family being, well, happy together, no butchering to be done, no fear for the next day, just plain fun. He can do that.

With Sawyers however, oh god, brace yourself, Texas. 

There’s at least 30 people. AT LEAST. Not counting the people in the basement, because, you see, Drayton ain’t the only one leadin’ the butchering life.

Bubba, just like Thomas, is made to do all the heavy lifting, but Nubbins helps him a bit, well, mostly just keeps him company and plays with the victims. 

You know there’s this one auntie who has 5 children, who all immediately swarm Bubba, demanding to be lifted up, squealing at him so he does the same in return and they LOVE IT, because they love their cousin, especially that one blondie baby, who just has stars in her eyes when she sees him and Bubba gives her one of his masks at some point.

Nubbins only really pays attention to anything once Chop Top comes around, and then the two start fighting, wrestling, biting each other, like the feral rat men they are, meanwhile Drayton is off discussing something with another family member, talking about how sex ruins all good things, even though he should be getting the children off Junior, so he can make his delicious Chili.

The first guests have arrived at 6 in the morning and it’s an old couple that will be leaving later, but just wanted to chat with grandpa, help him dress up as Uncle Sam before leaving, the granny kissing Bubba’s cheeks with all the love in the world, but Nubbins just gets a cheek pinch, because she knows he’s a naughty, naughty boy. 

The second ones to arrive are the married folks who brought like... way too many fireworks. Like, they needed two pick-ups to get them to the house. There’s too many, please --- And they’ve been shooting those babies from 10 am till the end of the party and somehow STILL  have some left, which they’ll use on their ride home, because fuck law.

But honestly I LIVE for the headcanon that the Sawyers and The Hewitts are cousins. 

Mostly because I just wanna see Tommy and Bubbsy interacting.

Like they arrive and Bubba immediately squeals in happiness, running to hug his big cous’, whining and giggling as he lets him go, only to squeeze him again and Thomas just goes with it, because why not.

 They both help each other while unpacking everything and you KNOW Bubba’s fucking amazed by Thomas, the way he can carry more than him, how he’s more precise with the meat, how fast and focused his hands are... Just a star eyed baby watching like Thomas is the most talented person in the world. And Tommy feels so awkward with it, so he just... skits over and motions to one person’s face, pointing to Bubba or more precisely - his masked face, then to his own and it takes moment for the youngest Sawyer to register that he just got asked FOR A MASK. And oh gosh is he excited. 

 And the rest of the family still comes, but while everybody is excited to see Bubba, Thomas kinda... intimidates them, so the giant tries to make himself as small as possible, not to scare the children, but don’t worry! Bubba’s here to rescue him!

The moment Bubba interacts with Thomas, everybody is more willing to do so as well, and soon enough Tommy is just... covered by little slimy gremlins that those people call their children. He’s loving it. 

Drayton and Charlie argue the WHOLE DAY, but at the end of it their argument comes to a close - because it’s time to prove who’s the better head of their family. And there’s only one way to do that! BUBBA, TOMMY, ARM WRESTLING, NOW.

Thomas laughs it off, but... But Bubba is ALL ABOUT THIS. He sits down fast as lightning and is giving Thomas that expectant look, but his cousin is just... confused, why would he? He doesn’t want to hurt Bubbsy, they’re family and sure this is only arm wrestling, but that can do SO MUCH DAMAGE when it’s two giant, powerful men doing it.

But Bubba insists, so Tommy listens and is surprised that Bubba is actually... fucking STRONG. He should’ve expected that and he did, but not to that extent.

They both give it their best, but in the end Thomas ends it with a loud slam and to his shock the table flips over and Bubba falls to the floor, but damn it, he’s SO STARSTRUCK. 

 Thomas is called the best man in the family instead of Hoyt, who is FURIOUS about it, but nobody cares and LUDA IS SO PROUD OF HER BOY.

Speaking of which, whenever Bubba and Thomas are alone Luda Mae will come up to them, praise both, tell them how handsome they are, tug their ears affectionately, because their cheeks are PROTECTED DAMN IT.

And she’ll definitely have a tissue with her to swipe away any dirt on Bubba’s face, he loves his auntie and doesn’t understand why Thomas is so embarrassed when she tries to clean his mask too.

Around 6 pm everybody sits down, gives grace and starts F E A S T I N G. Except Thomas, but when asked he just hangs his head and gives a shy smile, but the family understands, he isn’t the most open person. They make sure to leave food for him for later, when he won’t have so many eyes on him.Instead of eating he carves a dope-ass knife out of a bone that he found on the floor, leaves it on the bench for anyone to pick up and it just dissappears at some point. 

Also - DO NOT mix Nubbins and Thomas. Tommy has thrown the rat man against a wall before and is NOT afraid to do that before. They just... don’t work.Chop Top though gets on with Thomas surprisingly well, but it’s probably because Tommy is absorbed by his vast CD collection. He sure as hell comes back home with at least 15 of them and a player that he borrowed. Luckily Chop Top can drive himself to retrieve it at some point. 

kjaklsjalldk I could write headcanons for those bastards interacting for HOURS, but that would be too long ｡ﾟ･（>﹏

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 109

109

109

   “Relax. It’s Mami”

Keith had forgotten how to walk. Like when you’re being examined by a doctor and they tell to you walk normally but in that exact moment you have no memory of this walking normally business

“It’s because it’s Mami. What’s if she hates me?”

Lance swatted Keith hand away from here he was trying make his jacket collar sit properly

“Dude, you are the son she always wanted. I’m the son she got stuck with”

“But I got her son pregnant. I took your virtue...”

“You mean you railed my arse into next year as you knocked me up? I’m pretty sure she knows how that first bit works”

Lance was stressing now they’d arrived. He’d been stressing picking them perfect flowers, the stressing when Keith had to pull over so he could throw up. He was nervous, Lance was stressed, this was going to go great

“Babe, you’re getting cranky”

“Because she’s my mum... do you know how I worked to sleep through not having this conversation?”

“I knew you were faking!”

“I’m weird enough... oh, god. I hope she doesn’t ask how I’m supposed to give birth. I don’t even know how it’s going to come out!”

  Keith hung his head. They weren’t even out the car park and they were both acting like fools

“You wanted to see Mami. We’re going to see Mami”

Lance whined softly at him, tugging on Keith’s left arm

“I know... let me nervous”

“I’m nervous too. I’ve still got work after this an a fear I’m about to be orphaned again”

“Mami’s not going to keel over!”

“I didn’t say she would. I meant more like she’d boot me to the curb and take her walker to my head”

Lance nodded, an action that wasn’t exactly reassuring

“Babe!”

“What? I could see her doing that, but not to you”

“Your reassurance fills me with confidence”

“Mami loves you, it’ll be fiiiiiiine”

  It was fine for Lance. He’d had 45 years with Mami. Keith also had the suspicion his boyfriend had jerked off in the shower. Lance didn’t usually take 10 minute showers, not unless they were fooling around. Having a vampire for a boyfriend did give him the advantage when it came to shower sex. None of this not so sexy freezing his arse off. He missed shower sex... Now Lance was dressed neatly in black skinny jeans, a white dress shirt and cardigan. Keith dressed also in black skinny leg jeans, though he wore a black button up shirt and his leather jacket... he kind of looked ready for his inevitable funeral.

  Signing them in, Lance managed to spell his own name wrong. Starting with a “K” instead of an “L”. Yeah. This was going to be a long trip. He’d already walked into the doorframe, after pulling instead of pushing. Keith scrubbing his face with his hand in secondhand embarrassment, then feeling his stomach bottom out once they got to the sign in book. Lance didn’t seem to have noticed that Luis was signed in. Keith didn’t know if he could possibly keep his temper if Luis so much as breathed. Not with how protective of Lance he was feeling. He’d fucked up so badly, and was determined not to let Lance feel like that again.

  Following Lance through the centre, Miriam was sitting at one of the activities tables playing cards with Luis and a man he didn’t recognise by name, but knew from his looks exactly who he was. Marco. The middle brother. Okay, so it might be wrong, but if Lance ever grew older he hoped he looked more like Marco than Luis

“Mis hijos!”

Mami dropped her hand of cards down, Luis sighing. Marco pushing his chair back as he rose to his feet. He was smiling... smiling wasn’t awful? Lance stalled beside him, mumbling softly

“Marco...”

“Been a while baby brother... Time’s been kind to you”

“I didn’t know you were back”

  And just like that Lance was on guard again

“Mami talks about this place so much that I thought I’d see if for myself”

“Marco!”

Luis scolded his brother, the way he said the man’s name said it all

“Would you three stop it. Keith, so good to see you again. Come sit by this old lady. These two cheat at cards”

Fucking awkward as fuck. Without Lance explaining that “mijo” was a contraction of “mis hijo” he wouldn’t have got what the extra “s” was on about.

  Towing Lance around the table, Keith snagged an empty chair for his boyfriend. His Mami hadn’t really said hello to Lance, Lance looking very lost as Keith sat him between him and Miriam purely to keep him from sitting closer to his two brothers. Marco asking

“Sooooooo, who’s this?”

He even sounded like Lance. Like an older Lance. Dressed casually, Marco seemed to be “beach bum” personified with his Hawaiian shirt over his blue single, and his black board shorts. Around his neck was a single necklace, a ring and small carved surfboard pendant on the chain. Mami smiled proudly

“This is Keith. Isn’t he handsome? Our Lance snagged a good one when he snagged him. Keith, this is Marco. His not as cranky as Luis but he has his moments”

  Marco held his hand out, Keith forced to take it, his fingers nearly crushed in the firmness of the handshake. Marco definitely testing him. He wasn’t about to be scared off. He was there to see Miriam, with Lance, who really needed his mother right now. Marco released his hand, eyes on Lance

“Damn, man. You haven’t changed a day. Bet you love looking like that. I turn my back and you’ve gone and got yourself a boyfriend”

“Marco, you leave Lance be. He’s only been out of hospital a couple of days and doesn’t need you being bratty”

  Marco raised his hands in defeat, shaking his head. He really was so much like Lance that it bordered creepy  

“Didn’t mean anything by it. Just saying dating a vampire isn’t everyone’s thing. It’s been years, Mami”

Casting a glance to Lance, Mami’s flowers seemed in danger. Plucking the bouquet out of Lance’s hands, Keith placed it on the table, before taking Lance’s hand in his

“It’s fine. I know about Lance being a vampire. I’m a Vatican approved Vampire and Werewolf hunter based here in Platt”

Two could play this game. Luis crossed his arms, feathers ruffled as he was knocked down a peg

“That’s a thing?”

“Yep. I don’t scare easily, though Lance isn’t scary at all, are you, babe?”

  Lance stared down at their hands. Maybe Keith was taking it too far by not letting himself be bullied. Mami didn’t care

“Keith has been so good for Lance. Plus, he’s such a hottie. All the ladies here are in love with him and Lance. Both of them very patient with us old geese”

“Some of us have all the time in the world”

Lance pushed his chair back at Luis’s comment

“Sorry, I need to use the bathroom”

  That could have gone better. Keith should have followed him, but Mami gave him a look that told him to stay put as Lance walked away

“Must you antagonise him? Both of you. That was unacceptable. Marco, I thought you’d know better. Now, I’m disappointed in both of you. Keith, would you mind bringing those flowers along. I can see it in your eyes that you and Lance have something you need to tell me”

Luis wasn’t happy

“You see them more than you see us... Marco tried to see you last week and now we find out Lance was in hospital. You owe us an explanation”

“Your brother was in an accident. The details of which I don’t believe I should tell you lest you hold it over him. I’m old and I’m tired, Luis. You all used to be so happy when you were younger. Marco, I’m sorry, dear, but you’re as much to blame. Now, you can come back tomorrow. Keith and Lance have to come to visit, it’d be nice if the next time we all see each other if you could make the effort to be mature. We could have had a nice game of cards. Keith would make an excellent strip poker player”

  Miriam winked at him. Keith felt kind of weird about being designated the family stripper. Mami didn’t let anyone hold her back... and any thoughts of feeling bad about interrupting the game went out the window when both brothers had gotten snarky

“Sorry, Keith, maybe next time, bro. I’d love to know how my brother snagged you”

Luis didn’t look pleased but that wasn’t unusual nor was it his problem. His problem was his pregnant boyfriend that couldn’t deal with this not so touching reunion

“Lance will be in my room, no need to fret”

   Lance was indeed in Mami’s room. Sitting on her bed he was staring at family photo. Shuffling over with her walker, Mami sat herself down next to him, Keith awkward as he held her flowers

“You didn’t run far”

Lance snorted at his Mami

“Sorry. I wasn’t expecting to see Marco after so long”

“He’s staying with Luis at the moment. Something to do with that job of his. Now, I know you and Keith are hiding something from me...”

Miriam took the photo frame from Lance, smiling as she ran her fingers over the glass

“... you kids were always such trouble. Always getting into scraps and coming home with bruises... Those days are my fondness memories...”

“That one was taken in Cuba, wasn’t it?”

Mami nodded

“Shortly before we left... Do you remember it?”

“I remember Aunt Sarah calling all of Gerald and praying for our souls... It was the first time I heard Veronica say “fuck”, but I’d already started to forget before the bite”

Mami chuckled

“Veronica had some very strong opinions of moving here. She’s still as stubborn and wild spirited as she was as a little girl”

“Veronica ran the household like an army general, Mami... I remember times when you had no idea what to do with her”

“But we never stopped her from being herself or encouraging her. Now, tell this old bird what’s going on. Both of you look more jumpy than a cat with worms”

  Keith wasn’t sure what that had to do with things, Lance sighing at his Mami

“Mami, you know how I’ve been going through some stuff since I fed on Keith... well... something else has happened”

“You can’t fool me into thinking it was just an accident. Now spit it out, I’ve only got so long in this world and I’d like to hear what you have to say before I pop off the mortal coil”

Lance sighed again. Usually Mami was much softer but he knew she was worried about her baby boy

“Well... I’m pregnant”

Mami let out a chuckle, Lance looked kind of hurt. Keith finally moving over to place the flowers down on Mami’s bed, feeling overly protective of his boyfriend

“It’s not a joke, Mami. Lance is a special type of vampire... that’s why he was in hospital at VOLTRON”

  Mami placed the photo down beside her, before placing her hand on Lance’s

“My dear boy... at this stage I thought nothing in the world could surprise me... Has Coran confirmed it?”

Lance reached for Keith’s hand, Keith half hugging his boyfriend as he answered for the both of them

“Yeah... Lance had a bad reaction to contraceptives and when Coran tested his blood. He’s had an ultrasound and has another in a couple of days...”

  Mami squeezed Lance’s hand, his boyfriend still wouldn’t look at her

“Now the both of you have baby jitters... My sweet boys. A baby is nothing to fear. You should have seen Lance’s father. He was beside himself, a mess of excitement and worry. He didn’t know what to do. Things were very different then. You got on did what you had to do around it, but he was very careful. Worried I was made of glass. Absolutely infuriating, I’ll tell you”

Tearfully Lance asked her softly

“How are you okay?”

“Lance, you’ve been a vampire a long time now. I’ve seen many things and met many people. This baby might have come as a shock, but you’re my precious son. We’ve come this far together. How far along are you now?”

Keith forced himself to ease back, to let Lance say whatever it was he needed to tell his mother

“About 5 weeks...”

“Ah, still very early, and very early for you to find out. And you want to keep it?”

“I... yeah... I think but I nearly lost it once”

“Close calls can be quite scary. I nearly lost Rachel... but you, you were always a fighter. As soon as you could move you were off and moving, my little Lance”

“You never told me about Rachel”

“Ah... it was harvest season, I collapsed in the heat. Jorge was beside himself... You worry too much about me, and not nearly enough about you. How do you feel?”

“Tired. I’m sick of throwing up, but Coran says I have to keep eating for the sake of the baby”

   Mami moved her hand from Lance’s to wrap her arm around him, Lance leaning into her as she kissed his hair

“He’s a wise man, that Coran. Always been happy and always been very proud of you. He’s told me all about the soft spot he has for you. You better be listening to him”

“Yes, Mami. And Keith...”

His Mami let out a soft chuckle

“How is the dad to be? I expect you’re feeling first baby jitters more so than Lance here”

“He is. He’s doing all he can, but I lost my shit at him earlier”

“That’s because it’s a very emotional time for the pair of you... You need to talk. You might feel awful about the things that need to be said, but there’s no room for misunderstanding when there’s a baby to consider. Jorge and I got into some pretty bad fights, he was convinced he’d drop one of you on your heads or leave you in the chicken pen. He was wonderful when you kids were little. You all made him so happy. You made me so happy. Has the morning sickness started?”

“Not really... just, you know, I can’t eat without it coming back up”

“Ahhh... yes. You’re rather limited with your diet. Growing a baby takes a lot of time and patience. Some days you feel like the world is against you. Some days you don’t want to move at all. Some days you’ll find the smallest of things bringing you to tears, but it’s all worth it to hold your baby for the first time... I’ll never forget holding you. You were so active, then so quiet when you came out. After 4 kids, you practically walked out the door... There wasn’t any of this pelvic floor business when I was birthing you. Now, when’s this ultrasound?”

“On Tuesday... do... can you be there?”

“I can, if that’s okay with Keith. He’s the one who’s going to be there more than I ever could”

“Don’t say that... Mami... I’m so sorry... I... fucked up everything and... I... wasn’t going to tell you until after the scan and I’m scared I’m going to lose it... I’m not normal”

“You stop that, you hear me. You’re my precious boy with a heart too big for this world”

“But... won’t this make things complicated?”

“You leave that to me. I might be old but I can still whip your siblings into shape. Never underestimate an old woman and her slippers”

  Lance snorted, nuzzling into his Mami

“I still live in fear of those pink slippers of yours. I’ll never forget the time Rachel poured nail polish on the mat in the living room...”

“That girl was a terror. The stories I could tell. Her sneaking out to see her latest boyfriend. She never thought we knew until your father nailed her window shut”

“I remember that. She came in through my room...”

“And you both got the slipper for it. You’re going to be okay, mijo... and you too, Keith. This baby might not have been planned, but you’ll grow together, learn together. I feel it in my waters”

  Keith didn’t have these stories like Lance did... He felt out of place. Krolia didn’t know, and he doubted she’d be supportive, like Mami was. He found himself asking

“How do you stop being scared?”

“That one takes some time. Take day step at a time, and don’t forget to love each other along the way. All couples fight. No couple is as perfect as they seem, but it’s what you do after you fight. There’s nothing more important than an apology. Don’t let the things fester between you. And when you’re in doubt drawn comfort and strength from each other. You see the best in each other that you yourself might not think is there. My son found happiness in you, and you and in he. Things won’t always be easy, but approach them as a team and your troubles won’t be so bad. You’re a kind man, Keith. You remind me of my Jorge. I bet you’ve been panicking over this as hard as Lance, feeling like you’ve done something horribly wrong. You haven’t. You’ve made an old girl like me happy by showing this one he’s not the monster he thinks he is. Heavens knows how stubborn he is”

“He is pretty stubborn”

“All of them were. Now, come here and give me a hug. You look terribly uncomfortable standing like that”

    *

Mami always gave the best advice. Working her magic on both of them. Lance holding Keith’s hand with both of his as they walked back to Shiro’s car. When he’d seen Marco interacting with Keith, he’d felt jealous. Luis wouldn’t touch Keith with a ten foot pole and then some, Marco shaking his hand as if it was his right. Resting his head against his boyfriend’s arm, he felt better for seeing Mami. He hoped Keith did too... He’d really lost his shit at him before and was mortified over all the yelling he’d done.

  “I wish I didn’t have to get back to work”

“I wish you didn’t either. You didn’t even have time to take a nap”

Keith sighed at him. His boyfriend had something to say and wasn’t saying it to him or to Mami. Lance guessing what it was

“You’re thinking about Krolia, aren’t you?”

“Why didn’t Mami ask about her?”

“Because she knows that’s your business. She wants you to feel ready to talk to her when the time is right”

“I don’t know how I’m going to tell her”

“We can do it together? Or we can have Mami there? Or if you want you can talk to her alone. I’ll support what you choose”

“I don’t know what to choose”

“Then think about it. Let me know when you know, or if it happens, I won’t be mad”

“You were pretty mad this morning”

Lance blushed in shame

“I was a total shit to you. I really wasn’t cool at all”

“You have a lot going on”

“Not as much as you do. It’s hard seeing you scared and I know you close down, but it...”

“Was hard?”

Lance nodded

“Yeah. I mean... like whenever we’re together we’re always touching, and then you didn’t want to touch me there and I freaked out thinking that you were done with me”

  Keith sighed, pulling Shiro’s keys out his pocket

“I’m not done with you. I’m just... caught in the past”

“I know. I shouldn’t have lost it at you because you were trying to respect me”

“And you should have pointed out I was being a douche”

“It’s okay now”

Keith bumped him lightly with his hip

“You totally jerked off, didn’t you?”

Lance’s cheeks burned harder. Yep. He couldn’t deny it

“Yeah... didn’t really help but whatever”

“What do you mean it didn’t help?”

It’d been more of a chore than pleasure, just something to get rid of the throbbing between his legs

“The reason I want you touch me is because it’s you. I look at you and my body reacts... you’ve turned me into a total pervert”

“I’m sorry I’m not ready”

Keith didn’t need to be sorry, the vampire simply wished he’d been able to tell Lance sooner. Maybe if he hadn’t been a self centred butt nugget he would have?

“It’s okay. My dick totally has a mind of its own...”

“Would blood help? Fresh blood. Coran said...”

Coran needed to stop putting ideas in Keith’s head, and let Keith work his own thoughts and feelings out first

“Coran says a lot of things. Let’s head home and go from there”

“Babe...”

“Keith, there’s today and tomorrow, then we’re going to see Coran again... and we can talk to him then... until then, please stop worrying so much about blood”

  Keith pulled away from him, Lance seemed to have stepped on some mental landmine. Clenching his fits, his boyfriend stared down at the ground

“Keith?”

“It’s my baby”

Yeah? Who else’s was did he think it was?

“Yeah, babe. It’s your baby”

“So why is it okay for you to rely on other people’s blood and not mine? Why is my blood never good enough... even when you’re carrying my baby you won’t let me help you”

Oh...

“Babe, it’s not like that”

“But it is. Some stranger’s blood is keeping you alive and moving... why can’t it be mine? Why is someone else’s blood better than mine? You only feed on me when your a bat or in heat... why won’t you let me help you?”

  Using a little of his speed, Lance moved to stand in front of Keith, taking his face in his hands

“I can’t feed on you consciously because you are my world. You. If I feed to much, or too often, you’re going to be sick... You’re not my pet, you’re my partner, and you take care of me so fucking well... When I have fresh blood I’m an arsehole with way too much energy. I’m scared to feed on you because I’m in love with you”

“You say you know I won’t hurt you... but I know you won’t hurt me. I want to help. I want to give you my energy... I want... my blood to... be good”

Keith was breaking his heart now

“Your blood is good. Your blood is so good. You’re so good... but what if I fed on you too much? What if because of me you can’t work? What if me feeding on you leaves you weakened and you can’t protect yourself? And what if I can’t stop?”

“But you do... when we... you do... I don’t... want you having to live a half life off other peoples blood when you’re growing our baby... I want... to be wanted”

“You are wanted. You are the single most wanted man by me in existence... I know you’ve been like this a while, offering me your blood, but you’ve been bottling up how much it annoys you, haven’t you?”

“Sometimes I think about it... but I guess... I guess seeing your family really made me think about blood... family isn’t about blood... but today... I want to be your boyfriend you can rely on to be there. I don’t want you think I’m going to leave you alone like your brothers... I want my blood to be more than our baby”

Lance sighed softly, leaning up and kissing Keith on the forehead

“I know this is hard for you. But... I’m... I worry that if I feed on you I won’t be who I am anymore... that my ego will slip out of control and I won’t be the man you love anymore. I know you want to support me. I know you’d offer me your neck in an instant... and I know you trust me... but you’ve seen how fresh blood can affect me. I practically pounced on you when you fed me in my first heat and your hips were sore for days. I love you and your blood... but I get it more now than ever. You don’t want your baby surrounded by a strangers blood... that’s what it really is. You humans are so fragile, babe. You can’t feed me what I need for days. Vampires get too hungry, that’s why most pets are weakened or why their not the only pet belonging to their master”

“Then... then how... how do I help you?”

“We can talk to Coran? He’s the only one I know who we can talk to about all this. Maybe if we tell him what’s been going on in our heads, he can help us figure it out?”

  Keith threw his arms around, Lance pleasantly surprised by the affection

“I just want to be in our baby’s life”

“Dude, you will be. Who’s hand do you think I’m going to be holding when it comes to getting this little out of me? You can break my heart and chop me into a zillion little pieces and I wouldn’t deny you access... Even... even if you have to leave, for work or whatever, I’m going to be taking videos and telling them all about their daddy. You lost your dad too young, but that doesn’t mean the same will happen to you. They will know you and who you are Keith Kogane. I will never ever let them forget you”

Keith sighed softly at him

“Thank you...”

“Sometimes you just need to hear the words...”

“Yeah...”

“You’re so much better with your words these days. I’m proud of you”

“I’m lucky to have you”

“I’m the lucky one... and you should probably let me go now. You’ve stirred up the monster”

  Keith sniffled as he chuckled, pulling back

“I’m going to make it up to you... when we know it’s okay”

“I’m counting on it... and counting the places I expect to be bent over”

His boyfriend turned beet red, adjusting himself as he tried to turn away. They we’re definitely weirdos for popping random boners in the car park of a nursing home

“That’s not fair”

“Sure it is. You can make a list of all the things you want to try”

“Shut up. You’re making it worse”

Lance started towards the passenger side door of Shiro’s car, throwing over his with a wink

“Just remember to think of me when you’re jerking off at work”

Keith groaned at him, very awkwardly shuffling to the car. Both of them were stupid horny lived up idiots, and Lance was not helping things at all. The ultrasound couldn’t come sooner.