#tooru oikawa angst
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bokutoko · 2 months ago
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“the moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”
ᴏɪᴋᴀᴡᴀ softly smiled to himself—though it didn’t quite reach his eyes—as he watched the late night sky. it was littered with bright stars, big and small, with a beautiful crescent moon hanging in the middle of his view. truly, it was breathtaking. strangely, it was a rather chilly summer evening in argentina, one where the breeze sent a slight chill through him, goosebumps rising on his arms.
he remembered all those months ago, when he uttered that beautifully haunting phrase to you.
“don’t say that,” you replied back, not even turning to face him, fully understanding the underlying meaning in his words, “you don’t get to say that to me now, tooru. not when you leave in four hours.” and sadly, you were right, because that was all it ever would be. useless pining that was doomed to fizzle away, destined to be all for naught.
he felt a familiar ache in his heart again, and he sighed, letting his eyes fall closed, letting his mind go astray. he wondered the same thoughts as always—how you were doing, if you’d done well in university, if you’d gotten the job you always dreamed of, if you’d drank water today…
and like a broken record, his mind drifted and heart skipped to if you found someone new. someone who would treat you right, someone who deserved the beautiful love you exuded, someone who wouldn’t leave you—
it felt hard to breathe suddenly. oikawa’s throat became thick, making it difficult to swallow. the mere thought of someone else loving you, when his heart still beats for you and you alone… it made him want to vomit.
a small, selfish part of him wondered if you ever thought about him too. if you ever looked out at the moon and thought of him, causing your heart to ache like his always did.
as fucked as it was to admit, he hoped so. because he thought about you every day, without fail. he saw you in everything around him: the sunrise when he went on his morning run, the rare days of rain in his new home country, and the night sky when he watched the stars.
as a child, he was always told by his mother that if he truly loved something, to let it go. for beautiful things deserved to be free, to be allowed to flourish and grow without anything weighing it down. and if it returned, he could love it forever. if it didn’t, it was never meant to be.
and while it killed him to leave you, to set you free, he knew it was the right thing to do. for him and for you. you, in all your beauty, deserved freedom. and he, likewise, needed his liberty to prosper as well.
he only wished that one day, you two would find your way back to one another. all he had was to hold on and hope that you both will find your way back in the end.
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a/n: i listen to the first two minutes of about you by the 1975 and suddenly i’m inspired... sorry
masterlist | navigation
please do not copy, alter, or repost my work. ©bokutoko 2025.
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shxtodxroki · 2 years ago
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Tooru Oikawa Masterlist
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Here is where you will find all of my writing for Oikawa! I hope you enjoy, and if you like these feel free to drop a request in my inbox at any time! <3
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♡ Drabbles ♡
- All Yours (600+, Fluff)
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tsukimirecs · 9 months ago
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olympic team hq!! // fic recommendations
note: remember to read the tags! + i do not own any of these works ⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*
atsumu
neon lights (in a world gray) triple trouble drunk mind sober heart green with envy a commemoration of firsts till one of us caves long black anyways, don't be a stranger
kageyama
fate when one door closes stolen kisses miscommunication him?! haunt me volleyball on the brain you can hear it in the silence
sakusa
soft and wet public transit miscarry it's still love drawing our moments bed this victory is mine, and yours touch starved
oikawa
babygirl pinch two stories settle always perfect pain split here's to the sixth time
ushijima
request trust fall atlas bitter / sweet soft, but for you only in time page 304
bokuto
inferior an accidental heroine as loud as you like lucid swept up in the moment heart attack
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satoruxx · 10 months ago
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you fiddle with your nails as you walk home at tooru's side, the sounds of mattsun, makki, and iwa bickering further up ahead cutting through the empty streets. you’re uncharacteristically nervous, because god knows you’ve never done something like this before—but you steel yourself because it’s worth it for him.
your feelings for oikawa tooru are all consuming—strong and deep and intense. they’ve been brewing for well over two years now, nourished by the increased amount of time you’ve spent with him. they overwhelm you, washing over your being with an intensity you’ve never felt before, and they drive you to stick by his side for as long as you can—desperate and aching for the boy who puts the stars in your sky.
you know that timing is important because tooru is nothing if not driven—singularly focused on the sport that gives him the air he needs to breathe. so you wait until well after his match with karasuno, giving your all to support him and the rest of the team because volleyball has become important to you after spending so much time with them. you give it time, wait until after the team has taken the time to lament over their missed chance, and after all the third years are ready to move on to the next phase of their lives, before you finally decide to spill your guts to him.
tooru stares ahead as he’s walking, pensive and unsmiling, and you’re dying to know what’s going on in his head. his eyes are bright, a contrast to his expression, and there’s a resolute glint in his irises that has you feeling oddly shaken. when you reach his house, the rest of the group waves back at him before continuing on, and you realize this is your chance.
so, dangerously, you put your heart on the line.
you tell him everything you've ever thought about him—how you admire his drive and his passion, how you have looked up to him for years and years. how you have never felt so deeply for someone before knowing him. it comes out in a rushed ramble of words, all those nights of practicing in the mirror doing nothing for you in the actual moment. you stumble a few times, your face getting warmer with every word, and yet as each sentence falls forth you feel a weight lift from your shoulders—the flesh of your lungs clatter against your ribs, anxious and eager.
tooru inhales, gaze darting between your eyes and then flitting downwards. even in the dark of the night, you can see the pinkish hue crawling up his neck, can see the way he fidgets with his own fingers. he stares at you, lips parted as a wide array of emotions flit over his handsome features—they finally settle into a strange combination of apologetic and resigned.
and then he tells you no.
he tells you that volleyball will always take precedence, that he has already mapped out his future, which is too far away from you. he tells you about argentina and how his mind is made up. he tells you that he's flattered, that he's glad you're friends but that's all he can do right now.
“i'm sorry,” he says with a grimace. he studiously avoids looking at you, but you can't stop staring at him—your stomach sinks as he turns to head inside.
it takes you months to muster up the courage to tell him. it takes him two minutes to say no to you.
the rejection stings in a way that is unfamiliar, and you take a shaky breath as you walk down the street to catch up with the others.
the humiliation makes itself known in the form of a painful lump in your throat—unmoving and heavy. when you glance up you see that the third years have hung back, waiting for you. makki is wearing a knowing grin, but it falters when he sees your expression. mattsun, ever observant, seems to immediately understand, and he wordlessly slings an arm over your shoulder.
all you can do is awkwardly chuckle, knowing that it sounds weak and throaty as you shake your head. “i feel stupid,” you admit, voice wobbling as heat burns through your skin—unpleasant and unwelcome.
“you're not stupid,” makki mutters, hands shoved deep in his pockets as his lips slant regretfully. you stare at the ground, nodding slowly under the weight of mattsun's arm. your lungs ache, and you know that if you open your mouth, you will lose it entirely. so all you can manage to do is look up at iwa with glassy eyes and trembling lips and a rueful smile that probably makes you look as pathetic as you feel.
you don't notice the way his fists are clenched at his sides, nails digging indents into his palms. he grits his teeth, gaze flitting to oikawa's house in the background, but he doesn't say anything.
none of them speak as they walk you home, and you try your best to keep the sniffles to a minimum, too embarrassed to look at them.
you've never felt pain like this before, and it's hard to get over it because everything reminds you of tooru. it's like someone has taken a knife and carved into your ribcage, grasping your heart before taking it out crushing it between bloodied fingers. but even despite the gaping hole in your chest you know that there are expectations to be met, things to be done.
that's the strange thing about your silly unrequited love—it hurts and hurts and hurts some more until it stops one day before you can realize it. even though your chest is still bleeding you go on with life—you go to university, you get a job, you pay bills. you get up in the morning and brush your hair and drink water and tie your shoes until the wound closes itself up. you start smiling a little wider and laughing a little freer until oikawa tooru is nothing more than an old name.
and of course there are instances where you are reminded of him and what could've been, whether it's seeing milk bread in a supermarket or passing by children hitting a volleyball over a net out in the sun. you know very well that your friends are occasionally still in contact with their old captain, not that this bothers you. after all, mattsun, makki, and iwa were very careful not to bring him up around you, which you're grateful for. so even hearing the name in passing becomes easier.
it is difficult until it isn't anymore.
you've all but forgotten him now, after years and years and years—nothing more than a distant memory.
so imagine the sinking feeling of dread pooling in your stomach when you walk into the restaurant on makki's birthday and see oikawa tooru sitting at the bar, drink in hand. his eyes are alight as he laughs at whatever conversation he's joined, dark hair falling into his eyes messily.
one step forward, ten steps back.
for a second you can't help but stare, breath stolen from your lungs because it feels like the knife is back and twisting itself into your flesh all over again. there is a panic rising in your throat, suffocating and overwhelming and jarring.
tooru lifts his glass to his lips, hiding his grin as his gaze lazily travels over the expanse of the room.
another surge of panic. the familiar sting of humiliation.
he pauses as he's about to take a sip, brown eyes widening when they land on you, and you see the sharp inhale he takes. his stare doesn't waver, too consumed by shock to look away.
and yet that's all you can do—tear your eyes away because you're different now and it's long gone and you know there is no point in going down that rabbit hole again.
it was a lifetime ago—it's done now.
but you will never know how long tooru thought of you after that night back in high school. you will never know that he felt sick to his stomach when he saw the way your face fell at his rejection. you will never know that he bit his tongue so hard it bled as he watched you walk away from him. you will never know that he spent countless nights in argentina wondering what you were up to and how you were. you will never know that sacrificing you for his beloved sport was the hardest thing he's ever done.
so imagine the sinking feeling of dread tooru feels when he sees the way your eyes light up as you find your way over to iwa's side.
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@teddybeartoji this is for you mickey ily hehehehehe
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alpali · 1 month ago
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There was nothing more you hated than overly cocky guys. Especially when they had the talent to back it up.
That’s how you felt about Oikawa Toru.
The ace in the volleyball team, the ace in his studies, the ace with the ladies. His whole presence was infuriating to you.
You had to admit yes, you had no reason to hate him. But you were a little hater at heart. So of course when you catch his attention. He is not leaving you alone. “There’s my favorite girl! How’ve you been hm?” He quips, taking the empty seat right next to you. You glare at him with at least what you think is the most deadliest look ever. But to him you look so adorable he bites his lip, trying to stifle a laugh.
“What do you want shittykawa.” You grumble and his face pales.
“Don’t tell me you’ve been hanging with Iwa-Chan.” He blinks and you blink, your face contorting in anger once again.
“Who the hell even is that!” He visibly looks relieved and sets his chin on the palm of his hand.
“Anywho, how do you feel about coming to one of my games. I’ll dedicate all my killer serves to you.” He winks and you look disgusted.
“I’d rather die.”
He pouts.
“When are you gonna stop acting like you hate me.”
“This isn’t an act.” You mutter.
He grins.
“You know you’re really pretty when you’re mad.”
“Don’t you have a bajillion minions to tend to? Leave me alone.” You roll your eyes.
“Who needs them when I have you!” He smiles and he means it. But you’ll never know that.
“I hate you.”
“I love you too.”
When you’re gone for a week. His demeanor begins to diminish. At first he just thought you were avoiding him. But now he was worried. And it was starting to affect his volleyball playing.
“I thought this girl hated you anyways. Why do you even like her.” Iwaizumi crosses his arms.
“You don’t get it.” Oikawa sighs.
“Just admit it, you like the chase. Once you get her you’ll get bored and dump her like you do with the rest.”
“You make me sound like a terrible person!”
“You are.”
“Am not!” Oikawa says, sticking out his tongue.
Oikawa sighs once again as he’s on his way to his first class, he had a routine. He grabs a coffee, pops his head in your class, teases you to no end, then goes to class.
Hes about to walk past your class until he sees you peacefully sleeping on your desk. He blinks, watching from the outside as your chest rises and falls. His heart beating a little faster. He walks in, squatting in front of your desk. He knocks on it a few times and your eyes drowsily open.
“Class is gonna start soon sleeping beauty.”
You look a little dazed, you don’t even look that mad at him. His cheeks flush up at how pretty you look. His face inches away from yours. His hand shoots out to your face.
“You’re drooling.” And Oikawa giggles, completely enamored with you.
You push his hand away but he quickly holds it. But what shocks him the most is you aren’t letting go. However you snuggle back in to your arm.
“It’s my first day back. Go away.” You grumble. Which doesn’t even sound like it has any malice intent behind it.
He gulps, not used to you ever being this…normal with him. He holds your hand for a little longer, basking in the moment.
“Fine. Only because I think my heart is going to explode.” You send a glare at him but to him it’s just a meaningless pout.
“See ya later cutie.” He winks at you.
He completely fawns over that interaction for weeks. His volleyball team is tired of hearing it at this point. “Yet she still hates you.” Iwaizumi shakes his head.
“I’m getting closer! I feel it.” Oikawa clenches his fist, a glint in his eye.
“You’re so delusional.” Iwaizumi laughs and Oikawa crosses his arms.
When Oikawa is leaving school he sees you sat on the grass, sat under a tree. He immediately perks up, walking over to you.
“Hey~” He smiles and you narrow your eyes at him but they lost their full emotion. He plops down next you, your hair blows with the wind and he sighs, lovesick.
“Stop looking at me.” You pout, your cheeks heating up.
“I can’t.” He smiles and you huff, yet you look conflicted. And that worries him. He’s about to ask what’s wrong but your words cut him off.
“Why do you even like me—or keep talking to me.” You cast your eyes to the side, picking at the grass.
He’s taken aback.
“I don’t know, I like the way you make me feel.”
“You mean you like the chase?”
He groans.
“Are you sure you don’t talk to Iwa-Chan?” He throws his head back, your blank face answers his question.
“No it’s not the chase. I just, I don’t know how to explain it. I’ve never felt this way before.” He blushes but you’re still not convinced.
“You don’t even know me.” You scoff and he pouts.
“You don’t give me the chance to!”
Which he is right. You pull your knees to your chest, your red cheeks on display.
“Why do you hate me.” He asks and you answer without missing a beat.
“Because you’re cocky. You’re not humble and you get everything served to you on a silver platter. It’s irritating.”
He frowns at that because you’re completely wrong and he lets the hurt be evident on his face.
“That’s not true…” He seems small and you look at him skeptically.
“Ok maybe I do like to gloat. But I’ve earned it. I worked very hard to get where I’m at.”
It’s silent.
All that’s heard is the wind rustling the leaves above.
“Sorry.” You mumble and he blinks at you.
“Guess I misunderstood you.”
You still don’t meet his eyes but he brightens at that.
A chance.
“That’s ok. Can we start over?” He wiggles his brows and you roll your eyes. Yet a smile cracks onto your face.
“Yea, we can start over.” pt 2
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niceutossu · 6 months ago
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Serious | Oikawa x Reader
Oikawa doesn’t want to get married until you get hurt and he can’t see you. “Family only,” the nurse tells him coldly. And he tries his best to charm his way through, joking about how you two were even closer than family but the worker doesn’t budge.
“Only blood relatives?” He asks, despite knowing the answer himself.
“Or spouse.” The woman replied, avoiding eye contact as she scribbled down important information and continued ignoring his existence.
“I’m practically-“ Before he could finish, he stopped at the sight of her hand raising.
“Are you legally married?” She interjected, clearly having gone through this conversation dozens of times before. Oikawa couldn’t even blame her for the annoyance, as much as he couldn’t blame himself for trying.
“No.” He says dejectedly, shoulders falling with a deep sigh.
“Then please just wait until actual family gets here.” She states, motioning towards the waiting room as he did his best not to scowl.
Instead, he offered her a forced but friendly smile, retreating towards the uncomfortable hospital chairs. As he sat down the plastic squeaked: loud and jarring, and he grimaced. There was no point in arguing but it didn’t ease the nervousness crawling under his skin. How long had you been here? How long before he could see you? He began tapping his foot restlessly, only serving to amplify the ache in his chest.
You two were family, practically at least. You both lived together. You shared meals, inside jokes, and the kind of silence that only happens between people who really get each other. He knew how you liked your tea, the temperature you liked to have bath drawn to. Was that not family-like?
He clenched his hands, feeling his fingernails dig into his palms as memories started to surface, further sharpening the ache. He’d never bothered to bring up marriage, and you never asked. You both knew—knew what being a pro-athlete entailed. Time off spent planning was time he lost playing. He thought he had made it clear he was still yours and you were his. But now, as he sits helplessly outside your hospital room, he regrets never saying anything.
If you were really his he’d be able to see you, and if he was really yours then he’d be willing to settle down and take things seriously. He feels himself cringe as he remembers similar words Iwaizumi had spoken to him the night you two had first met.
After introductions and hours of chatting, the three of you finally settled into a comfortable rhythm. You and Iwaizumi were a surprise match—though Oikawa teased that it shouldn’t be that surprising given that he had good taste, earning him a synchronized glare from the two of you.
He felt his heart flip in his chest—he really did have good taste (and maybe a type). Later, during a moment of quiet, Oikawa excused himself to the bathroom. When he returned, he found the two of you sitting in a mutual silence.
“Hey I was gone for just a second now, what happened to all the good times?” He joked, his signature smirk only lasting a moment before being startled by the sound of the restaurant staff singing happy birthday behind him.
Turning around, he watched as they brought out a small cake with candles. His name written out in chocolate syrup and topped off with powdered sugar in the shape of his jersey number.
“I told her you weren’t worth it but she insisted.” Iwaizumi deadpanned, but the softness in his eyes betrayed him. Oikawa felt a lump form in his throat at the sight of your warm smile. The glow from the candles were nothing compared to the light in your eyes when you looked at him.
“Happy birthday Tooru.” You spoke gently, contrasting the loud cheers behind him. He felt a weird weakness wash over him, one that scared him more than the surprise singing.
You’d already celebrated with him that morning—and afternoon. He’d never thought you’d extend it to dinner. He was known to be a dramatic guy, extravagant even, but being celebrated for those things felt foreign.
Later, as you took a call nearby and he and Iwaizumi argued over the bill, his friend placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey,” Iwaizumi asked, his voice softer than usual, “you’re serious about this, right?” He didn’t need to specify; his question hung in the air, pressing gently but firmly on Oikawa’s usual bravado.
Caught off guard, Oikawa searched for a lighthearted response, but Iwaizumi’s hand didn’t move. He hesitated, then admitted quietly, “I’ve never been celebrated like this before.” He felt small under the weight of his best friend’s discerning gaze.
In all his previous relationships, he had failed to feel true intimacy, always keeping partners at an arms-length. He thought your relationship would be no different, that it’d still be on his terms albeit a bit toxic.
Except it was not like that at all.
You were like a whirlwind in his life, at first catching him off guard but now helping him build solid foundations. Between the two of you, he was definitely more needy. In the past, he would’ve said it was the other way around but you had your own undeniable magnetism. Anyone with eyes would be sure to see it too, and see right through him at the same time.
The feminine niceties he thought he had grown accustomed to had him giddy and unable to keep his hands off you. Everything you did had his heart racing and for the first time in his life, he was nervous to lose someone.
His suave streak had been brutally ended by your presence alone, having made him feel like he was worth loving again and again without even knowing. His own sweet and cheeky angel.
“If it feels good, then take it seriously.” Iwaizumi replied, his words simple but earnest. Before Oikawa could respond, you returned, bringing back your carefree nature he always craved, the same one he was starting to feel like he didn’t deserve.
Despite it being his birthday, despite feeling a certain question rise behind the heaviness in his throat after his exchange with Iwaizumi, he stayed quiet. He could’ve at least made a joke about it then, but he didn’t.
He’d told himself he was taking it, you, seriously—that you would understand without him saying it out loud. You knew him and he knew you, was that not enough? Maybe not to Iwaizumi, who also knew him maybe a bit better than he knew himself sometimes. The thought of losing you the same way he’d lost others left a knot in his stomach.
He had tried to ignore this truth: that you meant something more—not just to him, but to the people he loved. Yet every now and then, there would be reminders of just how deeply you’d embedded yourself into his life.
He started to reminisce on how he’d found out how you kept visiting his nephew after he’d left for Argentina. He’d received a photo out of the blue: you and Takeru, cheek-to-cheek, grinning at the zoo. His younger self would’ve called it impossible—Takeru, in a picture? Smiling? But there it was.
He quickly replied back with a like to the photo and a teasing message along the lines of ‘huh why what’. He’d barely hit send before you replied with another picture. This time it was of you and his older sister pressed cheek to cheek, her eyes shining with the same warmth he felt every time he looked at you.
“Sponsored trip by my favorite Oikawa <3,” you’d written.
As much as he wanted to text back a cheeky remark he felt himself falter, too focused on the way his sisters eyes shined with the same affection he felt for you. It made him feel a little funny, a little weak. The same way he felt when Iwaizumi prodded him. This was family and something else he couldn’t name quite yet.
Without even thinking he called you, needing to hear your voice and feel like he was there with you (and, of course, remind you that he’s your favorite). He’d kept his tone light, playful. But there’d been a weight in his chest, the same question hovering unasked. He knew you could tell in the way you asked him things, lingered onto his replies as if to find some deeper meaning.
Again, he could have asked. He could have made you family in name as well as in his heart, so many times. Except now, that same question haunted him, and he wasn’t sure he even deserved to ask anymore.
He shook his head as if to rid himself of any more good memories, not allowing himself to relish in you with all the regret that gnawed at him. He was so good at not biting his tongue except when it came to things that mattered. Because nothing was serious to Oikawa until it was, for better or for worse.
And he didn’t know exactly when you had become serious to him, but you had. He felt a tremor pass through him at the thought of seeing you look anything less than alive. Or not being able to make you laugh when you come home sullen anymore.
He moved around restlessly at that thought of not seeing you again. It felt wrong—horribly wrong. He took in a deep breath to calm his ragged nerves. He would see you again, even if it meant seeing you at your worst.
You had seen him at his most selfish and prideful and yet, you still reached out to him, unafraid. He wanted, no, needed to show you that he loved every single part of you the same, no matter how overwhelming because no one could be as much as he is sometimes.
All the relationships he had in high school, college, and the flings in-between had felt so stifling. The thought of making a legal commitment had always made Oikawa’s skin crawl. Except now, sitting under the sterile white lights and thinking of just how much you meant to him feels even more suffocating. You weren’t a high school girl or a fling, you were you.
And then the realization hits him hard: maybe he does wants all of it, as long as it’s with you—the highs, the lows, the commitment he once ran from. For there to never be any more regrets, to love and to cherish, all of it as long as it was with you.
But what if he was too late again?
“Tooru?” The soft sound of your voice pulls him from his spiraling thoughts. His head snaps up, eyes wide as he sees you standing there, in a hospital gown, looking a bit pale but alive. Your face is a little worn, eyes sunken in but you’re still here. You’re still you. Relief floods him, so overwhelming he barely notices the creak of the plastic chair as he rises, taking long and purposeful strides towards you.
If it feels good then take it seriously.
He stands in front of you for a moment, not knowing where to place his hands as familiar words gather in his throat the way they had so many times before. Except he doesn’t let himself hold back—not this time. He’d held onto these words for too long, out of fear or pride, whatever it was, it didn’t matter now.
Everything is clear as he sinks down on one knee, eyes locked on yours as he finally gives in to what he’s always wanted: you.
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kitasuno · 9 months ago
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i'll keep every promise (if it's a promise with you) | oikawa tooru x reader
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oikawa tooru has a bad habit of breaking promises and running from his first love. or: the four times oikawa breaks his promises and the one time he keeps one
( a / n ) - oh my god this is my magnum opus... my baby.. its a little bit of angst and a little bit of fluff and a little slice of life. u go through ages 6 to 28 LMFAO. iwaizumi + you + oikawa were such a fun trio to write for and i hope u guys enjoy !!
gn! reader | 2k words | happy birthday OIKAWA
Oikawa Tooru has a guilty conscience and a bad habit of breaking his promises. 
For every promise made and every promise broken, Tooru repents: 200 yen slid in a saisen-bako, a ninety degree bow, two wishes at a shrine. An offering to counter every promise he breaks, ample water to wash away his sins, and apologies written on wood.
 ( Iwaizumi has made the grand suggestion of: Maybe not breaking your promises? on several occasions, but Tooru can’t help it. ) 
He’s broken four promises and made eight wishes so far: four on blue Tanzaku and four atop Ema boards, followed with a prayer and an offering if the promise broken was particularly heinous or particularly his fault. 
He breaks his first promise at six years old– one made with you and Iwaizumi when the three of you were four and freshly neighbors. It was Tooru’s birthday, and he had promised this: 
I swear that I will take us all to the Ryokan before I turn six.
It’s a small promise: one that neither you nor Hajime had expected him to follow through with. But Tooru believed it, and Tooru had tried. He takes every single chore and odd job in the Oikawa household, scraping together a two-year-old Ryokan trust fund with mismatched coins and crumpled bills. He saves his allowances and puts everything in a glass jar next to his bed, and dreams.
Two Julys pass. Oikawa blows out four candles and then five, the jar gets bigger, you start Elementary school, and you and Hajime forget about the Ryokan. And then, on the third July, when Tooru turns six, you and Iwaizumi find Tooru mumbling about a broken promise— courtesy of his failure to take the three of you on an all inclusive trip to that Snow Monkey Ryokan that Iwaizumi wanted to go to. 
So he apologizes through prayers at a shrine and two wishes under a red Torii gate. It’s a thirty five stair climb to the neighborhood shrine: Hajime and Tooru race up and you come last, but the view is gorgeous and Tooru feels considerably less guilty.
It is 100 yen for each wish on a colored paper strip. Hajime says they’re called Tanzaku. Hajime drops one coin, Tooru drops four, you drop two. Seven thunks, four wishes. 
Tooru gets the honor of tying your tanzaku on bamboo branches as the tallest of your trio, and with it, the honor of reading your wishes.
Iwaizumi’s wish is messy and scrawled on bright red— Tooru tells him to Please work on your handwriting, but it’s legible and all well wishes for volleyball and you and Oikawa and cicadas.
Tooru’s got two wishes— a cyan one and a turquoise one, but he only lets you and Hajime read the cyan one. His cyan one is a little neater than Iwaizumi’s and reads:
Sorry I couldn’t take us to the Monkey Ryokan. 
He hangs the red one on his tippy-toes. Cyan next. Hajime cheers a little when Tooru hangs turquoise next to your pink one, and then asks: 
“Whaddya need two wishes for anyways?” 
He shrugs. 
“Guilty conscience, maybe?”
You’re thirteen when Tooru promises that he is going to ask you out in two years. Tooru is not allowed to date until he’s in high school, so he tells you under a blanket of stars that when the two of you are a little older, he will ask you out properly and maybe take you on a date. 
He walks you to school every morning. Hajime comes too, but the pink skies before the sun rises are for you and Tooru. Moments before you make it to Iwaizumi’s block are moments that Tooru gives you his scarf, and then his gloves, and when the wind bites at your cheeks too hard his jacket is draped over your shoulders. On rainy days, Tooru holds the umbrella and laughs as your fingers brush and your cheeks flush. Some mornings he brings you toast: and tells you in hushed whispers to eat it before Iwa-Chan sees. 
Oikawa and Iwaizumi walk you home after cram school and volleyball practice. Hajime’s house is first— so Iwaizumi bows first, heads back inside first, waves goodnight first. When the door closes and the light turns on, the black sky and twinkling stars are for you and Tooru. He always says Good Night saccharine sweet with a smile like the sun that makes you feel like you really can’t wait to turn fifteen. 
Oikawa blows out fourteen candles. The three of you graduate in blue and walk home like usual. Summer passes, another July goes by, Oikawa blows out fifteen candles, and high school starts.
You learn several things in your first year at high school: you really like the student council, Hajime is actually pretty smart, and Tooru is afraid of commitment. 
Tooru is popular: he is athletic and tall and the Volleyball Club’s golden first year. He smiles at the girls in his class, he slings arms around their shoulders, he winks when he passes by the student council room, and he preens a little and shines a lot.
Oikawa is fifteen when he goes on his first date with a girl from another school: and when he tells you and Iwaizumi after he gets home, he plays dumb as Hajime gives him a look and takes you home, overhearing Iwaizumi’s apologies and your crestfallen voice as you say something about a promise.
Oikawa’s chest hurts that night so he walks to the shrine with 200 yen in his pocket and a sorry scrawled on two pieces of colored Tanzaku. 
Oikawa turns sixteen and goes to the shrine again. 
This time, it’s a broken promise with a girl in his class. She was popular– she smelled like cotton candy and reminded Tooru of strawberries and daisies, so when she asked Tooru out, he had said Sure, and he had smiled like she was the sun. 
But he’s a bad boyfriend– a terrible boyfriend– because he’s only there when it’s convenient and he ditches her for volleyball practice and maybe sometimes he catches himself thinking about a certain childhood friend when she holds his hand and buys him milk bread at lunch. 
She was sweet and she was terribly pretty, but he doesn’t feel anything when she kisses him or when she rests her head on his shoulder.
Iwaizumi asks him what he’s running from after practice one day. Tooru knows Iwaizumi is asking why he is running from you. 
Tooru is a little scared of how you make him feel too much. Oikawa likes being in control and Oikawa likes stability, so when he realizes that his heart thumps erratically whenever you’re around and he finds himself all consumed with thoughts of you and a burning desire to please you; he rejects and refrains. And runs.
His girlfriend dumps him after a few months. Tooru says sorry, removes her phone contact, and faintly remembers a promise he made with her four weeks ago. 
I swear I’m not in love with someone else. 
from: tooru (23:20) shrine time!!! ٩(◕‿◕。)۶
from: hajime (23:21) You broke another promise?? Ur a piece of shit lol
from: tooru (23:22) iwaaa chan U ̄ー ̄U  ur so mean !
from: you (23:24) bro . don’t tell me it was about ur ex ur a manwhore !!!!
from: hajime (23:25) Average Shittykawa moment
from: tooru (23:25) i can’t help it !! (✿ ♥‿♥)  everyone wants a piece of me !!! ill pick u guys up and we’ll go to the shrine and ramen after plsss ☆
from: hajime (23:26) Ur treat?
from: tooru (23:27) iwa-chan’s treat !! i’m going through a nasty breakup, remember ? \_( ◉ 3 ◉ )_/¯
from: you (23:29) hajime we know his address we can burn his room down
from: tooru (23:30) OK FINE my treat! it’s on me!!! everyone say thank you tooru !!!
from: hajime (23:31) thank you tooooruuu chan (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧
tooru and y/n reacted with: Scared !
from: tooru (23:32) um please don’t do that ever again
Oikawa’s fourth promise is one to himself and one to Seijoh. 
We will make it to Nationals. 
He doesn’t leave his room for a week when he breaks it. He’s inconsolable. He says he’s sick: he’s got a bad fever, it’s contagious, he’s bedridden, he’s fine. But the lights are never on in his room, his curtains are always drawn, and you know that Tooru devoted everything for a chance and a dream and a volleyball. 
He comes to you first. He’s standing in your doorway and there are bags under his eyes and he says, Hi, and then, I’m fine. He tries for a smile— and then you give him a look, and suddenly he’s in your arms and sobbing. 
He cries for two hours. Tooru ugly cries– his chest racks when he sobs and his arms are tight around you and digging into your back. Oikawa Tooru is not weak: but he is not a prodigy.  
He falls asleep in your bed with his head in your lap and your hands in his hair, but his eyebrows are furrowed and he’s shifting a lot and he’s probably having a nightmare. You call Hajime before gently shaking Tooru awake. 
He blinks up at you— all puffy eyes and tousled hair and swollen cheeks, but he sees you and he softens.
“Wanna go to the shrine?”
Iwaizumi still grumbles the whole way up the thirty five steps, but he’s quiet as Oikawa slips two coins into the saizen-bako. Hajime wraps an arm around your shoulder as the coins rattle in the box and you know he’s upset too— his hands are slightly shaking and he keeps sniffing. Nationals might have been Oikawa’s dream but Iwaizumi was also a dreamer, and sure, Oikawa was going to go, but they were going to go together.
Tooru hangs two Ema boards and for the first time, he bows at the Honden. Two claps. Head down and hands together as he prays. Iwaizumi joins him: and you watch as Oikawa apologizes to him and Hajime shakes his head- because it was Hajime’s promise too. 
Oikawa is twenty-eight and on a plane when he finally keeps his first promise. 
It’s a small promise: but a promise nonetheless, one that he made before he left for Argentina. He tells you he loves you at the airport but he has his boarding pass in one hand and his passport in the other. And you tell him you love him too, but also that he’s being unfair, and no you won’t go out with him. And Oikawa knew you would say that, but he still finds himself making a promise– a promise you laugh at because Oikawa Tooru never keeps his promises.
If we’re still single in ten years, I’m going to find you, and I’m going to ask you out. 
You cry, and Tooru wraps his arms around you and cries too— and then Iwaizumi’s there, and Iwaizumi’s crying, and you don’t know which part of you is Oikawa or Iwaizumi. Oikawa leaves for Argentina with a heavy heart but a hunger for the future. 
In the ten years that pass he plays a lot of volleyball. He tans a lot. He learns some Spanish. He tries beach volleyball. And then, he buys a plane ticket on his birthday. 
from: y/n (21:12) happy birthday tooru !! me n hajime r having an honorary drink for u. hope ur having fun in argentina!!! hajime and i say te amo !!!!
from: tooru (21:15) i’d like a hot sake plssss thank u!!! ( ˙▿˙ )
from: y/n (21:15) LMFAO. no. me and haji r drinking ASAHI DRRRRRRYYYYYYYY for u bro also hajime got BUFF wat the hell hope ur tanning good in argentina 
from: tooru (21:16) well tell BUFF iwa chan that ill be there in 5 and i want a HOT SAKE and also YES i tanned good SO EYES OFF IWAIZUMI
from: y/n (21:17) ? what? ur funny lol … TOORU?
Tooru is twenty eight and might retire soon. Thirty five stairs is too many to climb and keeping promises is far more fun than breaking them. So he taps your shoulder, hands Iwaizumi your bouquet, and takes your cheeks in his palms to tilt your chin over. 
“Hi!” He says. 
 Tooru bends down to kiss you. 
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takes1 · 3 months ago
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Hiii, I love all ur fics sm! Ur literally so talented omgg
I wanted to request a fic where Oikawa and short/academically inclined reader are friends with benefits. I think it would be fun to see them get jealous and tiptoe around their feelings for each other since they don’t wanna ruin what they have. Can it also be nsfw and could u add some angst pls? Thank youu!
f*cking jealous!oikawa in secret
hi! thank you so much!! hope this interpretation is alright!
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warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI
details. fem!reader / short!reader / jealous!oikawa / popular x loser trope / jock x nerd trope / tutor!reader / subby-switch!oikawa / switch!reader / oikawa with a nerd fetish / needy!oikawa towards the end / kind of hate fucking? / oikawa being mean / riding / implied oral / fluff, angst, and smut / reader with glasses / 1.8k words
links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. my imagines
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"You're sooo lucky to tutor him, (Y/n),"
Your hopeless friend sighed, scrolling through Oikawa's Instagram for the upteenth time.
"I'd give anything to spend that much time alone with him."
It was a little creepy, but you loved her. Other girls fawning over your secret fuck-buddy was something you had to -begrudgingly- get used to. It pained you more when it was somebody so close, but nothing was worth coming clean about it.
The last thing you needed during senior year was a target on your back.
"Oh, he's such a prick!" You wave her off and grab your drink from the café counter with a smaller, pleasant, 'Thank you.'
The table was more of a C-curved booth that your group had to shimmy into. The shape made it hard to get in and out of, rather serving as an ultra-cozy prison to focus on your studies, your caffeine, and your snacks.
As a way of not letting you off the hook so easily- your friends cracked open their notes, laptops, textbooks, while entertaining the 'absurd' idea that any of you could actually date Johsai's least eligible bachelor.
A bunch of star-students with decorated academic achievements was the only impressive thing about the patrons at your favorite, quiet, coffee house. With- maybe-- the exception of money in eyeglass prescriptions, or luxurious stationery that decorated the table.
Your voice stood as the most displeased, the most troubled, of the discussion. You flipped through the chapters, halfway forgetting what page you needed to be on, because you got caught up in his shortcomings.
"He doesn't listen- he takes my hours away from people who might actually need it- he's, obviously, got the biggest ego I've ever seen--, Oh- hold up."
It was a struggle to flip to your page and rummage around your pocket for your buzzing phone.
"Well, I'm glad somebody's got some common sense-," Was the only guy in your group, disgruntled at all the Oikawa-talk.
Oikawa's name flashed across your screen. Your body seized and you hugged it to your chest.
"Woah!"
"You good?"
"I'm just--gonna take this outside," You cleared your throat and sank all the way to the floor, crawling over shoes and bags from under the table to get far away from your friends.
It was on the second-to-last ring by the time you hurried outside. You hated him for many things, but the wind picked up, spraying a chilly mist all over your clothes, and you couldn't help but associate him with the feeling. Your hoodie was still inside, forgotten in your haste.
"What? I'm busy right now." You spat, shivering already.
"Don't fog your glasses up, princess."
His easy, light tone particularly bothered you. You groaned.
"Get to the point, pretty boy, I'm busy--,"
"I know. I just called to say you should stop talking about me. Reads as a bit... obsessive, don't you think?"
The breath you took to poke a hole in his 'obsessive' argument gave way to nothing- except a silent realization.
"You're- where are you?"
You squinted at the dark window, but it was one-way.
Oikawa watched you turn to the parking lot, smirking, from inside the cafe.
He sighed, a real airy, fake one; the one he knew you loved to hear from him in bed.
His voice was lower, closer to the receiver. "I thought you said you were busy?"
The audacity to call you obsessive, mixing with the adrenaline his sudden proximity shot into your system. You pressed 'end call.'
When you re-entered the cafe, you spotted him immediately. He was walking back to his booth, one away from yours, from the restrooms. Though you both saw each other, there was hardly an indication that you knew one another at all, thanks to so much practice.
It was, still, hard to watch him slide into a seat right next to some other girl.
So, he heard you talking shit about him while on a date, then left her to go call you? You rejoined your booth, and spared a mean glance over at him, like the absolute garbage he was. He returned it with lesser intensity.
-
You'd think, with his cock in your hand, he wouldn't bring up the events of that morning. It put him in a less-than ideal position.
"Y'knoww,"
He hadn't said anything yet, but your eyes were rolling. Used to the attitude, and equipped with a firm point to make, he continued:
"You should ditch- ahh, that little loser in your little friend group."
A little roll of your hips had him wincing- spreading the slickness all across his dick, from all the work he had put in, already.
You cocked your head at him, "Oh, yeah?"
Oikawa's eyes rolled back into his skull, a groan at how hot you looked, grinding on him. You were his perfect, nerdy little secret. He specifically wanted you to keep your glasses on today. It was a thing. You didn't understand it in its entirety, but it likely had a connection to the reason why he opted for a lowkey arrangement.
"And you should ditch that shallow whore--,"
"Oh my god!" He gasped, surprised to hear such a thing uttered from your mouth, "Fuuuck you're so jealous-!"
"Me?"
It was completely unfair and utter bullshit that he acted like his jealousy was nonexistent. To him, only you could get out of your pay grade. He pretended to forget that the only reason you were fucking multiple times a week was because he 'needed' you so bad. You felt a little exploited.
"That's so hot-aughhh!"
His big, strong hands were forcing your cunt against his slippery, thick cock, since you wouldn't move quite right.
"M-mmh-! Tha-t's-," You struggled, voice breaking, hands against his muscular chest, "Not- mh, fair."
Your textbooks, his assignment due in 40 minutes, were neglected on the floor across his bedroom. Your tutoring was basically roleplay. It turned him on as soon as you got to talking about the relevant class material, telling him that the work he had already done was wrong.
It turned you on too, to an extent. You liked that you got him stiff without trying, without touching. You loved when he pretended like he wasn't, but bounced his leg right next to yours, cleared his throat before every response, got caught staring like some depraved creature.
You were exactly his type. He was the hottest guy you'd ever met. Something had to give.
"I- ah, don't wanna--," He fucked you hard, like you had a ring on your finger, "See you talk to that loser again."
He couldn't stand the threat of being second place. A guy with such a precious ego needed to feel like you wouldn't leave him. While your social structure may have harbored the suggestion that this would be the case, it wasn't an accurate representation of your feelings.
The whimper lacing his voice grew as you placed a firm hand around his throat.
"Don't- date- other girls." You threatened through gritted teeth and bitten-back moan.
It was just your luck that the most ridiculous peacock of a man would have such a great dick, give you such great head, that you couldn't live and let this fucked-up situationship die. The timer of the semester ticked away, standing as an informal end to it, so neither of you had the gall to cut things off before you needed to.
He whined under your touch, bottoming out hard, keeping himself as deep as he could get.
The lonely bastard draped his arms around you and pulled you close.
"Mmh- you know I gotta- h-ah, keep up appearances for us, princess," His quiet mutter, spilled across your shoulder, forced a shiver down your spine.
His sheets smelled just like him.
You loosened your grip and decided to play with his soft, lush locks, taking in his scent, his touch- that feeling. Like you were his, but not in some twisted, shameful way.
You wanted one of his shirts but it wasn't that simple.
For the moment, you chased the dream, while he was still gentle and peppering you in kisses.
Maybe in some perfect world, he would let go of his status, be a little less weird about your intelligence, and you could have a boyfriend instead of a glorified dildo.
He sounded close, so you fucked him back, hand back on his throat; you wondered how many girls would be disappointed to know that Oikawa Tohru didn't last very long in bed.
"You wanna cum, pretty boy?"
A wince at your rough, loaded kiss. His grip was iron, his strength speaking enough for how mute you got him.
It was so quiet, so pitiful: "Pl-ease,"
God, he looked so cute all fucked-out. He only looked at you like that. Like he never wanted you to leave, like he couldn't breathe without you around him, like you weren't just friends with benefits.
Too bad you were just some freaky nerd-fetish.
He pulled out and you sat, buzzed, on his drained cock, more than satisfied with the sight of cum all over his stomach.
When you pushed up your fallen glasses, his cock twitched accordingly and reminded you of the only reason you existed to him at all.
Kissing, cleaning up, cuddling, all of the winding down was still commonplace between you. He wanted attention, you wanted time to chill before you had to go home. He even made it difficult to get dressed and out the door.
Today, he kept his arms around your waist when you attempted to get up, after 20 minutes of cuddling.
"Pleaaase stay," He whined, unable to hold you as firm as he wanted for fear he would hurt you.
You smiled.
"I need to study more tonight."
"Study here!" He pouted.
Right. Then this would happen all over again- because as soon as he would see a pencil between your teeth, he'd try to replace it with his cock.
"Really study," You pried his fingers off and got dressed.
He watched for a time, but needed to assert himself more in order to feel like he wasn't useless, or forgettable. He joined to get dressed, too, and kept a close eye on your seemingly unbothered expression.
"I'm sorry for cursing at you."
It was so unimportant that you had no idea what he was talking about.
"It's okay," Rolled off your tongue, fast.
Oikawa got twitchy. His sly attempts at dragging out your departure slipped through his fingers like sand.
"Let me help you with that," His unprompted kiss to your forehead, along with his gentle gathering of your things, left you a bit dazed.
You fixed your hair- hesitant to look at him.
"Thank you."
He insisted, like usual, to walk you home. You sighed and posed the same argument, the way you had for the past month. People would notice if you were together in any capacity. Rumors would start.
When he was done packing your books up, he was touchier, and hung over you like a cat rubbing itself all over your ankles as you walked to the door.
You rationalized that it had to be your glasses. It gave him some sort of kick. He barely let you out of his bedroom, let alone his house.
You forgot to ask for a shirt, but... maybe next time?
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☆VIP☆
@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco
my masterlist. more haikyuu. (new) my imagines.
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plagalkey · 10 months ago
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F1 AU flirting ✌️
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renardiererin · 12 days ago
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[based on this post by @cvnt4him] 
the lighting in your bedroom is dim, casting just a faint orange glow across the already flushed cheeks of the man below you. you were straddling his lap, thighs on either side of his hips, lightly rocking your hips out of nothing more than subconscious will, and a pulse between his legs throbbing directly against your core. one of your hands in his hair and the other on his bicep. kageyama has always been sensitive. his whole body. every little tug on the roots of his hair gets his breath to shake a little bit more. his hands are sliding down from your waist to your hips to your ass in a continuous rotation. your tits are flush against his chest as you lay atop his abdomen, his breath quick and unstable in your ear as you bury your head further into the crevice of his neck. 
the skin is bitten red and raw, purple stains across his flesh, slick and wet with your spit. you’re letting out soft moans against the skin your mouth is sucking on as he jerks his hips up into yours at the way your tongue feels on his neck. you pull away to look at him, his eyes unwaveringly locked on yours, unblinking, the only steady thing about his body currently. there’s a silence between the two of you, breathing shaking and heavy as you hold eye contact. slowly, tobio’s head moves in towards yours, your eyes fluttering shut in preparation for a kiss, and his head angled down, rubbing his tongue delicately up your neck and to your jaw. he bites down softly on the flesh of your neck now, his hold on your hip only tightening the more he buried his head in your skin. his other hand slides up your waist and below your shirt, finding your breasts as he rolls your nipple between the pads of his fingers. you let out another whine, throwing your head back, making him pinch a little harder at the access he’d just gained. his hand slithers out of your shirt and back to cup your ass. you tug at the hem of his t shirt and he happily assists in its removal. you move yourself back over and shift slightly lower, locking your lips against the skin around his collarbone, littering more hickeys across his pristine skin. his mind so hazy from the uncontrollable lust you’ve instilled in him, he reaches his fingers gently down your stomach, playing with the band of your pajama shorts. you lift your hips slightly for him to slide them off and he does just that, his touch following up the inside of your thigh back to the heat radiating off of your pussy. he moves criminally too slowly as he reaches to pull the strings down your hips, the cloth sticking to the wet of your core as he peels them down your legs. he runs a fingertip gently up your slit, circling the bud of your clit gently and pressing down ever so slightly when you arch your back and let out a muffled moan against his chest at his touch. every shift of your hips has your tits bouncing against him ever so slightly, and god he can’t stop daydreaming about putting them in his mouth. next time, he will. for now, though, he’ll drag his fingers to your hole, poking just the tip of his finger into you and curling it ever so slightly as you mewl against him. it’s not long before he’s pulling himself out of his sweatpants, rock hard and leaking, and pushing himself slowly into your dripping cunt. he’s thrusting up into you as you grind yourself down, his finger circling your clit with your mouth still stuck to his skin. “tobio,” you whine, and it’s not long before he’s pumping hot seed into your walls and you’re flooding against him. your tongue runs down his neck and you collapse in the silence of your heavy breathing. you should give him hickeys more often. 
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katyarn · 6 months ago
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HAIKYUU CHARACTERS IGNORING YOU AFTER AN ARGUMENT
CHARACTERS: Tsukishima, Oikawa
SYNOPSIS: after a long day all you want to do is come home to your boyfriend, little did you know they've had a pretty shitty day and were ready to make it your problem
CONTENT WARNINGS: Angst!!, comfort, swearing, name calling (slut, bitch), reader feels insecure about their weight (Oikawa)
Author's note; Feel free to request anything you want I'm desperate to write anything. This is a college AU but feel free to consider it whatever you'd like I don't really care. Also gave a little sneak peak for my next post about Haikyuu College AU Major headcanons
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TSUKISHIMA Has been acting a bit strange recently, well more than usual at least. You've been together since freshman year of high school, so it really should come to no surprise that he'd be changing, you're growing together after all.
However, ever since you entered your first year of college he's been distant and unbothered with you, every day after class he'd come home eat dinner and lock himself in an office for hours on end.
You could understand he was busy, after all being an anthropology major must be demanding but you couldn't help but feel left out, so you brought it up when you came home.
you carefully approached your lover's office knocking on the door, your hands were shaking against the hard wood. You were nervous to say the least but this has been going for way too long.
Tsukishima swung open the door with a bored look on his face, he was pissed but that wouldn't stop you.
"we need to talk" you said a slight shake in your voice, it was stern nonetheless but that wouldn't last long when you felt his piercing gaze, he looked even more pissed, like he was just waiting to start an argument with someone.
Well, that wouldn't even matter anymore because here you were, holding back tears as your lover was lashing out at you, calling you 'clingy' and 'bothersome'.
"do you even know how much of a bitch you've been?" he said approaching you slowly as he leaned down mockingly.
You were squeezing your fist looking at him in disbelief, this wasn't the Tsukishima you fell for. "really? your girlfriend wanting to spend more than fifteen minutes a week with you is being a bitch?"
He scoffs standing up straight before walking past you, shoving your shoulder in the process as he leaves the apartment with a loud slam of the door leaving you flinching alone in the middle of your apartment.
you really didn't know what was going on with him but you were determined to resolve it once he came back home,
well, that wasn't much of an option anymore because the moment Tsukishima came home you rushed over to him begging to resolve the argument however you were met with silence. it was clearly a game to him as well, 'see how long he can ignore you before you break.
You stood once again in disbelief for the third time this day as your lover walked right past you without uttering a word, you could almost feel your eye twitch.
You weren't going to let yourself get too beat up though, you had classes too after all and you wouldn't let yourself get distracted by a petty argument so you kept yourself busy, completing assignments, studying anything that could keep your mind off the argument. Plus, Tsukishima never stayed mad for long, he'll most likely have forgotten when you guys went to bed.
well that's you thought , although you went to bed Tsukishima was nowhere to be seen, you waited and waited until you lost your patience walking down the stairs to the living room where you were met with a sleeping Tsukishima on the couch, your heart was clenching, he's never done this.
You found your way back up to the bedroom filled with guilt, were you really in the wrong? all you really wanted was to spend time with him. Well maybe he would forget about it in the morning you thought as you drifted off to sleep.
In the morning you made your way to the kitchen thinking you'll make some breakfast and you'd eat with your boyfriend like you would each morning but once you set the table Tsukishima only looked at his plate with a raised 'brow giving you an unimpressed look before making his own breakfast.
Just how many times was he going to leave you in disbelief?? you stood there speechless as he left for class with his toast, he didn't even put in the effort of eating with you.
His ignorance wouldn't stop after coming home though, whatever you tried he wouldn't break.
You had enough, you stood in front of him as he sat on the couch, he groaned moving positions so he could see the TV "Just how long are you going to ignore me??" you snapped.
silence
You scoffed and walked away making your way to your room, maybe you needed some space, plus, you don't think you could handle anymore of this treatment. You stuffed a bag with clothes and essentials feeling yourself breaking down as you stumbled out of the room and past him.
"Goodbye, Tsukishima." is the only thing you muttered before slamming the door.
'what?' he thought as he registered what just happened before hastily jumping off the couch and swinging the door open,
you were gone.
this time it was him who stood alone in disbelief, he searched for you, asked your friends but you were nowhere to be seen.
He went home with a wave of guilt washing over him, he called you, texted you but no response.
He sat on the couch alone with his thoughts 'did he lose you?' 'it was really bound to happen with how he was' he though he looked over to the clock 6 AM. 'where were you??'
creak
his head snapped back 'did you come back??' And there you were, standing in the door giving him an unbothered look, he always has so why can't you?
He rushed over to you "where the fuck have you been?" you looked into his eyes meeting him with silence. He softened realizing what was happening before hugging you. You flinched to his touch, did Tsukishima just hug you?? not once in the 4 years of dating has he hugged you, he's held your hand, he's played with your hair, draped his arm around you shoulder but he's never hugged you.
" 'm so sorry baby." what.
you stood there in confusion awkwardly putting your arms around hi- I'm sorry are you hallucinating or did the words 'I'm sorry' just come out of his mouth..
"it's fine. Just, don't do it again." You say snapping out of it as you pulled away "and don't call me a bitch ever again. emphasizing every word with a hit on his chest.
"I won't baby, 'promise." he says with a groan clutching his chest as you smiled at him giving him a peck on his kiss bitten lips before walking away to the kitchen leaving him starring at you as if you'd vanish, you turn to look at him with a confused face "what are you waiting for, you owe me dinner."
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OIKAWA Has always been pretty popular with the ladies, it really isn’t surprising at all considering how charismatic he was. You knew all of that even before you decided to go out with mister popular.
He was handsome, that was undeniable but you just couldn't stand his fan girls anymore, how they touched him, flirting shamelessly while you were RIGHT THERE. oh, but the worst part? Oikawa flirted back, that's where you drew the line, dragging him home to your apartment more frustrated than ever.
But once you started telling him it made you uncomfortable he had the audacity to call you what? 'selfish' and 'insecure'. started going on and on about how you were the same with men apparently, calling you a 'slut' and also- wait what?
...
you sat there dumfounded, what did he just call you?
"excuse me?" you whispered, voice cracking. he's never insulted you before, he just scoffed pushing past you to grab his keys and his volleyball before leaving your apartment.
You were enraged, he just called you a slut and walked out? you should be the one walking out you thought as you found your way to the kitchen with furrowed brows.
If it was anyone other than Oikawa you would have been out of there in an instant but he was the love of your life, plus, it was a first offense right? and you believed every argument can be resolved. You just couldn't lose him.
you sighed picking out a pack of chips from the cupboard before halting 'did he find you unattractive?' maybe he flirted back because he didn't love you anymore? all those girls looked so much better than you did, did you gain weight??
your mind was racing before hearing the door open, oikawa waked in giving you an empty look before cocking his brow at the sight of the chips
oh God
You find yourself putting the chips back before approaching him "Oikawa? what is up with you today?" you say voice laced with worry he rolls his eyes before plopping on the couch
did he just ignore you? you start shaking your head at him before you find your way to your shared room looking in the mirror, playing with the fat of your stomach and thighs feeling yourself unconsciously start breaking down.
He gets up from the couch leaving to the bathroom, passing your room, while his girlfriend was- uh..
what the fuck is she doing he thought confused before letting it go and continuing over to bathroom.
He was mad at you but he was still your boyfriend so as he did every night he made you both diner setting your plate on the table but you didn't come down, he waited before deciding he was just going to eat on his own you'd come down eventually he though but a couple hours passed and you still weren't there.
He gets off the couch making his way into your shared room, panic washing over him when he sees your pretty face soiled with tears on the floor, he rushes over to you "baby what's wrong??" he says petting your hair.
You hide your face shaking your head in embarrassment "why didn't you come down for dinner" you rub your eyes looking around the room to avoid eye contact with him, he turns your face towards him eyes boring into yours as he plants a kiss on your lips "I'm sorry for saying all those horrible things, baby. I was being an asshole, please forgive me"
you chewed on the inside of your cheek for a moment before finally speaking "do you find me unattractive? or- or well fat.." you asked uncertainty laced in your voice
he looked at you in shock flicking between your eyes looking for a sign you were joking "what? baby God no, you're the prettiest girl I've ever met- why would you even think that?"
you sighed "it's just that- you know all those fangirls are so much prettier and it just seems like you don't like me anymore"
he sighs pulling you into a hug "I'm so sorry for making you feel like this baby I promise I'll never do it again please just forgive me, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever met"
You smile up at him tears prickling in your eyes as you let out a giggle giving him a peck on the lips. He smiles back at you throwing you over his shoulder "hey!! put me down" you giggle trying to wiggle out of his grasp.
"No way, I'm spoon feeding you, you haven't eaten all day.
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PS; if you ever feel insecure about your weight never resort to starvation, you're beautiful just the way you are as long as you're healthy.
https://anad.org/get-help/eating-disorders-helpline/
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429 notes · View notes
ghost-recs · 1 year ago
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Oikawa SMAU Rec
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nonsense by @idlerin
synopsis: university student, chaotic friend group, and up and coming actor/model oikawa tooru as your secret ex, what could go wrong?
the perfect combination of angst, cuteness, and humor that left me a puddle for oikawa tooru (i highly recommend the playlist too, pls pls).
syrup by @eggyrocks
synopsis: oikawa, to put it bluntly, is love sick. unfortunately, there is a bit of an obstacle in the way of his happy ever after with you...
lots of crack and chaos. humor that has me going.
pose for me by @authentictiramis
synopsis: vlogging au where two groups decide to collab, simping ensues.
short and sweet, full of fluff and some humor. cute!
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cr4yolaas · 1 year ago
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second best — iwaizumi hajime
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part 2 here !
notes: based off of second best by laufey <3 hope u enjoy!
tags: fluff → angst, timeskip, insecurity / jealousy (reader), losing feelings (iwaizumi), swearing, best friend oikawa, arguments / yelling, iwaizumi is mean and delusional
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it was a tuesday. school had ended a handful of hours ago, and you had no homework. the sun was setting quicker than it regularly did, coating your bedroom in a warm gold and casting rays of light upon your shoulders. hajime sat beside you, his laptop propped up on your table.
he bit his nails frantically (a habit you had always scolded him for) and repeatedly reloaded the page. “why won’t it just load…” he groaned, his brows furrowed and a scowl embedded on his lips. albeit his angered expression, he was more frightened than anything. that you knew.
“be patient, haji. you’re gonna break the keys,” you quipped, despite being just as anxious as him.
a new screen appeared with the eighty ninth refresh. in bold letters, congratulations! splayed itself onto hajime’s laptop, followed by an unnecessarily long message detailing his next steps. before you could react, the boy had thrown himself onto you, his arms tightening around your frame as he sobbed uncontrollably. his joy radiated.
“you- you did it!” you exclaimed, returning his hug. you nearly laughed at his face — tear-soaked, distraught, a far cry from the stoicism he wore. “i’m so proud of you, haji.”
he stumbled over his words as he struggled to regain his composure. the amalgamation of emotion was evident on his features; glee engraved itself on his cheeks, shock poured out of his eyes, excitement spilled from the cracks between his teeth. not once did he let go of you, as if fearful that he would face a different reality if he did so. “i know i’m going to be super far away, but- but promise me you’ll wait for me. please.” hajime held both of your hands in his. “i’ll make you proud, and then i’ll come back. okay?”
you beamed at him. “okay. i promise.”
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hajime’s head rested on your shoulder, his grip on his store-bought onigiri loose — a tell-tale sign of his exhaustion.
the large LED clock on the wall read 5 am. he had stressed that he get to the airport as early as possible, seemingly prepared for the journey, and yet, here he lay, slumped against a plastic chair.
you took the food out of his hand and packed it into his carry-on, careful not to disturb his rest. he arose regardless. “shit,” he mumbled, clearly riddled with sleep. “what time is it?”
“you still have two hours until your flight, hajime,” you laughed. “relax. i wouldn’t let you be late.”
he muttered a lighthearted insult that didn’t quite make sense and leaned against you once more. a warm silence washed over you both before he spoke again. “i’m scared,” he whispered.
you didn’t look at him, in fear that you would get too emotional. instead, you fidgeted with his hand, your thumb ghosting over his calloused skin. “scared of what?”
“everything.”
“you know that’s not an answer, dumbass.”
he sighed. “i’m going to be leaving you all alone. not just you, but everyone i know. everything i know. and, who knows — what if things don’t go as planned?”
you hummed softly before responding, “that’s how growth is, haji. if you stay here, it’s unlikely that you’ll reach anything new. but if you go there — the college you’ve been dreaming about for ages — you’ll find new heights to reach. and i’ll be here for all of it. well, not physically, but you understand.”
hajime began to tremble against you. muffled cries escaped his lips, his grip on your hand tightening as the announcement for him to depart rung over the speakers. “i’m sorry, my love. i’ll come back for you, pinky promise.”
you finally looked at him — a mistake on your part. his anguish made your heart ache, and you began to mirror him almost instantly.
you helped him stand up and carry his bags to the line before placing a delicate kiss to his lips. “be safe, ha-“
hajime pulled you towards him and pressed his lips to yours, however, with far more desperation. the thud of his bag against the floor seemed to echo as his hands gripped your sides. he pulled away, his face comically tearful, before muttering an “i love you” against your forehead.
you waved him off as he boarded the plane, your heart sinking to the depths of your lungs, restricting your ability to breathe as you started to sob into your arms.
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“so, this is my dorm…” a deep voice rung out from your phone. “all of my roommates are out right now, so i have the whole place to myself. anyways, look- i brought some of our polaroids and hung them above my desk.” hajime flipped his camera and slowly panned it across his wall, demonstrating various photographs hanging from a shelf.
“it’s super cute, haji. what else is there?”
he continued to show you around the living area and the kitchen, his excitement evident despite your inability to actually see his face.
while it was the midst of a bright afternoon where he was, sleep was creeping up on you, as you had stayed up late into the night to wait for this call. it had been several months since he had officially begun classes at UCI, but adjusting was reasonably difficult, giving him no time to sufficiently update you. but now, he had carved a little space into his schedule to “spend time with you” (as he called it).
“oh, by the way — i ran into ushijima wakatoshi here, y’know, the really tall one from shiratorizawa. it was pretty interesting. i didn’t really expect to see him there.” he continued to ramble on while you listened as intently as you could with your phone propped up on your table. your eyes were growing heavier, the words fading in and out. hajime’s exclamation roused you from your near slumber. “wait, it’s super late there right now, isn’t it? i’m so sorry, baby, i completely forgot. you’re probably really tired. umm, i’m not sure if i have time to call you tomorrow, but i’ll try my best.”
you mumbled softly, “it’s alright, i think i’m busy tomorrow anyways. i’ll see you soon.”
hajime smiled. “yes, i’ll see you soon.”
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over the next couple of months, hajime had made time to keep in contact with you — between classes, during his part-time job, as he ate dinner — he was always sure to integrate you into his schedule.
you would be lying if you said you weren’t a little anxious.
oikawa laid across your bedroom floor, his glare etching holes into the ceiling. “he’s head-over-heels for you. i’m being serious! he has absolutely no reason to cheat, or anything of the sort. and if he did, i’d beat him up, obviously.” he spoke dramatically, as if what he was stating was common sense. and yet, you still found yourself worrisome.
“i guess, but- i’m sure it’s exhausting for him. he already works hard enough, so i can’t imagine how it is trying to balance his life over there with our relationship.” the brunette groaned at your fretting and launched himself up, his face now pointed towards yours.
his brows were tightly knit as he ranted, “if you were him, you would do anything you could to keep the relationship alive, wouldn’t you? because you’re so painstakingly, heartbreakingly, devastatingly in love with him, right? well, i’m telling you that’s what he’s doing right now! get your head on straight. you two were like, meant to be! so enough of your yapping!” despite his feigned anger, oikawa couldn’t wrap his head around your insecurities. did you not see how smitten hajime was? how, when your name was so much as mentioned in conversation, he became the liveliest person in the room, akin to a child talking about their favorite show? none of that changed, regardless of the distance. he wished you realized that.
you frowned. “sorry, i just- ugh.” you groaned into your palms, exasperated with your own worries. “it’s so stupid. i feel so stupid.”
your friend’s demeanor switched, and instead of aggressively reassuring you, he rubbed a gentle hand over your back. “he’s so, so, so in love with you. i promise.”
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a month after that interaction, oikawa asked you to hang out with him — supposedly, the plan was to watch a movie since “no one else wanted to watch it with him,” and eat right after. however, this was not the road to the theater.
“tell me where we’re going, or i’m going to call the police on you for kidnapping me,” you half-joked.
“no!! it’s a surprise — and if i were really kidnapping you, would i let you keep your phone?”
feeding into your concerns, oikawa pulled into the airport parking lot, his movement growing increasingly frantic. “hurry!” he shouted at you while pulling you through the crowd.
at last, he stopped before a gate, the bold arrivals sign hanging above you both. “just wait,” he spoke, his eagerness clear.
as if on cue, a strong pair of arms wrapped themselves around you both, rendering you short-breathed. “haji?” you spoke on instinct.
“i- i’m home. i’m home, guys.” he beamed up at both of you with a smile that you had longed to see for what felt like centuries. oikawa was cast to the side as hajime threw himself onto you, seemingly unaware of the click of his friend’s camera from just a few feet away. “i missed you so much, baby, you don’t understand.” he peppered kisses across your face, painting you with a longing so heavy it weighed your whole body down.
“i missed you too, haji.”
oikawa drove you both to your apartment before leaving a gift for hajime and a smile for you. the moon sung into the wind and left you shivering, resulting in your boyfriend ushering you into the house.
“i didn’t prepare anything, i’m sorry,” you ranted. “oikawa didn’t tell me — he told me we were going to the movies. what a liar. i was kind of excited for it too.”
hajime laughed before walking around your home. he seemed to inspect every corner with a heart full of love and a face drenched with yearning, his dried fingertips ghosting over the furniture. “it’s so cozy in here. when did you move in?”
you hummed while looking into the pantry. “after my first year, they allowed me to live off campus. it’s really convenient. i’d say it’s like, a five minute walk to the station?” as you rambled, hajime wrapped his arms around you once more. “hey, i’m making you dinner. you didn’t eat yet, right?” he shook his head against your neck.
“i really, really, missed you,” he whispered against your skin before pulling away. “what are you making?”
you smiled up at him, a sight he had been waiting to see in person. “your favorite, of course.”
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hajime told you he’d be over for the next month, as he was on spring break. the first week was spent celebrating with his friends and family — to begin, a party with his former team spent at a local restaurant.
“so,” oikawa begun, his face dusted pink as he held a bottle in his hand. “what have you been up to while you left us, iwa-chan?” the nickname made the man grimace, the memories it carried making him cringe. nonetheless, he continued.
“well, i’ve been training under this one trainer i’ve always looked up to. he’s taught me quite a bit, and i’m learning a lot every day. he works with the university’s varsity team, which is super awesome, and he used to play here in japan,” hajime ranted. “and i even met ushiwaka — super crazy, i know. it was like he was following me. oh, and- i’ve also met a few people there from my classes there that are super cool. look.” he pulled out his phone and showed a picture to the table, featuring him amongst a small group of friends. within them, one stood out the most. matsukawa was the first to call it out.
“holy shit, who’s that? the one on the right? she’s so pretty,” he spoke with slurred words, his face burning up with alcohol. the rest of the table leaned in to get a good view, murmurs of agreement ringing about. hajime looked beside him to see you stagnant, a slight furrow to your brow and an uncomfortable expression etched onto your face. he thumbed your hand under the table as if to provide you with solace.
“she’s in the same major as me, and she also came from japan. we met during class, and she introduced me to her friend group. it’s pretty cool, though — supposedly, she’s an understudy for an international team’s trainer,” he explained, noises of awe washing over the group. your face only grew more bitter.
you knew it was foolish to be jealous over something so minuscule. he was allowed to have friends — you weren’t so selfish as to rob him of that. but knowing that he was in the presence of someone so much greater than you made your head ache more than you had hoped. seeing him praise her so openly was akin to him piercing your ribcage. it was childish. you dared not to express such feelings to him.
when you got home, hajime splayed himself onto your bed without changing, his hand subconsciously gripping onto the hem of your sleeve as he drifted into sleep. you did not close your eyes as swiftly.
instead, you sat up, tracing the features on your boyfriend’s face and observing each intricacy. you did not want to lose this — to lose him. to think of such a thing frightened you; to experience it would be far worse. but would you blame him, if he chose the lustrous world across the sea over the dull life you presented to him?
you decided that you wouldn’t, for you knew the answer deep down.
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“hajime,” you began. you poked at your food apprehensively. “you’re leaving next week, right?”
he swallowed a large bite before responding, “mm, yeah, possibly.”
“possibly?”
“well- you know the girl from my group at college? the one i showed you all at the dinner table. she’s been offered to attend an actual game with the coach that’s training her and asked if i wanted to come along. i think it’s a super great opportunity,” he explained with a careless tone about him. contrary to that, you were coated with dread.
your movements halted altogether. “…yes, that’s a wonderful opportunity hajime! it’s just-“ you stumbled over your speech, fearful of saying the wrong thing. you promised yourself not to be childish, and yet, you longed to be selfish just a little longer. “can you really not stay any longer?”
hajime sighed, and your chest ached with guilt. “i could, but- you know this is a chance that doesn’t come by very often, if at all. this could be the step that brings me to where i need to be.”
you picked at the skin of your fingers under the table. he was right. you knew he was. but it hurt to witness it; to witness him willingly choose another thing over you.
your greed got the best of you. “haji, you told me to wait for you. i waited for so, so long. but it feels like- it just feels like all that waiting was for nothing. it feels like you’re slipping out of my fingers already.” he groaned softly, just barely enough for you to hear, and ran a hear through his hair. “i’m sorry, i know it’s selfish, but can’t you just- why not stay a little longer? please?”
he carried his dishes to the sink, a heavy air hanging around him. “if you know it’s selfish, why do you keep pushing for it? you know this is something beyond important to me. i worked so hard to get here, to get so close to my dream. i don’t understand why i should turn down something that could very well be the turning point.”
you followed suit, desperate to mend the conversation you started. he was growing irritated, and it terrified you. you wished not to say anything too abrasive, but he seemingly did not have that restraint. “i’m not telling you to turn it down, haji. i just want to spend a little more time with you before i can’t have you for another- i don’t know, another year? maybe more? i- i’m sorry, i just-“
“stop. just- stop. i know you’re upset, but i need you to understand that i’d be even more upset if i missed this opportunity. why don’t you get it?”
“i do get it, i promise, but-“
“then act like it! because to me, it just seems like you don’t want me to go at all! if it were any other person than her who invited me, you wouldn’t have said anything! but because you’re so goddamned selfish, you keep fighting to keep me here, even though you’re the one who told me going overseas was the best thing i could do for myself! you- fuck! you told me this was how i’d reach new heights. and i’m showing you that i’m getting there, and i’m trying so hard to become someone you can be proud of, that everyone can be proud of, and it just feels like you’re shutting all of that down!” white-hot tears were flowing from his eyes as he yelled, his consciousness not picking up on your protective stance and your own tear-drenched cheeks and the apologies spilling from your lips. “fuck- i’m gonna pack my shit now. i’m sorry i yelled, but i’m leaving tomorrow. goodnight.”
you could not process him leaving for the bedroom door behind you, and you could not process the shutting of the door and the shuffling of his belongings. all you could do was fall to the floor and curl in on yourself, ashamed for creating the commotion you swore not to stir.
when you awoke the next morning, the other side of the bed was cold and folded neatly. the house was empty.
you stumbled out into the kitchen, looking around for any remnant of hajime — a note, a picture, a gift, anything, only to turn up empty-handed and instead bearing a pained heart. “haji?” you mumbled into the air with a watery voice. “haji, where are you?”
your body knew of his whereabouts before your mind did, causing you to kneel to the ground and sob. your whimpers were reminiscent of a dog crying for its owner, or a child whining for its parent.
he had left without so much as a goodbye. perhaps if you had been less demanding, less adamant that he stay just a little bit longer with you, he would have kissed you at his departure or left you something to remember him with. but the house was empty, just as it was before he arrived.
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on the morning of his departure, long before the sun had crawled up onto the horizon, hajime went to oikawa’s place. he knocked on the door thrice before a disheveled man let him in. hajime apologized for his intrusion.
“why do you have your bags? why are you leaving so soon?” oikawa interrogated his friend before he could speak.
the other man scratched the back of his neck. “well, uh, i’m leaving early. that girl from my college, she offered to bring me with her to a training experience with her coach. i really wanna go.”
“what?” oikawa exclaimed dramatically, his eyes bulging out of his head. “did you- did you even explain this to them? what did they say?”
“i think i worded it wrong… they didn’t take very, uh, kindly to it, i guess. well- no, wait, they did, but i think i responded wrong. i just- i don’t know.”
the brunette scoffed before pacing around the living room with a burst of energy. “god, reasonably so! if i were them, hearing that you were ditching me for the person you haven’t stopped talking about this whole damn visit, i’d be furious! are you- are you insane?”
hajime shot up from his seat defensively. he looked at his friend with exasperation. “look, do you realize how important this is to me? why wouldn’t i go?” in response, oikawa stopped in his pacing. he rubbed his forehead in irritation, his gaze fixated to the floor.
“iwaizumi,” he spoke sternly. the formal tone brought the man to a halt. “you have to be honest with yourself. you haven’t seen your lover in like, forever, and you’re leaving them behind once again for a girl who just so happens to have connections-“
“connections that could get me places!”
“shut up! let me finish!” oikawa slammed his hands onto the table. “you have been lying to them this whole trip. they have been so kind as to wait for you, no matter how long it’d take. they stayed up night after night to call you and make sure you were doing well, to make sure you had eaten, to make sure you were still there. but you come here, and to me, it seems that all you want is what’s over there. i know these goals are important to you, and that you want to achieve them more anything. but have you never considered that maybe, just maybe, your own partner has been longing for you just as much?”
hajime could only scoff, so blinded by his aspirations that he could not bear to absorb oikawa’s words. “it’s selfish.”
“then maybe you should just leave. it’d be far more heartbreaking for them to stick with someone who can’t even appreciate them to an equal degree.”
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weeks after his disappearance, hajime had yet to speak to you. he no longer called nor texted. evidently, you were an obstacle to his desires.
however, after a drunk night spent with oikawa, you received a text from his contact — one you couldn’t bear to delete.
can we call?
you scrambled up from the couch, oikawa jolting at your action. “what? what is it?” he peered over at the message, and in an instant, dread displayed itself onto his face. “are you gonna answer?”
you knew it’d be stupid to do so — he had left you without a word for dreams that were greater than you, and left you to pick up the pieces of a relationship that had consumed your very being for so long. but it was undeniably tempting.
after long deliberation, you nodded and opened the notification. oikawa watched anxiously.
“hello? this is, um- is this-”
“yes. it’s me,” you answered shakily. silently, you put the call on speaker.
“oh, great! i mean, uh- okay, hold on.” you could hear him breathe in before speaking again. “i know it was horribly wrong of me to leave without any contact. i just wanted to apologize for that, for everything. for not giving you what you deserved and needed at the time. i just- can we just talk for a bit?”
you slumped back onto the couch and oikawa followed after you. you weren’t in the right state of mind — the copious amount of alcohol you drank clouded your functionality, and yet, you knew that this chance wouldn’t ever come by again — it was foolish. “of course,” you responded. “how have you been?”
you both listened half-intently as he rambled on about his current life — how he was now working with a new coach, how he was getting closer to graduating, how he was planning on going to the japan national team as soon as he got the chance. he failed to leave out the mention of his girlfriend — his new girlfriend — thus exposing him and leaving you distraught.
stupidly, you were not angry. he seemed so excited; he was building a life that seemed to be getting better every day. who were you to oppose that? oikawa shook his head disapprovingly at your lack of response.
“anyways, um, how are you?” hajime asked. he sounded so youthful — it hurt far more than it should have.
you struggled to swallow your tears as you spoke. “i- i’m doing okay. i just, uh, got a new job, ‘nd i- sorry, i’m-“
his concern hurt more than anything. “are you alright? is everything okay?”
“i’m sorry, it’s- it’s really late here right now, and i’m exhausted. can we, um- can we speak another time?” you sniffled through your words, desperately hanging onto the last bits of a conversation you knew you were not strong enough to withstand.
“oh, okay, sure. sorry to bother you so late in the night. and, um, i… i’m sorry. for everything. really, i am. uh, sleep well.” he hung up before you could say anything more, leaving you to sob in oikawa’s arms as he unleashed a handful of tears himself, as if sharing your anguish.
to you, iwaizumi hajime was everything. to him, you were too far behind to keep up — you were his second best.
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ilylovelyz · 2 years ago
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haikyuu boys when protective of you
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most likely gets into a fight, does throw the first punch, and dramatically whines afterwards, forcing you to be his personal nurse ATSUMU, TANAKA, nishinoya, terushima, IWAIZUMI, hoshiumi
so insulting and almost degrading to whoever is threatening you that the offender ends up leaving out of embarrassment TSUKISHIMA, shirabu, KUROO, kenma, sugawara, daishou, akira, SUNA, kageyama, ushijima, futakuchi, hanamaki
YOU'RE the one who is protecting them SAKUSA, hachi, bokuto, YAMAGUCHI, GOSHIKI, asahi, tendo, AONE, oikawa (somehow), koganegawa, LEV
does his best to diffuse the situation, but ultimately leaves angry and mentally hexes them KIYOKO, akaashi, KITA, DAICHI, hinata, yaku, hirugami
spends the night in jail KENTARO, semi, yamamoto, mattsun, OSAMU
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chimielie · 1 year ago
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oh my god, they were roommates
part 2 to and they were roommates. no cws, just silliness.
you're not talking to tooru.
he's not sure how you manage it so effectively. you eat all your meals in your room while he's home, except for when you manage to sneak from there to the door while he's in the bathroom. his only clue that you've gone out is that you leave your bedroom door open when you do, really hammering home how empty his life suddenly is.
"even when we're in the same room," he sighs, resting his cheek on his fist. "it's like trying to grab a fish out of the water. i turn around or blink and poof! gone!"
"your sleeve is dipping into your drink," says his date. "and i really think you need to discuss this with your roommate. at home. alone."
tooru waves goodbye forlornly as they stand up and walks out of the restaurant, leaving behind a half-eaten ball of rice and a broken man.
"you are like a sad, sad," akaashi says, pausing to really linger on the word sad, "wet cat. please stop bringing your dates here to mope about—to them. you are forming bad associations between our business and your terrible romantic etiquette."
akaashi keiji is a mangaka now, or an editor for one, anyway; he works at onigiri miya (tokyo location) on the side because it's the only way he routinely leaves the house; tooru brings his dating drama here to brighten up what must surely be a terribly boring life.
"what would you do without me, akaashi-kun," tooru stretches his arms high with a languid sigh that makes akaashi worry that he has comprehended none of his words. "wouldn't you be so miserable if you didn't have me to bring romance and excitement to your life?"
"i have a boyfriend of several years," akaashi says, which is rude to remind tooru of while he's in such a vulnerable state. "i have plenty of excitement with him in my life."
"inconsiderate!" tooru snorts. "please break up with him to show me solidarity."
"i will not be doing that." akaashi picks up the nameless and now-vanished date's plate and takes a bite out of the leftover food.
"understandable," tooru nods, "that's very reasonable. i just don't know what to do, or how to fix it, or what i did wrong."
"you come in here every other night to whine about what you did wrong."
"do not."
"do too," akaashi sticks out his tongue at him. there's a grain of rice stuck to his lip. "you spent several months going out on dates trying to make your friend-turned roommate jealous—during which, I'll note, you basically exclusively talked about the person you were and continue to be obsessed with—then initiated... romantic physical contact, then ran away. because you have the attachment style of a stray cat."
"ah, akaashi-kun," tooru says. "are you saying i get around?"
"i am saying you are lurking outside the window and begging for attention and then biting the hand that feeds you when you get it.”
“oh.” tooru is quiet for a moment. “can i get the check?”
“it’s on the house if you’ll just go home and talk to your roommate and never come back here with another date.” akaashi says, finishing off the onigiri.
“deal.”
your room is empty, your bedroom door ajar when he comes home. mournfully, tooru sits on the bed, reminiscing over the hours he'd spent gossiping with you here.
he'll just wait for you to get back. when he used to take you dancing—with your other friends, but you'd wind your arms around his neck and he'd run light hands over your waist, your hips, and you would look at him like no one else even existed—you always wanted to leave before midnight. it's ten-forty-nine now, according to his watch, so he's sure you'll be back before long.
you get home at two-oh-four. you had never seen the point in staying out longer when going home and chatting over a bowl of cheesy noodles with tooru was so much more appealing—you didn't want to dance with anyone else anyway. now, though, you don't want to be home, and you have something to prove. to who, you're not sure, but you find yourself staying out later and later.
even though you always return home alone. you'd thought about really upping the ante, about moving on as abruptly as possible, but you couldn't. it felt like going too far in this petty revenge game. after all, you still—
you stop short, dropping your shoes on the floor. the devil is in your bed, lying on his side, knees tucked to his chest to fit his absurdly long frame. his breaths are even and deep, his face peaceful.
"oh, tooru," you sigh, and climb over him to tuck yourself against his warm side.
you blink your eyes open slowly, sleep still gleaming in the corners of your vision. there's a weight on your hip and something that smells really, really good surrounding you, nearly lulling you back to sleep.
"oh, please don't," says a voice you haven't heard in days. "my arm's circulation has been completely cut off. i may never serve again."
you jolt away from the soft source of warmth, which you realize belatedly is oikawa's chest.
"what happened?" you say, swiping at your face with the back of your hand.
he looks frustratingly perfect as always, brown hair rumpled, eyes soft like you aren't in the biggest spat of your friendship.
"i was waiting for you," he admits, leaning on his side and casting his eyes down, his lashes shadowing his high cheekbones. "because i wanted to apologize, to be clear. i must have fallen asleep, and then i woke up, and it was like—"
"yes," you cough. "i see. um."
"i'm sorry," he says. "hey, look at me. i'm really sorry."
"for what, oikawa?" you laugh nervously.
"for being stupid," he rolls one shoulder in a shrugging motion. "for trying to make you jealous and instead just being, like, a complete fucking clown during all of it."
"make me jealous?" you say, blinking at him.
"please don't look at me like that," he says, scrubbing over his face with the hand that's not propping up his head. "it-you make me nervous."
"we've been friends for years," you say, still apparently lost. "how can i make you nervous?"
"you always will," he laughs, but it's strained. "look—i like you. probably more, but i'm trying not to scare you—any more than i already have, i mean. i'm not sorry for kissing you, is what i mean. i should just—i should probably go."
"wait," you say firmly before he can untangle himself from your sheets. putting a hand on his shoulder and pushing yourself up to meet his lips, which are soft and dry and parted slightly with surprise.
the kiss is warm and lingers, even after you pull away. tooru stares at you with dazed eyes that make you shy, dropping your own. his voice is quiet but hopeful, contrasting his words in tone when he speaks.
"what the fuck?"
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hatsukeii · 9 months ago
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hi to the 🐤
no rush for this request(?) at all!! i was just rotting thinking about childhood bsf iwaizumi hajime with reader in high school and the fic could be about how hajime is too used to the spotlight being taken by oikawa and gets half sad when he thinks u also got stolen by him but no they’re just scheme to plan a huge date for her to ask him out
OWMXKWNC OR OR OR OR childhood bsf ushijima (do u see a pattern?) always being next to reader and always being there for her, helping her run errands, do stuff and he’s like a rlly big lost puppy following her around and one day they’re just like ‘WE’RE DATING?!’ ‘What do you mean? We’ve been dating since you said yes to my ring pop proposal’
thank you for greeting duck the goose:)
i feel like i haven’t written about iwa nearly enough (he is a need btw yes iwaizume hajime (27) athletic trainer save me) BUT i will get to your ushiwaka one soon after as well‼️ gonna feed the iwa crowd today
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bags / childhood bsf!iwaizumi hajime x reader
genre(s) - childhood bsf to lovers!! slight angst, but with a good, fluffy ending, oikawa being his usual self, iwa being hot as always
warning(s) - bags by clairo used for a MAN and not a WOMAN smh:( it just fit well though and I love it, gn reader so the girls the gays and the theys are all covered for!! no serious warnings today my pookies<3
wc: 1834
tldr; he waits for the right time with your bag in his hands, hoping for the day he can hold you with them instead
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Iwaizumi Hajime (13) has been holding your bags since the days of middle school. Without fail, every afternoon at 3:10pm exactly as the school bell rings, he is standing outside your classroom, his own bag slung over one shoulder for yours to go on the other. Then, he slings it onto himself, and watches you and Oikawa walk out of the classroom together, cursing to himself for never being put in the same class as the two of you. He drags behind, two bags weighing his little middle-schooler body down, but a toothy grin plastered across his face whenever you look back at him with that face. That face with the ever so slightly widened eyes, and lips apart in a worrisome smile.
“Are you sure you can hold two bags, Iwaizumi? I can take it back!”
“I’m fine! It’s all good!”
Middle schooler Iwaizumi Hajime (13) watches you through Oikawa’s squinted eyes as the two of you chat and giggle on the walk home, his footsteps still lagging behind. He’s rarely close to you, unlike Oikawa, so his mind has to fill the blanks. He remembers hearing you mention the crow’s feet that line the corners of your eyes once in passing to Oikawa, who then rambles on about how they look like whiskers on a cat. He recalls the time you face planted into the floor of the school playground, earning you a faint, white scar that slashes across your top lip. He watches you through Oikawa’s eyes like he’s reading a story. But this is Oikawa’s story, Oikawa’s dialogue, Oikawa’s conversations with you, Oikawa’s descriptions of your face, blank spots filled in with blurry recollections of the details of you, stolen from the vibrations in the air between you and Oikawa, all playing out in front of Iwaizumi’s eyes with your bag slung over his shoulder.
Once in a while (every single day), even now, as the three of you continue to walk home together from Aoba Johsai after volleyball practise, Oikawa turns around to pout at him, feigning betrayal and shock as he accuses high school junior Iwaizumi Hajime (16) of “friendship treason.” Whatever that’s supposed to be.
“Iwa-chan! How come you never carry my bag for me too?”
“You can carry your own, dumbass!”
And every time Oikawa has a childish outburst at Iwaizumi, like this one, you snicker into your palm at his antics, the crow’s feet that engrave themselves into your skin turning into smile lines that lace the underside of your eyes, reminding him that even as the audience of Oikawa’s story, living vicariously through his conversations with you, and the smack on his arm that you mockingly give him, Iwaizumi is still inevitably tied to the plot through the strap of your bag hanging on his shoulder. His body, taller and stronger now, still lags behind the two of you by his deliberately slowed steps. This is Oikawa’s story, and if this is what you want, then he will simply watch it play out.
The walk always reaches your home first, to Iwaizumi’s relief. It is only then that he gets the opportunity to live in Oikawa’s shoes, when he walks towards you and eases the bag onto your doorstep. It is here that he can see you through his own eyes instead, noticing the little freckles from the sun that scatter across your cheeks, and the bits of dried skin on your lips that you gnaw off with your front teeth, and the blood that begins to seep through the raw wound where the skin came off. You look real, not like his fractured recollection of the strokes that make up your face. You’ve clawed your way out of Oikawa’s story into his own, and Iwaizumi etches something new into his mind every time he looks up from placing your bag down, patiently pleading to one day know more than just your face.
"Thanks for holding my bag again Iwa, get home safe, okay?"
Iwa. Oikawa's nickname is rubbing off onto you, and he thinks he can get used to this.
For the rest of the walk, Iwaizumi is inserted into Oikawa's story, like some surprise cameo. He readjusts his backpack, slinging both straps onto his shoulders, and Oikawa knudges his side with his elbows suggestively every time you leave.
"You can lie to them, Iwa-chan, but you can't lie to me."
"I'm not lying."
"Sure."
But Oikawa knows Iwaizumi is being unfair to himself, because he doesn't know the way his name slips out of your mouth into the conversations between you and Oikawa, more like a recurring character than a surprise cameo, hidden amongst every other line of dialogue in a script. He doesn't know that whenever the crow's feet begin to grow on your cheek, like whiskers on a cat, it's at the mention of his name, perhaps about something Iwaizumi said to Oikawa during training, or a new nickname he threw at him, the latest one being Hanger Bastard. He doesn't know that when the laughs begin erupting from your belly, Oikawa can hear Iwaizumi's name under your breath, choking out as you mumble to yourself, "Fuck, Iwa has to hear this, Iwa HAS to hear this,” just for Iwa to leave wordlessly after setting your bag down, before you can say anything to him.
One of these days, high school senior Iwaizumi Hajime (18) decides that he will do it. He will finally, after years of holding your bag, ask to hold your hand at graduation instead.
Until he overhears you and Oikawa talking as he walks out of the changing rooms, sweaty and sore from volleyball training, his bag hanging off one shoulder.
“Okay, let me do it,” you straighten your posture, looking up at Oikawa.
“Let’s go to grad formal together. Be my plus one.”
And he remembers, this is not his story. It was never his story to begin with, always Oikawa’s. Iwaizumi is only a cameo, an easter egg that’s there to hold you bag every chapter of the way, praying that you will see him lagging behind, waiting for the right time. His steps come to a halt, and the ground squeaks beneath his sneakers, the towel in his hand falling to the floor.
“Oh. Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”
He snatches the towel off the ground, slinging the other strap of his bag on, and heads out of the gym, ripping his eyes away from staring through Oikawa’s, killing himself off in Oikawa’s story, and in your own. Iwaizumi’s character exits the setting of the gym, just a little too quickly to hear the rest of your conversation.
“Iwa-chan is a little shorter than me, so you’ll probably have a better time trying to reach him if you want.”
“Got it, are you sure I’ll be fine though?”
Oikawa knows this needs to happen. He sees that Iwaizumi has been waiting, his patience never running thin even after five years of holding your bag silently on walks home, dragging behind so Oikawa could have his chance at you instead. He has noticed the glances Iwaizumi takes at your face every time he sets your bag down at your doorstep, softer and gentler than the flipping of pages on a yellowing book, yearning to see more, feel more, know more. Oikawa never needed a chance with you, he never wanted it either, not when all you rambled on about was Iwaizumi’s new nicknames for him, or Iwaizumi’s play on the court, or how Iwaizumi would find some stupid video you saw hilarious, but you never had the chance to show him. The second strap going onto his shoulder is all Oikawa needs to be sure that Iwaizumi is tired of waiting. Which means you have to go, now.
“Go, go after him, now, he’s not too far yet. You got this.”
And so you sprint as quickly as your legs will take you. You run down to the school’s exit, and Iwaizumi is nowhere to be found. Your heart sinks at the possibility that he actually thought you were asking Oikawa to be your date, seeing that he departed the gym soundlessly. Your knees ache and every breath you huff in seems to bruise your lungs a little bit, and you have to stop and hunch over, hands pressed against your knees for stability. Your bag weighs on your shoulders, and you realise you have forgotten how it feels to walk with it on your back, books dragging you down like an anchor in the seabed. You slap your knees, it’s the next corner, and it’s about time you carried your own bag for once anyways.
Iwaizumi is staring at a bouquet of flowers that sits lifelessly on his desk in petals of red and stems of green, contemplating what to do with them, when he hears a knock at his front door.
“Hajime! Someone’s here for you!” His mother yells from downstairs, her words dragging on suggestively as he slumps down to the entrance. You stand at his doorstep, a palm sized journal in one hand and holding the doorframe with the other as your body leans into the wall, face flushed and lowered in exhaustion from the sprint you just took.
“Oh, hey, what are you doi-”
Your head jolts up to meet his eyes, and Oikawa is right. Iwaizumi is a little easier to reach. Your hand shoots out, the journal sticking out temptingly from your fingers. Iwaizumi still thinks this is Oikawa’s story, the one he chose to die in. Yet he takes the journal anyways, unhooking the elastic loop and opening it up.
“21/1- Saw a video of a cat spilling vermicelli everywhere, wanna show Iwa because he’d probably like it.”
“23/1- Chat when will Iwa talk to me on the walk home:(”
“27/1- Oikawa says I should just chat him up but I’m nervous???? what the fuck do i do???”
Lines upon lines of journal entries deck the pages of the book, and Iwaizumi can do nothing but read every single entry, a rush of blood flooding into his head.
“14/4- Iwa invited to me to vball training!! Wonder if i can keep going every day to watch him play…”
“15/4- Why does he go quiet when Oikawa is around:(”
He drops his arm, revealing your face behind the journal. His ears pulse at the sound of his heart in his throat.
“Iwa, let’s go to grad formal together. Wanna be my plus one?”
Shoving the book into your arms, his hand signals for you to stay, and he sprints upstairs, almost tripping over on the hardwood beneath his feet. The bouquet of flowers waits for him at his desk, more lively than ever, and he snatches it into his hand, before stumbling back down the stairs to you. He straightens himself at the door, his windpipe threatening to close.
“Sorry, the hoodie and the sweats aren’t really doing me justice right now.”
You stare at him, who scratches the back of his neck, a bouquet of roses wrapped in coffee stained newspapers in his hand. No, you think, the hoodie and sweats are doing him so much justice.
“I should’ve asked you a long time ago, probably back before junior formal dinner, or at freshman dance night, maybe even playground duty in middle school. Can I make it up to you, and ask you now?”
You nod, crow’s feet threatening to emerge from your cheeks, but you suppress them. Your mouth hangs ajar, not sure what to make of this situation.
“Can I have the honour of being yours?”
“Fuck yeah you can!”
Iwaizumi doesn’t spare a moment, before lifting you up by your underarms and pulling you into himself. From afar, Oikawa watches from his own house on the same block, grinning with pride. You giggle into his shoulder, arms around his neck. It sounds like the beginning of Iwaizumi’s story, maybe something even better than what he imagined.
“Now, do you want me to walk you home? I can take your bag for you.”
“Sure, Iwa.”
And walk you home he does, except he doesn’t hold the strap of your bag on his shoulder with his free hand anymore, finally linking you fingers with his own instead.
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author's note:
HEYYYY I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS BB @catsoupki I started it the day you requested but i was so busy that i ended up getting WRITER'S BLOCK UM?? but i had this whole idea i was NOT about to let it get wasted because i couldn't think smh ANYWAYS
hope everyone else liked it too!! i love iwaizume hajime (27) athletic trainer and his hanger bastard too i guess... need someone to be walking out the door with your bags too
and here's the writing playlist!! feel free to add songs into it for me so i can find new artists and write with more inspo!!
anyways tags as usual:
@chuuya-brainrot @fiannee @starlysama @bailey-reeds
ok love u guys bye bye
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