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#order up for oikawa!
bokutosmochi · 2 years
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WHERE THE HQ BOYS KEEP YOUR PHOTO
sugar level: 0.5k allergen warning/s: n/a
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he has a photo of you and him as his lockscreen
it was a messy one, one that was taken while your heart was pounding and head spinning. it was in an arena restroom. your loving boyfriend took you to your favorite band's concert. you held in your pee for as long as you could, but the trip to a loo is inevitable when your doting boyfriend is reminding you to chug bottle of water after bottle of water so you didn't get dehydrated. knowing there was a lot of unpleasant characters at concerts, he offered to come with you, which he did. and so after doing your business, you came back to the restroom almost empty. every person there was in their respective stalls. taking the opportunity, you whipped out your phone and snapped a mirror photo of you two, your arm around their shoulder, and theirs around your waist. it was a bit blurred when you pulled them back to where the audience was as you heard the first notes of your favorite song being played.
BOKUTO, KUROO, yamaguchi
he has a photo of you two in his wallet
it's a pretty old one, but he held it near and dear to his heart nonetheless. the corners are a bit wrinkled, and some of the colors have faded away, but the memories that photo held never will. it was your graduation photo. back when you guys were third years about to graduate, you went to the photography studio your graduation shoot was gonna be at the same time. to save time, the people running the place asked if you two were close to each other and if you were, you could enter the studio at the same time. you did, of course. them being the gentleman that they are told you that you could have yours taken first, then it was their turn. the photographer asked them if he wanted to smile and after realizing he was not getting one, he turned to you and asked if you guys wanted to get one taken together. it would cost a few more yen, but how could you turn it down?
USHIJIMA, iwaizumi, KITA
he has a photo of the two of you on his phonecase, clear photocase, basic bitch style. same.
it's a silly one, one with grins on your faces and holding each other in your embrace, printed on cheap photopaper. however, the photo itself he considered priceless. he took you out on a date in a carnival being held near your city - a well-known carnival - and you can say with the utmost confidence that it was the most fun you've ever had, both because of the place itself and the person that you were with. between eating food that were most definitely not healthy and him winning you giant stuffed animal after giant stuffed animal, he spotted a photobooth. turns out, it was a photobooth he could barely fit in because of his hulking frame, but he didn't care. he still begged you to take pictures with him.
atsumu, HINATA, OIKAWA
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staarpix · 4 months
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Iwaizumi's go to coffee order is just a hot Americano. No sugar no cream no milk
Oikawa's go to coffee order is, as Iwaizumi likes to call it, a "heart attack in a cup" which is the most sugary Frappuccino topped with whipped cream (of course) and chocolate syrup
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heich0e · 1 year
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okay well now i can't quite stop thinking of brat tamer iwa who says "drop the attitude" while holding your chin 😵‍💫
gosh what hole have i dug for myself???? but thank u liv for entertaining my very strong iwa thoughts!
no need to thank me .. i'm always down to clown when it comes to brat tamer iwa
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euphoricimagination · 4 months
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𝓗𝓪𝓲𝓴𝔂𝓾𝓾 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓼 𝓶𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪 𝓹𝓲𝓬𝓴-𝓶𝓮 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵 - Part 2
Feat. Aoba Johsai & Fukurodani
Premise: You had to do something else for a week and a half, leaving the boys alone for that period. Although they told the coaches that they could survive without you, the coaches ask a girl to help them out instead. They weren’t particularly excited, which got worse the more they spent time with her
Aoba Johsai
Since Seijoh’s volleyball club was very popular among the students, the coach had no problems in looking for someone to be there while you weren’t
In fact, the coach found two, mostly because there were a lot of duties during that week
Unnecessary in the eyes of the team, they were fine before you, they don’t need two of them now
Not even a day passed when the team were dreading this decision; not only they were Oikawa fans to begin with, but they were also annoying
Even Oikawa couldn’t find joy in this situation
The normally heartthrob of the team, the one that adores receiving attention, couldn’t stand them, missing your *playful* punches and scoldings
You luckily were able to hang out with them after their Sunday practice, when it had become a tradition to go to the nearest shopping mall to eat a meal as a team
So to surprise them, you went there without them, planning to raid their table
When you saw them walking into the food court you couldn’t help but giggle, one girl was holding the arm of a very disgusted Oikawa, while the other was clearly acting like a dude alongside an annoyed Iwaizumi, everyone else ignoring them
You started looking at the menus, deciding what to eat, ordering a burger and some fries
“Wow, you’re eating…that? Someone is not thinking about hot girls summer” you hear from your left, one of the girls looking at you as if you were committing a sin
“yeah I don’t care”
“That’s all you’re getting? I could not eat only that, I’m ordering like 6 burgers” another voice comes from your other side, the other girl was there too
“…ok” you say, starting to understand why the team was so fed up with them. The team looks mean, but they were never unnecessary rude
“can I have a salad? I wish I could eat..that, but I’m too worried about how I look, you know” the girl in your left says
“I just got done playing volleyball with the team, so I need like…6.000.000 calories, imagine only eating a salad” the other says, making you sigh
“I love your make up, by the way! It’s so…natural, I wish I had the confidence to not care about how I look on public, good for you!” the girl says with a sarcastic tone
“imagine even wearing make up every day and trying that hard, like I just roll out of bed an-”
“I don’t care about any of your thoughts, so shut up please” you say annoyed, you didn’t know if you were annoyed, uncomfortable or straight up angry, but before you could add anything else an arm wraps your shoulder
“Yn-chaan!” Oikawa squishes you
“Yn-san, you’re here!” Kindaichi exclaims, relief appearing on his face. Kunimi gets slightly closer to you, a move that means that he wants some type of affection, so you pat his head
“Y-you know her?” the princess type of girl asks, eyes wide
“She is our dear manager” Matsukawa adds, Hanamaki nodding with a smirk that only grew bigger when the girl shrieks
“H-her?! But she looks so weak! And I bet she doesn’t know shit about sports! Like.. she’s a girl!” the ‘tomboy’ girl says now
“don’t get too comfortable now, you were just a substitute for her, not the other way around. She is the best manager we could ever ask for” Oikawa says mockingly, hugging you tighter
“b-b-but…”
“you can leave now, we have our manager back, we don’t need you two here anymore” Iwaizumi ends the conversation, taking your tray with food as they all take you to the table
“I still have a few days that I can’t be there” you tell them once you were sitting
“we’ll manage” Iwaizumi says
“What Yn-chaan? Are you sure you aren’t missing this handsome face of mi-ouch!” Oikawa tries to say, but you punch him making the team laugh
You were at peace again
Fukurodani
Despite having another managers in their rooster, the coach decided to ask the manager of other team to help them out
After all the team is big, so another hand wouldn’t be bad
The team was nice, so they did try their best to make her feel welcome eve if it was for a week and a half
But she was making things hard
Washio tried to be a gentleman, but he ended up not interacting much with her
Konoha, in the other hand, was sarcastic, but she was either too dense or too delusional to realize
Akaashi tried to be understanding, but even he was starting to get tired of it
And Bokuto, even with his loud and extroverted personality, ended up just trying to avoid her
When you came back, you had the *amazing* opportunity to meet her first hand, right after entering the gym
What the guys have told you wasn’t particularly encouraging, yet you still wanted to give her a fair shot
“Why are you looking at me? It’s just a knee brace, you never seen something like this?” she tells you, before you could even say hi
“well, hi, nice to meet you too”
“So…you are the manager? The one that I’m replacing? Well, of course you don’t know what this is, since you don’t play any sports”
“well, before I kinda did some cheerleading, but it wasn't for me so I joined this idiots and…”
“exactly! Cheerleading isn’t a sport! Gosh, how are you even the manager of this team”
“Yn!!” Bokuto enters the gym, hugging you tightly as he spins around. Akaashi was behind, who gives you a smile
“If you were wondering! I got injured by playing football…and then basketball and then volleyball with the boys, remember that Bokuto?!”
“eh..nope” bokuto answers confused
“Well me neither”
“anyways! I’m back on the team, so thank you for…well, being here. I’ll take care of it from here on out…unless the guys want you to stay..?” you say
“NO!” a collective answer came in, way too quickly. You resisted a laugh
“well, that settles it, good luck with your knee brace” you push her out softly, a grunt coming from her
“Thank god you’re back Yn-chan” Akaashi tells you, the team patting your head lovingly
“we should celebrate! After practice lets go to eat!” Bokuto adds
“okay! Bokuto is paying!” Konoha says, going to the court to start practicing
You see bokuto whine as he goes too, everyone joining while making fun of the owl boy.
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beangfrisky · 1 year
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singledad!kiyoomi found out recently that he would be the sole provider of his two small kids. taking on the role of ceo for the family business has caused enough stress in his life. but he decided no matter what he was going through his kids needed a good dad. so he was doing his best to be one.
singledad!kiyoomi scrambled into the coffee shop hands full of a car seat in one hand and a diaperbag over his shoulder. he held his daughter’s hand as they walked up to the counter to order together.
singledad!kiyoomi overheard you asking for any job openings while he got out his card to pay. something as simple as reaching in his back pocket was a struggle these days. he wasn’t sure how he was going to survive the entire working day while also caring for his kids.
singledad!kiyoomi looked up at you and caught himself staring for too long. you were beautiful. and young, maybe in your early twenties. his brain quickly decided he could solve both of your problems in one go.
singledad!kiyoomi offered you a thousand dollars to join him and his little ones at his office for the day. you certainly seemed suspicious but quickly got distracted by the cute baby he was holding. you followed him back to his work and played with his children all day in an empty office room.
he really hoped this would be the nanny that worked out. not only for his kids, but also his own selfish reasons.
atsumu kuroo iwaizumi osamu
oikawa
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seijorhi · 16 days
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Oleander
Oikawa Tooru x female reader x Iwaizumi Hajime w.c 8.6k tw: yandere, mentions of child abuse and neglect, references to underage kissing, murder, horror themes, pseudo-cest (foster siblings), blanket dub/non-con vibes for a good portion of this
The patisserie smells of sugar, vanilla and freshly baked croissants. In a word; delicious. 
For several minutes now, your brother’s been standing bent at the waist, studying the display case stacked full of cakes and desserts with an intense kind of focus. Considering. Deliberating. Inadvertently placing himself, and by extension you, as an obstacle for other people trying to do the same. 
“Alright, the crepe cake or the fancy looking chocolate one, the…” Heisuke squints at the display case, trying to decipher the label, “gateaux? Or should we go for the red one with the strawberry mousse thing?”
Bingo. You hold back a smile. 
“Go the strawberry one.” Nobody loves strawberries like your mom loves strawberries. 
“Ok, great. We’ll grab that, a bottle of nice wine, hit the florist and I think that should do it.” He nods to himself, satisfied. “She’ll be over the moon.”
He’s not wrong. The woman you’ve called a mother for the past ten years would fall over herself for something as simple as a birthday card, regardless of the fact that your dad insists on going all out every year. 
“She’s already over the moon; you’re home for the week.” The admission’s soft, hesitant – poking a little too close to an open wound for you to feel entirely comfortable voicing it. Hei gives you an odd look, but it mellows into something more genuine when he realises you’re not taking a stab at him. 
Baby steps. 
Finally, Heisuke steps up to the counter to order. Within minutes the cake’s boxed up, with little ice-packs slipped in to keep it cool, and paid for, and the two of you head out, you holding the door open for Hei to carefully maneuver his way out without jostling the precious, expensive cargo. 
“You’re good at this stuff, y’know,” he says as the two of you fall into step together. 
“At… picking cakes?”
He snorts, “No. I meant the whole… I don’t know. You’re good at remembering stuff, the cakes mom likes, dad’s weird habits. You probably already know what flowers we’re going to pick for her, don’t you?”
This time you don’t bother hiding your smile – peonies, pink ones. 
You go to tell him as much when a loud voice calls out your name. On instinct, you both spin to the source, and when you meet those piercing, olive green eyes, bearing down at you from the other side of the street, your heart leaps into your throat.
A ghost.
You can’t breathe. For a moment you can’t even think. Your hand stretches out, blindly seeking Heisuke, an anchor, anything–
Before your fingers can brush his sleeve, a hard, lean body collides with yours, sweeping you up into a crushing hug. Not Iwaizumi, though. 
Oikawa, taller, broader than the last time you saw him, smelling of citrus, summer and salt lets out a breathy noise, halfway between amazement and disbelief. 
“There you are,” he beams, setting you back on unsteady legs. 
Found you, the glint in his eyes seems to say. 
Rather than let you go, step back and give you some much needed space to breathe, his palm instead slides to rest on your hip, taking your chin between the index finger and thumb of his other hand in order to look at you properly, dark eyes poring over you for signs of anything amiss – bruises, tear-tracks, red eyes, swollen, split lips. 
Your mouth goes dry. 
On one side, there’s your brother, bewildered, arm half outstretched as if he can’t make his mind up whether he should be intervening or not. Iwa’s already jogging across the street, snarling at a driver who lays on his horn. 
The weight of Oikawa’s appraisal is as familiar to you as it is oppressive, and while his touch is delicate, featherlight, it burns to the marrow. Suddenly you’re fourteen again, trying to duck past him before he can notice the state of you.  
‘It’s nothing, Tooru, don’t worry about it!’ 
And just like back then, there’s a knot in your chest that doesn’t loosen until satisfaction melts the too sharp edge to his grin – right as Iwa joins you two. Three, you suppose, because while Heisuke remains in stunned silence, eyes darting between you and Oikawa, he’s still party to this, still a witness, and the thought makes you want to curl up into a ball and disappear forever. 
(You shove down the fleeting rush of warmth at the relief you find there, the voice in your head that coos that he still cares enough to check. You don’t want him to care.)
“Holy fuck,” Iwa laughs, and Oikawa’s shoved aside, both of you ignoring the indignant grumbling as your rigid body’s pulled into his chest, his hand finding its way to the back of your head. He breathes in slow. Deep.
He still smells the same, earthy and masculine, the faintest tinge of his last cigarette still clinging to his jacket. Back then, he used to steal them from your foster father. You imagine that now, he probably has the money to go off and buy his own. 
“I’m sorry, who are you? What– can you let her go, please?” 
If it wasn’t them, the sheer absurdity of the moment might’ve made you giggle. Heisuke’s ears are bright red, a flush that extends down his neck. He doesn’t look angry per se, uncomfortable, absolutely, but from the pinched expression on his face, it’s clear he’s fighting the urge to bite out something far less polite. 
None of this, least of all the way they’re tugging you between them like a rag-doll, feels very polite to begin with.
As it is, Heisuke’s interruption has the intended effect. The fingers wound in your hair twitch, the cage of his arms drawing you closer. You almost expect the baring of teeth, a possessive snarl, yet it’s a small, almost imperceptible thing. He retreats – reluctantly – turning to glance at your brother, Oikawa by his side.
Judging from the stony, almost bored expression he levels at Hei, he’s not impressed.
“Friend of yours, imouto?” Oikawa’s purr skitters down your spine like ice. Unlike Iwa, there’s nothing less than friendly curiosity on the surface. He’s even smiling. 
Tongue darting out to wet your lips, you find your voice. 
“Hei, this is Iwaizumi and Oikawa,” you say, gesturing at each respectively. “We were in the same foster home for a while.” Sparing the two of them half a glance, you continue, “We’re actually right in the middle of something, if you’ll excuse us.”
The explicit dismissal’s bolder than you feel, but you’re proud that your voice doesn’t waver. You can’t say the same for your hand when you reach for Heisuke’s spare one, uttering the words that’ll only damn you further, “C’mon, nii-san. Mom and dad are waiting.”
Heisuke doesn’t blink. His hand slips into yours, the two of you sidestepping the pair and walking off towards the car without a backwards glance. 
Neither one of you speaks until you’re buckled into the passenger seat, Heisuke adjusting the rear-view mirror, the cake safely stashed away in the back. Until you’re pulling out onto the main road and there’s distance between you and them.
If only the gnawing, unsettling feeling in your stomach would go with it.
“Sorry,” you mumble, blankly staring out the window at the passing scenery. At the clouds hanging overhead, dark and threatening. Funny, that. Fitting. The skies were clear when you left home this morning. “About the nii-san thing, and grabbing your hand,” you clarify, because whether it was rude or not, you’ll be damned before you apologise for brushing them off. 
That’s not your relationship with Hei. It’s never been that. 
He eyes you for a beat. “You know, I never understood why mom wanted to adopt so bad. Dad too, but mom was always the one pushing for it. We were happy, the three of us. I wasn’t a screw up, their marriage was solid. I couldn’t understand the need to bring someone else in. Our family was fine, perfect the way it was.”
His thumb taps against the steering wheel, his shoulders loose and relaxed. You can’t quite pin the mood he’s in, where he’s going with this. 
“Oh,” you say, mostly because it feels like he’s waiting for you to acknowledge it. 
None of what he’s saying is news to you. None of it’s anything you haven’t wondered yourself a thousand times over. It’s just that Heisuke… you’ve never talked about this. Your adoption, your relationship with him, none of it. This sort of honesty is brand new territory for you both. 
You’re not so sure you’re loving the development. 
“When they committed to it, I thought they’d bring home a baby, a kid, not some weird, skittish fourteen year old who wanted nothing to do with me.” 
Ah.
Your cheeks heat, and you find yourself wishing you were anywhere but here. If Heisuke notices how you shift in your seat, the small tightening of your expression, he plows on regardless.
“You wouldn’t look at me, would barely talk to me. Hell, you acted like I had the plague most of the time. You didn’t hate me, I don’t think, you just… didn’t want to be anywhere near me, and it bugged the hell out of me. I couldn’t figure it out; who wouldn’t want an older brother to look out for them?” His next words hit you like a sledgehammer, cracking at something vital in your chest. It hurts before he opens his mouth.
“It was them, wasn’t it? The reason you steered clear ‘til I moved out of home.”
“Heis–”
He cuts you off with a look. “I’m right, aren’t I?” he demands. 
“Can we just– it doesn’t matter, alright? Can we move on?”
From the unhappy set of his jaw – the first true sign of discontent he’s expressed since getting in the car with you – it’s obvious there’s more he wants to say. You can’t blame him for that, curiosity’s only human. 
But you’re still too raw. It’s too soon.
You’ve spent too long burying those secrets deep to rip yourself apart to bring them to light. 
“Please, Hei. Let’s focus on mom’s birthday.” You force a smile, tiny and wrong, “The florist is next, yeah?” 
You get a grunt of acknowledgement and not much more than that, your brother’s attention pulling back to the drive. The silence that settles in the car should bring some relief. It’s what you wanted, and yet, amongst the churning feeling in your guts, the prickling at the back of your neck that hasn’t left you since you first spotted Iwa across the road, there’s a sense of discomfort that has nothing to do with crossing paths with your past life. 
Like a slap in the face, it hits you that you’re floundering for something to say, something – anything – to bridge the sudden, stark divide between you. Something that won’t sound hollow and meaningless. 
This thing you have with Heisuke. It took years, and maybe it’s skin deep and miles from what it should be, but the thought of losing it leaves you feeling oddly panicked.
It’ll… hurt.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble, because it’s about all you can give him right now, a tried and true method of soothing egos and hurt. 
Heisuke doesn’t say anything for the remainder of the drive, and you resign yourself to the very real possibility that in the course of a single conversation, you’ve managed to fracture this fragile thing between you two. 
Until you go for the door, and a hand on your wrist stops you. “Hey. I’m glad they did.”
When you startle awake a little after midnight, it’s because he’s yelling again. 
Mr. Furukawa had been in fine form at dinner, already three beers deep. You can only begin to imagine what’s set him off now, hours after lights out. His wife, probably. Although it’s equally possible he’s caught the oldest sneaking back in from seeing his girlfriend, or the twins trying to break into the pantry for a midnight snack. Or he tripped and stubbed his toe, or thought someone stole the rest of his beer when in reality he’d already swallowed it down. 
The reasons don’t really matter when he’s been drinking like that, in the same way that the initial target of his ire doesn’t matter. Once his voice reaches that slurred, furious pitch, anyone’s fair game.
There’s a pair of headphones in the top drawer, you have every intention of yanking them out and putting on one of your sleep playlists, drowning out the noise of your foster father’s drunken raging until he wears himself out or you fall back to sleep when you hear the thumping of his feet on the staircase.
“Where’s that fucking bitch?”
Eyes wide in the darkness, clutching at the comforter, your pulse jumps.
Again, it’s possible he’s talking about Mrs. Furukawa, or one of your foster sisters – the older one hunched over in the bed opposite yours, watching you shrewdly.
“Well go on then,” she sneers. “Run to your big brothers.”
You don’t bother to respond, any hesitation you might’ve had over leaving her to fend for herself shrivelling up under the mocking bitterness she’s sending your way. Fine, whatever. You don’t care what she thinks, scrambling from the warmth of your bed and hurrying for the door.
He’s halfway up the staircase when you reach their room. You’d knock – it’s the polite thing to do – except you definitely don’t want to be out in plain view when your foster father hits the landing. 
“Hajime?” you whisper into the darkness, slipping inside and shutting the door behind you, “Tooru?”
“Shit, c’mere.” At Hajime’s voice, the calloused, rough hands that guide you onto his mattress, the vice around your chest loosens. He won’t come in here, not after Hajime socked him in the face after catching sight of the raised, discoloured flesh of your cheek from your last run in. You’ve gotten better at using make-up to conceal the marks since then, but there’s also been less of a need for it.
“Can I stay for a bit?” you ask. Until he calms down and passes out. Until the sun rises and you can sneak back into your room. Until you feel safe again. It’s kind of a pointless question, considering how many times you’ve done this before and how many times they’ve let you. You ask it anyway.
The scoff that sounds moments before the mattress dips on your other side is answer enough. “You should probably just move in at this point. We’ll kick Iwa out, he can go sleep in bitch-face’s room.”
Although you know you shouldn’t, a not-so-nice grin tugs at your lips, nestling into Tooru’s side under the arm he offers, “She’d drive him homicidal in a week.”
“Doesn’t she already?” Hajime mutters. “And fuck off, if anyone’s moving out it’s you.” 
“You’d miss me too much.”
Absentmindedly, he rubs at your arm like it’s second nature. “In your dreams, Shitty-kawa.”
You can still hear Mr. Furukawa stomping around outside, snarling and snapping at no-one and nothing. Your pulse skitters, an inbuilt panic response. But the lights are off, you’re not being too noisy, and he’s wary of the other two.
He won’t come in here. 
“Relax, we’ve got you,” Tooru breathes, his nose nudging at your temple. “Where were you this afternoon?” His voice is so soft, a soothing rumble that it takes you a second to register what he’s said. 
“This afternoon?”
“Mm. You didn’t come home when you were supposed to. We were worried.”
He’s pouting, you can tell. Which– he can’t be genuinely bothered by it, it was only a few hours, and the Furukawas don’t care where you are or what you do so long as you’re back before curfew. You were. 
A distraction then?
“I went out with some friends. We hung out at the arcade for a bit,” your expression brightens, thinking of the lights and the laughter, your feet blurring as you hit the sensors on Dance Dance Revolution… poorly. “It was actually pretty fun!”
Tooru hums again, “Which friends?” at the same time that Hajime says, “You didn’t tell us you were going out.”
“I didn’t realise I had to check in.” And because the slightly bitter and very defensive edge to your tone catches even you by surprise, you sigh, softening. “I’m allowed to have friends, aren’t I? A social life?”
You’ve been in this home for a few months now, and this is the first time any of your classmates have invited you anywhere. 
This time it’s Tooru who sighs. He coaxes your face upwards with a hand on your cheek, peering through the dim light at you, “I’m not saying this to be cruel or hurt you, but… I need you to be more careful, okay?”
You frown, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
His thumb glides across your cheek bone, hesitating on whatever it is he wants to say– at least until Hajime huffs and mutters, “Just tell her, dude. You’re the one that brought it up.”
“Tell me what?”
“You’re a foster kid,” he reminds you, as if this is vital information that’s somehow slipped your mind. “That’s all they see when they look at us, all they’ll ever see. No money, no family, nothing worth wasting their time on. We’re charity cases at best, at worst…” he trails off, the sentence dangling in the air. 
He thinks it’s a trick, you realise. He thinks they’re setting you up in an elaborate joke where you’re the punchline. 
Bright blue eyes and a crooked grin flash in your head. Cheeks dusted pink and the warmth of his hand in yours. 
“That’s not true,” you defend, though the words sound weak even to your ears. 
Now that your eyes have adjusted to the dark, the gentle, pitying expression on his face twists at your insides like a knife. You hardly notice Hajime scooching closer, shifting the blankets so they cover you both, too busy staring at your foster brother with wide eyes and parted lips, a thick lump of emotion lodging itself in your throat. Tears prickle in the corners of your eyes, and you blink them back.
You won’t cry in front of them over this. You refuse.
“No? You’ve been here for months now. If they wanted to be your friend, truly, genuinely wanted that, why haven’t they made an effort before now? I’m not trying to be a dick,” he murmurs when your breathing hitches, “The kids in this town, they’re assholes. I just can’t bear the thought of someone hurting you.”
Hajime nods. “We only wanna protect you, imouto.”
But you don’t need to be protected. Omori isn’t like that. His friends aren’t either. 
When the last bell rings for the day, you walk down to the gates to find Hajime there, leaning against the brickwork with a pilfered cigarette dangling between his fingers. 
That in and of itself isn’t a surprise. Lately they’ve taken up the habit of ditching their last period to make the half mile trek to your school in order to walk back home with you. Most days, you don’t mind. Today, however–
“I sent you a message at lunch, you didn’t need to come all the way down here, I’m going to a friend’s place to study. Sorry, I thought you would’ve seen it before you left.”
He drops the cherry red remnants of his cigarette to the ground and grinds the butt under his heel, eyeing you slowly from head to toe. “Which friend?”
“When did you become so nosey?” you laugh, a touch uneasily. “It’s only for an hour or so, I’ll be back before dinner, promise. I’m all yours after that.” The last part’s meant to lighten the mood a little, yet something flashes in his eyes, a twitch in his jaw, and you get the sense that he doesn’t find it all that funny. 
“Which friend? That slimy piece of shit you were hanging out with last weekend?”
Omori? How does he–
You frown, “We went to the movies, Hajime, it’s not illegal. And he’s not slimy or a little shit, he’s my friend.” A friend who sets butterflies loose in your stomach and makes you weak at the knees, but Hajime doesn’t need to know that. 
“Oh, I’m sure he wants to be your friend,” he mutters darkly. 
Your cheeks burn hotly, “Why are you being like this? He’s a nice guy. Besides, it’s not him. I’m going to Masako’s to work on a group presentation we’ve got due in a few days. I didn’t think you’d make such a big deal out of it!”
“Your mistake,” he says, as if you’re the one being unreasonable here, and before you can spit out a retort, his hand is curled around your bicep, tugging you down the road. “C’mon, we’re going home. Tell your little friend you can work on your project tomorrow at lunch.” 
“Ha-Hajime!” His too tight grip on you doesn’t relent, his stride doesn’t falter. Nervously, you dart a glance around, half hoping that someone will intercede, all the while praying that no one’s actually noticed him dragging you off like a misbehaving toddler.
As always, you’re not that lucky. The sight of your classmates pointing your way, giggling behind their hands sends a hot pulse of shame flooding through you. 
“You know you’re not my actual brother, I don’t need your permission!” 
That does stop him, turning back around to throw a scowl at you, “No? Because I don’t see anyone else lining up to stop you from spreading your legs for the first asshole who comes sniffing around. Jesus Christ, weren’t you listening the other day?”
“I’m fourteen!” you shriek, ripping your arm away from him. “Stop being gross and leave me alone, I already told you I’m going to Masako’s. We have a project. For school!”
In an instant, he closes the gap between you. Hajime isn’t as tall as Tooru, but at two years older, he still towers over you, all broad shouldered and intense, and while he’s always cut an intimidating figure, it strikes you that this is the first time you’ve ever looked at him and felt afraid.
A split second later, and he exhales with a mumbled curse, the tension deflating from his body like a pin’s been pulled. In a quieter voice, hooking an arm over your neck to press a fleeting kiss to your hair, he says, “Sometimes it feels like I’m losing my damn mind trying to keep us all safe and sane and fucking together.”
It’s not exactly an apology. Still…you shift on your feet, nibbling at your bottom lip. “I’m sorry for snapping,” you mumble – an olive branch, even if you’re not feeling particularly charitable right now. The problem is, you do understand where he’s coming from. In two years, they’ll both age out, free to go and do whatever the hell they want. There’s a not insignificant part of you that’s terrified that when that time comes, they’re not gonna hang around another two years waiting for you. 
You’re not sure you can hold them to that promise. 
And that’s if nothing happens before then. Foster kids in group homes get shuffled all the time, there’s no guarantee all three of you will still be with the Furukawas come their 18th birthdays. 
Of course he’s over-protective. Of course he’s being a little nuts about it. 
Hajime nods, pats you on the head and gives you a rare smile, “Good. Now get your ass moving, we gotta get home.”
“Wait, but I thought–” you’d apologised, he’d admitted he was overreacting… sort of. Isn’t that enough?
“Social worker’s coming by this afternoon. Furukawa wants us to play happy families ‘til they’re gone. Your friend’s gonna have to wait.”
And that’s that. 
Dejection washes over you, trudging back home with Hajime – trying not to be childish and petty and hold it against him.
The social worker never shows, but there’s a message waiting on your phone when you finally manage to pry yourself away from Hajime and Tooru.
Your brother’s a dick. Raincheck? ;)
Butterflies erupt. 
You’ve been biting your lip again.
The raw, chapped evidence stares back at you in the mirror. 
A few days ago, they were a little swollen, rough and reddened. The sight of it sent a giddy sort of thrill through you, a physical – if not sore – reminder of your afternoon spent kissing a cute boy with very pretty blue eyes. 
Now, the state of your lips is the least of your worries. You’ll bite your lips, gnaw on your fingernails right down to the quick, pace and think and pace and think, fingers tap, tap tapping at your side.
“You look tired.” 
The arms that loop around your shoulders, dragging you back into a loose hug don’t bring the sense of comfort they usually do. Things have been weird between you. Off.
Ever since Tooru caught sight of your face that day, saw the messages on your phone. 
‘I never took you for a liar, imouto.’
The resultant argument left you choking on sobs, heart-broken and beaten down in a way that you haven’t felt since you found out your parents died. 
It’s a strange, alienating thing to be cut so viciously by the only people who give a damn about you.
At first, you had Omori there to help pick up the pieces. He wasn’t allowed over, of course, and even if he were, you doubt it’d do anything but throw a whole gallon of kerosene on the fire. Still, being able to message and vent to him felt like a lifeline. 
And then he simply… stopped replying. Your last message sitting there for two days on read.
You tried not to feel hurt. Maybe this whole thing was too intense, too quick. My god, you weren’t even dating officially, he was just, you were–
It was fine. Not everyone’s tied to their phone, and he doesn’t owe you anything. Maybe something came up, maybe his phone died.
But then, come Monday, he wasn’t in school.
On Tuesday morning, sitting in first period maths, a grim-faced man in a dull suit informs your class that Omori’s been missing since Saturday morning. You’re passed a business card with the detective’s name and phone number printed in crisp, black font and encouraged to contact him if there’s anything you can think of that might help them.
Uneasy looks are shared. No one says a word.
Which brings you to today, to the hug Tooru’s drawn you into and his voice murmuring at your ear. 
“Aren’t you still mad at me?”
His laugh rumbles at your back, “Maybe I miss you too much.”
You should tell him to shove it. Whether you’re in the right or the wrong, it’s not fair of him to play hot and cold with you like this. Being at odds with your brothers is painful enough on its own, dealing with that on top of everything with Omori – it’s too much. You’ll drown under the weight of it.
And so you turn, wrapping your arms around his middle and burying yourself against him. “I don’t wanna fight anymore. I’m sorry.”
While he doesn’t say anything back, he does squeeze you that little bit tighter. You’re content with that, soaking up the affection and comfort you’ve sorely been without. It’s an apology, yes. It’s also forgiveness. 
“Where’s Hajime?” you ask after a little while. They aren’t inseparable by any means, but you don’t think you’ve seen him this afternoon at all. 
Rather than answering you, the brunet pulls back enough to meet your gaze, a twinkle in his eyes, “We’re going out tonight.”
The words bring you up short. “But–”
“Furukawa won’t know a thing. It’ll be fun, pinky promise.” He holds out said pinky, the grin on his face infectious enough that you offer a tiny one of your own, locking your finger around his.
He winks. 
“Sweetheart, shall we open the wine?”
She hasn’t stopped beaming all afternoon, delighted at the flowers and the gifts, your dad humming away in the kitchen, cooking enough to feed a small army.  
Heisuke’s already plucking a bottle from the fridge, glasses set out on the counter. He lifts a questioning brow in your direction and you nod with as much of a smile as you can muster. Nothing sounds more appealing to you right now than a drink.
Several of them, actually. You’ll start with one.
“Thanks,” you murmur when he passes it to you. 
Quietly enough that your parents won’t hear, he asks, “You good?”
“I’m good,” you reassure him, lying through your teeth. His knuckles knock against yours, and when you glance up, there’s a wordless promise that the two of you aren’t done with this. 
He’s been watching you ever since you got home. Not in the predatory, possessive way they used to, just… you very reluctantly gave him crumbs – not even that much – yet he’s staring at you like you’re a piece of a puzzle he’s desperate to solve. He’s looking at you like he’s seeing you for the first time, and you don’t know how to deal with it. 
It makes you nervous.
“Did something happen between you two?” The quiet voice at your side startles you – perhaps you’re more on edge than you’d like to admit, because your whole body flinches, the wine in your glass sloshing up over the rim, just barely avoiding your dress and the edge of the couch. 
You hadn’t even noticed your mom had sat down.
Cursing under your breath, you jump up before she can, snatching some paper towels from the kitchen, paying no mind the slight, disapproving tilt to your father’s mein (the one which, to his credit, he does try to hide) to mop up the mess on the floor.
“Sorry,” you throw out, both for the spill and for swearing, because that too is something neither of your parents are fond of, but your mom’s quick to wave it away.
“Nonsense. You’re fine, sweet girl. Come, sit!” She pats the seat you’ve vacated. “Relax.”
Your dad’s in the kitchen, laughing with Hei. Your mom’s still happy – it’s slowly leaching from her eyes the longer she looks at you, the more she sees. Relax. 
Today’s supposed to be a happy day.
Relax. 
You can’t.
They know some of your past. Bits and pieces. 
In ten years, you’ve never uttered a single word about them. Not to anyone. 
The more you shove it down, the more it fights back, bubbling away inside of you like the tempest of a storm. You can feel yourself cracking, unshed tears burning at your eyes. 
You can’t.
“… Mom–”
A knock cuts through the rising tide of emotion battering through you, and all four of you start. 
Your dad moves first, drying his hands and striding on over to answer it. On his way, he glances to where you and your mom are sitting – instinctively. Unthinkingly. He glances her way a thousand times a day – to check in, to see what she’s doing, to catch those little expressions she makes, only this time he isn’t met with the picture of a happy wife and daughter. You see it when it hits him, the tension, your wrought expression, the hand your mom’s slipped you in the seconds since, holding you tight and keeping you tethered.
You see it when he does a double take, sharp surprise quickly overtaken by alarm. 
Another knock at the door. Louder. 
His head snaps back towards the door, glaring at it like it’s personally wronged him. “One sec,” he mutters to no one in particular, and your mom squeezes your hand as he yanks it open with a touch more force than necessary.
“Yes?”
The air punches out of your lungs.
From where you’re sitting, the door cracked ajar, your dad’s frame blocking the gap, you can’t see who’s there. Not until he peeks over your dad’s shoulder, his charming grin widening into something shark-like and predatory when he spots you, delighted. 
An elevator careening out of control, your stomach plummets.
Ignoring your dad – your family as a whole – entirely, Oikawa addresses you. “You dropped this this morning. Clumsy girl.” 
Iwa passes him something, your wallet, you realise when he holds it out to you, waving it like a dog treat. 
Your wallet with your ID, this address, tucked away inside. 
The wallet you absolutely, in no way dropped. 
Primarily on instinct, shaking like a newborn foal, you start to rise, to stumble forward and take it from him, only it’s Heisuke who moves first. Angrier than you think you’ve ever seen him, he plants himself between you, one arm outstretched as if to keep you back, his withering gaze fixed on the duo.
“Thank you for returning it,” he bites out. “You can leave now.”
For your parents, already on edge, suspicious by their familiarity and your reaction to it, it’s enough to set their hackles up. Gone is any semblance of politeness when your father snatches your wallet from Oikawa’s fingers, “Go.”
Up until now, Oikawa’s paid them all the attention one would a gnat, an annoyance maybe, but one hardly worth acknowledging. That changes as his head tilts, dark eyes appraising your father. 
“What’s the rush?” he asks, reaching behind him. You can’t see it, what with your dad and now Heisuke standing between you, but there’s movement, your dad lets out a sudden, choked off gurgle, lurching back inside. 
Your eyes widen, a bone chilling horror taking hold of you as you spy the sleek black handle of a knife sticking out his gut, a slow stain of red seeping out around it. 
“We’ve still got so much catching up to do.”
You’ve never been this far into the woods before.
Stars glitter overhead, condensation from your breath puffing out with every exhale. It’s cold out. The path you’re walking isn’t one of the trails they lay for hikers and tourists, and you’ve been walking for a while. 
Still, Tooru’s hand is warm entwined with yours, and there’s that wicked thrill in your belly that comes from breaking the rules, doing secret, exciting things in the dead of night.
“Is Hajime waiting for us?” you ask, when you can hold the question back no longer.
“Always Hajime with you, isn’t it,” he teases. “Y’know, a guy could develop a complex with all this favouritism being thrown around.”
You’re pulled closer into his side even as he says it, and you go happily. You’ve got your brothers back – tonight you’re only thinking good thoughts. 
Tonight he promised you fun.
A giddy bounce in your step, you follow where your big brother leads until you spot a glow in the trees ahead, smell the smoke on the mid-autumn breeze.
Tooru grins in the dark, “Have you ever been to a bonfire?”
You shake your head. 
It takes another few minutes before you can see the fire in all its grandeur, Hajime standing off to the side, warming his hands against the flames. They dance through the clearing, bright and high and hot, hot enough that you briefly consider shedding the jacket Tooru swaddled you up in before you left.
A bonfire? 
They built this for you?
You look incredulously to Tooru, “This is where he’s been all day?”
“More or less.”
“Do you like it, pretty girl?” Hajime calls out when you’re closer. Your hand slips from Tooru’s as you leap forward, allowing him to catch you in his arms and tug you against him, and like earlier with Tooru, it eases some of the hurt weighing you down. He’s here, he’s not angry anymore, you can fight and argue like siblings but they aren’t going anywhere. 
He presses a kiss to your forehead, smoothing down your hair. “It’s pretty cool,” you tell him with a decisive nod, making him chuckle. 
“Maybe we should add more accelerant,” Tooru says, eyeing the flames with a considering look. “I don’t know if it’s hot enough.”
Hajime scoffs, “We don’t need any more accelerant.”
“But–”
“It’s fine, dumbass. Leave it.”
Heaving out a long suffering sigh, Tooru takes the space on your other side. In the Western movies you’ve seen, these bonfire things usually have more of a party-like vibe. There’s music and dancing. Drinking. This is something wholly different.
You don’t mind the quiet, though, sitting between your brothers on the fallen log they dragged over. Listening to the crackle of the fire. Watching red embers spark and fly off into the night. 
You’ve missed this. Them. 
In the hypnosis of the fire, the heat that covers you like a blanket – burning strongly enough, despite what Tooru thinks, that down to a tee-shirt, leaning into Hajime’s side, Tooru playing with your fingers, you feel you could so easily drift off to sleep, sated and content.
“You love us, don’t you?” Tooru says it so quietly, so off-handedly, that for a moment you don’t hear the stinging accusation beneath the words. 
When it does, whatever fleeting contentment you’d managed to wrap yourself up in is ripped away, leaving you cold and exposed. 
A slap in the face might’ve stung less.
You gape at him. At the both of them. “How can you ask me that?”
Tooru shrugs, casual and cruel, “I dunno. You lied to us. Multiple times.”
“Snuck around behind our backs,” Hajime adds.
“Kept things from us. Don’t think we haven’t noticed the new lock on your phone, imouto. Doesn’t sound like love to me.”
“I– I’ve already apologised.” You try to keep your voice calm and level, but with every word that pours out of you, the faster your heart beats and the more distress leaks into your tone. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I lied, I’m sorry I went behind your backs, I’m sorry I kissed him! I don’t know what you want from me, I don’t know how to fix this!” 
Hot tears spring to your eyes, stinging as you ferociously blink them back. 
If you start crying now, they’ll probably just mock you. That, or they’ll claim that you’re trying to manipulate them into feeling bad with crocodile tears and hiccuping sniffles. 
In a tiny voice, you say, “I didn’t do any of it to hurt you. Please,” you beg helplessly. “You can’t keep holding it over my head and punishing me for it.”
“You think we’re punishing you?” Tooru asks, still in that cold, flat tone that makes you want to sob.
Aren’t they? Sure feels like it.
Hajime lets out a heavy exhale, shaking his head and staring up at the night sky. “You still don’t fucking get it.” 
Hands slip under your armpits and without warning you find yourself hoisted onto Tooru’s lap. It’s whiplash, especially when he curls around you, those lithe arms caging you in, and presses a kiss to your burning cheek. “Iwa, brute that he is, is right. You’re not listening to us. This isn’t punishment. You can pretend to hate us, cry, yell, fight. You can try to shut us out if that’s what you feel you need, but this,” his chin juts out at the bonfire crackling merrily a few feet away, “this is love.” He shivers as he says it, voice like honey. “We did it for you, and I’d do so much more.”
Your head’s still spinning, reeling from being yanked from one extreme to another. Hot and cold. Spiteful to affectionate. You stare at the fire, but you don’t understand. 
“Yeah, like you didn’t enjoy the hell out of it,” Hajime snorts, which makes even less sense.
“…You mean the– the bonfire?”
Tooru laughs. His nose skims along the shell of your ear, earning him a shiver of your own. “Hm, almost.”
So you peer at the fire like it’s supposed to give you the answers you need. There’s nothing. It’s a fire, there’s nothing special about…
Oh.
You learn forward – as much as the cage of his embrace will allow, at any rate – squinting a little. Nestled beneath the stacked logs and kindling, there’s an oddly shaped lump, black and gnarled, with ridges and a scooped out hollow that kinda looks like–
Your blood runs cold. 
“What’s the matter, baby?” he croons. “You’ve been so sad all week, wondering where your friend up and disappeared to. Aren’t you glad to see him again?”
“No.” Whisper soft, the noise lost to the crackling of the fire. You shake your head, “This– you’re being cruel. Stop it, it’s not funny.” 
But the tears you’ve so valiantly held back are falling, your breath coming in short, panicky gasps. The skull in the fire doesn’t look fake, and if this is a prank, it’s gone beyond too far.
Your head grows light and all too heavy at the same time, “That isn’t– you didn’t– you… you– you wouldn’t–”
“No?” the voice at your ear questions, low and dangerous. “You think I wouldn’t stab the little fuck after you kissed him?”
“Stop it,” you tearfully beg, squeezing your eyes shut. The skull’s still there, burned into the back of your eyelids. 
No, no, no. Omori isn’t dead. 
Omori isn’t dead.
Your heart slams against your ribs, a violent chorus to the swell of sick dread and fear you’re desperately trying to tamp down. Omori isn’t dead!
“STOP IT!” 
They wouldn’t kill him. 
The crunch of footsteps sounds, and you don’t need your vision to know that Hajime’s now crouching in front of you. When rough fingers seize your jaw, holding you in place, and he leans in close, almost nose to nose, they fly open regardless. 
“You ever try that shit again, and next time we’ll drag you by the fucking hair and do it in front of you,” he promises, calm despite the fury that rages in his eyes. 
Caged between them, Hajime appraises you, taking in your hysteria, the tears dripping down your face, your bottom lip quivering – as though he’s committing the sight to memory. His eyes dart to Tooru’s for a brief second, the latter squeezing your side, before he speaks. “If you’d listened to us in the first place, this wouldn’t have happened. Don’t make us into monsters, sweetheart.”
Your fault is what you hear. 
There’s a loud pop from the fire, and you lose it entirely. 
You explode. Elbows flying, kicking, clawing. A wild, terrified, desperate thing, and it takes them by surprise – enough to catch Tooru in the gut, loosening his grip. Enough to knock Hajime back onto his ass. A gap, however small, for you to scramble to your knees, violently kicking back when a hand snatches at your ankle, and flee through the woods in the dark, away from the furious shouts, the raging footsteps chasing after you. 
You run and your lungs burn, heaving for every breath. 
The light of the bonfire disappears behind you, plunging the forest into an inky black, and the shouts and yells turn into calls of your name, then coaxing pleas, almost sounding worried. Eventually, those grow distant too, and fade away altogether. 
You keep running, uncertain of where you’re going. No, blind to it entirely. All that matters is keeping out of their reach. You’ll run to the ends of the earth if you have to. 
And so you push until your legs scream for a reprieve, until you taste iron on your tongue and when your body can keep the pace no longer, you stumble through the underbrush, tripping over roots and branches instead, pausing every once in a while to lean against a tree and catch your breath. 
As your adrenaline fades and the sweat dampening your clothes cools, the cold night air bites like needles at your skin, you start to shiver, rubbing at your exposed arms in an effort to generate a little warmth. Bitterly, you remember that the jacket that you’d brought, the one Tooru had all but forced on you before you’d left, is back at the bonfire, slung over a nearby log. Useless to you now. 
But the shivers that wrack your body aren’t solely from the dropping temperature.
Every snapping branch, hoot of an owl, rustle of leaves sends a fresh wave of terror spiking through you. You think of Tooru’s cruel smirk and Hajime’s bruising grip, of Omori’s skull staring back at you from the fire, flesh melted to the bone, black and twisted, and a ragged, distraught sob brings you to your knees.
Hopelessly lost, cold, frightened and alone, you curl into the dirt and cry. 
Hikers find you at dawn. 
Emergency services are called – an ambulance to take you to the nearest hospital to be poked and prodded, police to question why a fourteen year old girl was wandering the woods alone at night.
They treat you for dehydration and mild hypothermia, a few small cuts and scrapes, and when a soft spoken nurse pulls the curtain around your bed and gently asks if you’d like them to perform a rape kit, you blanch and shake your head. Eventually, they allow the detective into the room. In his late forties, bespectacled, a smattering of grey dusted throughout his close cropped black hair, he pulls up a chair beside the bed and patiently asks how you’re feeling.
If you were a better person, you’d tell him everything. The Furukawas’ abuse, your foster brothers’ increasingly overprotective behaviour, sneaking behind their back to see Omori and the fight that followed that nearly ripped you apart. 
The bonfire.
Your fault, your fault, your fault.
Omori deserves that much. His parents should know what happened to their son.
Your jacket lying forgotten by his bones. 
“Please don’t take me back there,” you mumble, tears shining in your eyes. 
Back to the woods, or the Furukawas. Back to the boys you’d loved who’d murdered for you.
In the end, it doesn’t really matter that that’s all they can get out of you. A traumatised teenager found miles from home without a single soul raising the alarm would be one thing. When that traumatised teenager’s a girl supposedly under the care of government approved guardians, it raises red flags not even they can ignore.
By lunch, they’ve arranged for you to be placed back in an all-girl orphanage until a more suitable, long term solution can be found.
Some nights you dream that you’re back there, in their bedroom at the Furukawas’. It’s dark and cozy, there’s an arm slung over your waist and you find yourself drifting off to the steady beat of the heart behind you, soft snores by your ear.
They’re nice dreams. You feel safe, loved. 
Tucked away in your subconscious, nothing exists but the sanctuary of them, and when you inevitably feel that tug of awareness coaxing you awake, you sink your fingers in and cling to it for dear life. 
Just another minute. Another few seconds. Please.
Right now, you’d give anything to wake up and have this be nothing more than a nightmare you can banish. 
But there’s no escaping this one. Your dad’s on the living room floor by the couch, hunkered over, pale and sweaty, pressing what was once a clean dish towel to the wound in his stomach. The coffee table’s been pushed to the side, Heisuke and your mom sat on the chairs Oikawa dragged into its place, ankles zip-tied to the legs, wrists bound, duct tape slapped across both of their mouths. Between the knife Oikawa idly toys with, still wet with blood, the handgun held loosely in Iwa’s palm and your dad slowly bleeding out on the floor, they’ve been compliant. 
Much like you have, although you’re neither bound nor gagged, sitting in the armchair Iwa ushered you to, arms looped around your knees with the man himself perched against the backrest.
The only one of you making any kind of noise at all is your dad, his voice a slurring mumble, words near intelligible. He’s begging, you can tell that much. Pleading through gritted teeth for them to let you go, not to hurt you, your mom, Hei. 
You desperately wanna tell him to save his breath, but you can’t even look at him – at any of them – without wanting to throw up.
“Do you still love us, imouto?”
Your eyes track Oikawa as he leans over the two chairs, the edge of his knife carelessly poised above Heisuke’s shoulder. From your periphery you see him flinch and stiffen, the sharp uptick of his breath smothered by duct tape, but you don’t dare shift your attention from the brunet smiling genially back at you.
Your heart squeezes, clenched by an invisible fist. Buried deep beneath the guilt and the paralysing dread, a slightly hysterical part of you almost wants to laugh. 
“Do you think I could ever stop?” 
Surprise flashes in his eyes and his grin widens. “You ran,” he accuses.
“You ran again this morning,” Iwa adds, sounding far less amused.
“I was scared.”
“Of us?” Iwa slides off the back of the couch, straightening up. In an instant, his hand’s wrapped around your throat, the broad pad of his thumb forcing your jaw upwards. “You think we’d ever fucking hurt you?” he growls, looking genuinely angry. 
Distantly you register the sound of Heisuke’s muffled indignation, another gasping wheeze from your dad, but all that fades to the background as Iwa’s mouth crashes against yours.
He doesn’t kiss you sweetly. It’s invasive, rough. His hand flexes around your throat, forcing a gasp to drive his tongue between your lips, and you can feel every ounce of possession, of pent up need and frustration as he drags it on despite the awkward angle. 
When he does break away, eyes darkened and simmering, he holds your gaze, ignoring the pointed throat clearing from the other side of the room. “Never,” he swears, waiting for you to nod before finally relaxing his grip. “Good girl.” To Oikawa, watching you both with a barely constrained hunger, he says, “Enough screwing around. Do it and let’s go.”
Oikawa huffs, rolling his eyes, “Fine. Should’ve known you’d get all impatient after you had a taste.”
“Like you’re not?”
There’s not enough air in the room, your heart’s doing somersaults in your chest, your pulse hammering through your veins. Oikawa stares at you, head tilted, the corner of his lip slowly curling up as you start to tremble, shaking your head, tears beading at your lashes, “I guess we could hurry it along.”
“No, please–” 
“Shh, sweet girl. It’s okay.” You try to stand up, but Iwa takes a hold of your shoulder and forces you back down. “Me and Iwa, we were gonna give you a choice. Let you pick. If you could kill one of them, we’d let the other two go.”
A strangled sob rips its way free, your whole body shuddering with the force of it.
“Hey, hey, it’s alright. We’re not gonna make you do that,” he comforts, side-stepping your now thrashing brother to make his way over towards you. “Cause the thing is, they kept you from us. Lied to you. Manipulated you. Whether they meant to or not, they hurt you. I don’t think they deserve that kind of mercy, do you?”
“No, no, no, please! Please don’t, please don’t hurt them–”
Abandoning his knife, he drops to a crouch in front of you, “We’re gonna make it right, and then we’ll go home, okay? We’ll take care of it.”
“Please, Tooru! I’ll do anything!”
There’s a kiss pressed to the crown of your head, the cushion behind your back being tugged free. “You don’t need to do anything,” Iwa says, the cold cocking of his gun echoing like a death knell.
 “We love you. This one’s on us.”
490 notes · View notes
luvring · 2 years
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— clingy boyfriends
gn!reader | oikawa, kenma, akaashi, suna, atsumu, timeskip!sakusa
warnings: mention of sakusa being drunk
technically all of them are aged up but sakusa's has manga spoilers!
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OIKAWA is lying on top of you when you try to push him off. “i will literally die if you try to leave me.” you groan to try to hide your laugh. “really, tooru?” “yes,” he says, getting up so he’s in a planking position above you. “i’d get up just to drop dead on the floor. it’s always the spouse, you know.” the both of you stare at each other. it’s the perfect opportunity, really, if you tried to roll out of the way. but oikawa’s quicker than you, and he drops back down before you can shuffle even half a foot. his arms wrap around you as he rolls onto his side, pulling you against his chest. “you’re so annoying,” you laugh. he grins as he presses kisses on your shoulder, “but you love me. and you’re stuck with me until i’m ready to get up.”
KENMA groans, his hold tightening, when he feels you try to shuffle out of bed. “ken, ‘m hungry,” you whine. he only nuzzles closer into your neck before responding, “order food then.” you stare at him even though you know he can’t see you. “then what? tell them to somehow unlock the door and find us upstairs?” he hums in return, letting out a deep breath against your skin. “you know where the spare key is.” the thought gets a surprised laugh to escape you and you can feel kenma try to stop his own. “we can go down together in a few minutes. please?” you huff lightly and let your fingers start to brush through his hair. “okay, but if you fall asleep i’m going without you,” you say, knowing full well he’d wake up just to cling onto you longer.
KEIJI stretches and yawns before looking over at you beside him. “g’mornin’,” he greets you before placing his arm around your waist. and you know what's happening when he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. “keiji—” he hums, leaving a kiss against your jaw. “we have to get up,” you whine. he huffs a breath against your skin. “no we don’t, and you know it. it’s saturday.” “you don’t want breakfast?” “we can get brunch,” he replies easily. “i’ll cook our favourites.” there isn’t much to argue with when he’s warmer and more comfortable, and the sun is peaking through the blinds just enough. and keiji knows he’s won when he looks up at you with a soft smile. “stay with me?” you breathe out and mumble an “okay,” before letting yourself cuddle further into him and the blanket. he kisses your face once, twice, three times before pulling away. "love you."
SUNA frowns and looks up at you, his head still nuzzled into the crook of your neck, as soon as he doesn't feel you playing with his hair. “why’d you stop?” you spare a glance before waving your phone slightly. “‘cause i was typing?” “type with one hand then." he grabs the hand previously putting him to sleep and places it back on his head. “rin—god, okay,” you laugh. slowly, you start to comb through his hair again and feel his deep breath against your skin. “clingy baby.” he hums and smiles before placing a lazy kiss against your collarbone. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.” “oh yeah? so you’d let me leave right now?” suna pulls away from you, only to bump his nose against your cheek. his breath is warm as he whispers, “you wouldn’t dare.”
ATSUMU swings your arms side to side and whines, “baby, please?” you respond with a light but drawn out tone, “i can’t come with you to practice, babe.” he frowns, pulling your hands up so he could play with them in front of you. “i’ll quit my job then.” “wh—” your sentence is cut short by a snort as you suddenly let go of him. he pouts at the lost contact, pouting more at your reply. “sure you will, tsumu. i couldn’t take you from volleyball even if i had a billion dollars.” but atsumu sighs, knowing you were ultimately right. so he takes a step closer and leans his forehead against yours. his voice is softer now. “but ‘m gonna miss you.” slowly, you pull him into a hug and let him wrap his arms around you. “i’ll see you after, okay?” “fine, but i’m not letting ya go until tomorrow morning,” he says. your lips twitch into a smile at his promise. “okay, tsum.”
SAKUSA wishes his teammates would leave his house right now only half-jokingly. “if only fans could see how clingy yer boyfriend is,” atsumu sighs as he sits across from you in the living room. you look down at your boyfriend at the mention and smile as he pouts against you. maybe he drank a little more than usual, his face flushed as his arms trap you against the couch. “ooh, it’d probably help with publicity,” hinata teases. sakusa only moves further into you as he groans. deciding to have a little mercy, you finally reply. “cuddly ‘omi’s for me only, actually.” at the sound of your voice, he tilts his head to glance at you before kissing your collarbone. sighing, he mumbles quietly, “thank you.” “gross.” at that, sakusa finally lets go for a second, turning around to shoot a glare at his teammate. “get out of here, atsumu.”
🏷️ couldn't tag | @devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @missyasma @thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @leexshin @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtc @dimslover @kuroaka @vampyrkookie
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teddybeartoji · 1 month
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suggestive; gn!reader
thinking about helping oikawa stretch after practice.
he's all sweaty and musty and he's clinging to you, asking – no, absolutely begging you with his pretty brown eyes, for you to help him. and obviously you can't say no to him, so that's how you find yourself in this position – he's on his back, scruntching his eyebrows as you press his knees up to his chest. his flexible body begs for you to angle your own hips against his in order to properly give him the stretch he needs. his cheeks are tinted pink and his bottom lip is caught in between his teeth and it's really hard to not get any ideas. it's wrong – you know it is! this is your good friend and you're just helping him and there's nothing weird about this position and—
a loud moan rips from his lips and your eyes almost fall out of your head as warmth creeps up your neck. he doesn't even say anything about it, he just grabs onto your wrists to make sure you don't pull away.
"d-don't!" you stammer when a quieter but no less lewd noise escapes him. you feel your hands get clammy as your fingers sink into his calves.
oikawa cracks his one eye open to ask what the problem is. he doesn't see what's wrong in the slightest. his brown hair is splayed on the floor like a masterpiece with some of the strands sticking to his forehead and nobody should be allowed to look this good after a rough practice.
"don't make those sounds..." you whisper as you lean more into him when you feel the resistance in his body falter.
"wha– ahh...t sounds?" his eyes shut again and he sucks in a breath, puffing out his reddened cheeks. his knees fall more to his sides, opening up the space between them and you move closer on instinct.
"tho- those ones, idiot! you're making it weird!"
your hips are now completely flush against his and he lets out another pained whine. taking one of your hands from his calf, you place it on top of his mouth instead and his eyes shoot open in an instant.
he didn't even think about this position like that, genuinely oblivious to the suggestiveness of it. the stretch in the backs of his thighs feels good but you on top of him feels even better. your body feels warm against his and his eyes flick down to where you're connected. at that you try to pull away, afraid that now you've made it weird but he stops you.
"c'mon.. don't go." his hands wrap around your biceps as his eyes burn into your avoidant ones. "you have to help me with the next one too."
blinking down at him, you gulp, unable to refuse him. oikawa twists under you, barely taking his eyes off of you as he straightens out his one leg and folds the other up and to the side.
this position is no less suggestive than the last one – it still requires you to press up right against him to help him out. his fingers grasp at your sleeve to break you from your haze and you shuffle closer again.
bodies glued together, your hands dig into his thigh as you try to not focus on your friends face. nor the proximity. from behind you, you hear a row of snickers – without turning around, you know his teammates are making fun of you for falling into their captains alleged trap.
"see, this isn't so bad..." oikawa's soft flesh is back between his teeth as he forces his body to relax under you. you quietly glare at him, just hoping he won't say or do anything weird anything, hoping that he'll let you just leave and breathe for a moment—
"h-harder."
...
you press your eyes shut as your body threatens to overheat. putting almost all of your bodyweight onto his, you watch his eyes roll back inside his skull and you hold back a flustered groan. why is he like this?
slowly peeking from underneath your eyelashes, his scrunched up face almost kills you and it's hard to keep your thoughts at bay – they just come flooding in and you feel like a terrible friend. he's like this with everyone, so why are you even thinking about it? you are the one who's making it weird and you should stop.
"hey! no more fooling around! we gotta lock up, so move your asses!" iwaizumi breaks your pervy little bubble and you find oikawa staring right back at you. his cheeks are still pink even though the practice ended a good while ago. he gives you one of his big bright smiles as he moves his leg from his body to your other side, leaving you kneeling right between his thighs.
"thanks for that!" his voice betrays nothing about what he really feels in this moment, about what he feels in his lower abdomen. he pushes himself up and before he goes to leave for the changing room, he looks down at you and boops your nose with a laugh.
you stay glued to your spot for a good moment, iwaizumi's loud voice being the thing to tear you from the floor. you stumble to grab the remaining bottles and towels from the floor and make for the exit, letting the man close up behind you.
you mutter a quiet goodbye to him and hurry off, telling him that you have some other stuff to attend to. he doesn't question it – he's fully aware of the effect oikawa can have on a person. and on their body.
+ inspired by this iwaoi art on twt!!!!! i thought it was so funny n cute so i had to write something for it!!!!
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moonswolfie · 6 months
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The HQ!! boys with their number 1 princess
I highly recommend listening to world is mine while reading!!
in case you couldn't tell this is based on the song world is mine (i'm sure my mutuals are sick of hearing me talk about this song atp lmaoooo)
Characters featured: Ushijima, Kageyama, Kenma, Oikawa, Kita
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𖦹:・゚Ushijima Wakatoshi
"Well, are you gonna say anything or not?!" your sudden outburst surprised Wakatoshi.
"Was I supposed to say something?" he asked, almost used to you getting angry for seemingly no reason at this point.
You huffed, crossing your arms. "You didn't even notice, did you?!"
"Notice what?" he asked, clearly confused. He simply wanted to know the reason you're angry with him and how he can fix it. He thinks you look much better when smiling, after all.
"You idiot! I got my hair done! I was flipping my hair at you all day and you didn't even acknowledge it!" you turned away from him, hmphing.
"Oh. I did notice the hair." he stated simply.
"Well then say something about it!"
𖦹:・゚Kageyama Tobio
"Hey, let's- what is that?" Kageyama stopped mid sentence when noticing the drawing in your notebook.
You closed it at light speed.
"Hey! Don't look at things you're not supposed to!" you scolded him, clutching the notebook in your hold.
What Kageyama just got a glance at was your self-indulgent drawing of him as a prince kissing your hand.
"It was wide open for everyone to see!" Kageyama defended himself, clenching his fist.
"Whatever, just- you didn't see anything, okay?" you swatted his chest lightly with your hand.
"Wait, that kind of looked like you-"
"You didn't see anything, okay?"
𖦹:・゚Kozume Kenma
"Get me pudding. That's an order." you crossed your arms, plopping down on the bench.
His very fortunately colored hair left you with a little craving.
Kenma sighed, going back to walk into the store. How in the world does he always end up complying to your demands, anyways?
After he bought the pudding, he brought it back to you, who was still pouting and sitting on the bench with your legs crossed. When you noticed him and the pudding in his hands, your face lit up.
"Thank you!!˜" you smiled cheerily, snatching the pudding out of his hands.
Oh, now he knows why. That sweet smile is far too addicting.
𖦹:・゚Oikawa Tooru
"Hey! Look at me, will you?!" you kicked Oikawa with your pretty pair of heels.
You went to hang out and he barely even looked at your cute outfit. This is absolutely criminal.
"Owww, stop that, will you?!" he complained, mumbling about how he can't catch a break from being abused. How does he always end up with friends who hit him, anyways?
"Fine, fine, I'll look." he rubbed his back, finally looking you up and down.
"You look..."
"I look...?"
"Pretty okay, I guess?" Oikawa winked, shrugging, as if he didn't just experience ten consecutive heart attacks from how cute you looked in that dress. Internally, of course.
"You little- Ugh!" you swung at him again.
𖦹:・゚Kita Shinsuke
You walked away from Kita, who was busy with something else. If he isn't going to pay attention to you, you might as well go pet that cat across the street.
Ohh, it looks so cute and fluffy. You're ready to pounce.
Suddenly, you felt yourself being embraced from behind, flinching and turning your head back to see Kita.
"Uhhhh?!" you stammered out, completely flustered. What in the world?! He's actually hugging you right now! Could this mean...
"You almost ran into that person. Be more careful." he explained simply, letting you go and turning back to whatever he was doing.
Suddenly you're worried about your walking abilities with how much your legs are shaking.
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sweetheartsaku · 25 days
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—HAIKYU!! various ; better in the dark
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a/n ; [gn!reader] how deep is your love pt 2???!?!! AND YES!! the title is a tv girl reference :3c please dont let this flop!! praying that all the ppl who found pt 1 found this 🥹🩷 tysm for all the notes everyone!! <3
— characters : akaashi, kenma, kita, semi, kageyama, suna
part 1 ! ♡ oikawa, osamu, tsukishima, hinata, sakusa, kuroo
tea roses !
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keiji akaashi ; tip toe - HYBS
THIS MAN. he will take you out on absolutely BEAUTIFUL dates. they are scheduled and well thought out, all without you knowing. knows what you like, can predict what you order, where you will sit or do, and KNOWS how to fluster you effortlessly. UNSPOKEN RIZZ AT ITS FINEST YOUR HONOUR!!
at one point he had to resort to the notes app to write what you're like but had realised he had subconsciously memorised all of it by heart. deleted it and still knows you like the back of his hand!!
weirdly knows how to pick the best candles.
the warm, nostalgic smelling ones. candles that are the perfect dash of nostalgia, that feel comforting and warm. i wonder if its in the brain or an instinct thing
for anniversaries or literally just whenever, he makes paper flower bouquets. they are so intricate and every little detail, colour and fold makes it so perfect. in-between classes or when he finishes work early, he'll be nonchalantly folding another smaller flower for the arrangement. he does it so effortlessly too 😭!!
sometimes likes to fiddle with your fingers especially if you wear rings. one of the only and very sweet moments of PDA!! gently rubs his fingertips over your knuckles and tracing all the lines. i need an akaashi keiji in my life
will send you the most beautiful, heart-wrenching and mesmerising poems at an insane hour. you'll wake up with a couple paragraphs about how important healing or taking one step at a time is, making sure you fall in love with yourself everyday too. (please do)
kozume kenma ; cherry wine - grentperez
facinated by painted nails. on holidays he might paint them black, or maybe get a little cat sticker on his index!! pick the colour he'll love it either way
cherishes your little trinkets so much 😞 polaroid of you two and stickers on the back of his phonecase, keeps some of the random stuff you give him in his pocket. you could find a rock you gave him like 3 months ago but he kept it because you said it reminded you of him??
perfectly able and capable to order things by himself, but you know he isn't the type of guy to actually seem to WANT to do it. he is too lazy to actually get up but not lazy enOUGH when it comes to you. he might hide behind you. "HE SAID NO PICKLES!!"
CRAZY beef with your plushies. or anything you hold dear honestly. he can and will get pouty. BEWARE!! you must give him a lil' kiss to earn his attention back. (loves the forehead ones)
sometimes he forgets or just doesn't want to eat. it will get to the extent where you have to spoon feed him,,please remind and encourage him to ! eating, sleeping... just can't do it without a little push.
does this thing with his hands when you cross the road. i don't wanna say grabby hands because its pretty cringe, but it is definitely grabby hands. has no idea why he does it but its such a sweet and small gesture╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ !
cat parents but not exactly cat parents? 🤔 you found this stray cat once, and started visiting it everyday on the way to school. you cared for it, and when kenma picked that up he was also instantly fond of it too. now you both kinda feed it your leftover lunch when you visit the cat after school.. he's so precious with the little cat ueue.. take pictures before the moment fleets!
has the date you two met written on his controller... (he was so hesistant at first though LMAO)
shinsuke kita ; old love - yuji, putri dahlia
uses your initial for math variables. he'll use x or y sometimes, but his first option is ALWAYS your initial. you found this out on a study date once, math talk blablabla and he uses to what seems to you a 'random letter' NO. it is your initial!! 😞 when you ask he seems unfazed, but his ears are pretty red... idk guys i think he wants you
one of the people that make you stiffen up when they get physical. when he lays his head on your shoulder you instantly freeze up, trying not to move a BONE so you won't disturb him. it's like muscle memory to you LMAO.
really pretty, long lashes... if you've read part one, oikawa and tsuki are very similar :0!! loves when you graze his lashes with the back of your index finger
like akaashi, learnt how to make flowers but they're crochet 🥹 i think growing up his grandma had taught him how to crochet and all the little patterns. overtime, dedicated himself to making an arrangement every anniversary... they come with little heartfelt letters too!! (kita boyfie material COME HOME!!)
very routinal as well!! like kuroo (he is the full package) he never misses a morning or night to say good morning or good night. AND he places sticky notes around your desk or places he knows you'll be in reminding you to smile or something along those lines !!
what took the cake for me was when he left a little bag filled with goodies once he realised atsumu was sick 😣 definitely does the same for you... sends bag with a bowl of hot soup his grandma made at your front door
eita semi ; i wish you roses - kali uchis
weirdly immersed in the painting of nails as well. sometimes he'll ask you to paint his in black but he got dress-coded a week later 😓 SIKE gives NO shat and kept them on anyway. they are way too valuable to him to just erase. nails done in a simple colour he likes?? by his s/o?? wiped off?? very funny shiratorizawa
i think + the neighborhood, he likes tv girl, kendrick lamar, childish gambino but has a duality of laufey and beabadoobee's bedroom pop and fuzzy rock??
sick of people making arctic monkeys his personality 😞 musicians arise!! apart from the VBC, hes probably in a band too. small gigs here and there for school, and a few fun sessions with his friends just to play whatever. come to his gigs! (sometimes he'll magically play 10x better when you're around, he says)
share earphones with him PLEASE. on rainy bus rides or walks home, he'll play something you like hehe c:
takes you out to the mall closest to shiratorizawa to go pick up some fast food or a drink. it usually gets really crowded from all the surrounding schools so he keeps you close by the waist
and obviously the basic, will sit with you and teach you the basics of bass or electric guitar. i think he'd play a bit of percussion too (о´∀`о) sometimes he'll take you into his lap, but thats when he feels pretty clingy but very discreetly!!
tobio kageyama ; what would i do? - strawberry guy
please don't try to flirt with him he WON'T UNDERSTAND!!!! *gunshots*
if you say literally anything that isn't directly stating your point, he will not get it. using metaphors or just figurative language in general he is STRUGGLING. you need to say, "you're pretty." because things like "i fall in love with you every day" or "i'll find you in every universe" he will actually look at you BAFFLED. please help this man
thinks about what YOU would do. like when he is in doubt or feels like he's about to lash out, he will take a moment and literally ask himself what you'd do or say. even in tests or something completely unrelated to you he will literally ask himself what you would put in the answer box !!
face scrunch when he gets jealous ! he kinda has a lil' pout but can't bring himself to say anything. when you finally notice him he'll have this lil' (๑ˋ^ˊ ๑) face... please kiss his eyelid or the corner of lips cuz HE HAS TOO MANY PRETTY BOY PRIVILEGES!! (and he'll get flustered it's the cutest) revoke them THIS instant!!
his favourite type of kisses are the ones where you'll push his hair back and give him a forehead kiss. he'll take you in by the waist and keep you close, he likes to listen to your heart because you have his. when he feels clingy, he'll nuzzle his head into your shoulder. what a dork
will attempt to find you at his games pre and post timeskip. before the game he will try to make it not look frantic but one of his members eventually catch on 😞
rintarou suna ; SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK - joji
camera roll is either 0.5's of the most jaw dropping, majestical sunsets and sunrises that he's experienced with you or literally anytime the sky is feeling a little different (if he's not with you at the time he WILL send them to you at either 5am or 7pm saying it reminded him of you) or the CRAZIEST 0.5's of you losing sanity or of you off guard. its wild blackmail material but he chooses not to LMAO. (because of the love in his heart, he says)
has a little photo album for you and anything you related!! he also takes the best candid photos of you and post them on close friends!! (´∀`)
no. #1 victim of couple tiktok trends. pretends and looks like he doesn't like it, but doesn't want it to end. once you press post he will stare you down with his beautiful ahh olive hazel eyes (he wants more)
last one on the social med side, he mentions you in posts with your initials all the FLIPPIN' TIME!! his dedication is quite endearing
on days where everything becomes overstimulating, he will notice. will eye you for a while, but once he knows when it gets to a certain extent he will hand you an earphone.
anyone who says suna is an arctic monkey's listener is a LIAR I SAID IT I SAID IT!!!!! *more gunshots* JOKES he probably has a couple of their songs in his playlist, but i personally think he's more tyler the creator coded. people who get it get it (avril lavigne sk8r boi? keshi beside you? definitely)
hot adams apple
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bokutosmochi · 2 years
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UNCLEAN ♡ OIKAWA TORU
timeskip!oikawa toru x gn!reader
what's it? suggestive allergen warning/s? n/a sugar level? 0.8k regulars? @hanayanetwork​
parlor's note? the bottle referenced here is the one they use in the anime, the kind of bottle where you have to pull and push at the mouthpiece to open and close it. also, this was written for someone else originally so if you see an error, no u didn’t :DD
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bon appetit!
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you loudly cheered for your team as oikawa scored another point for them via a setter dump, further bring the momentum and the blessing of the goddess of victory to your team. you were sure that the pressure was starting to settle onto the other team's bones. it couldn't be denied, the fact that they were forced to take their second time out of the set proved that.
you smiled brightly at the men in your team as they stepped off the court for time being, greeting them before the coach for the argentinean  gave them a few words of guidance, telling them that what they were doing is working against one of the toughest teams in this year's olympics - japan's national team - and should continue pushing through, continue with this style of offense, do not take the nine point lead for granted.
you gave each of them their respective water bottles, careful not to accidentally give one the other's as the older man continued to encourage them, giving them some advice while he was at it. and as always, you gave oikawa's things last. that was something you did ever since you got to know him because usually, if the game is going well - like it is right now -, coach is already over with his talk with the team once you've reached him, giving you the opportunity to converse with him some more as you've always enjoyed time spent with the brunette man and with the enthusiasm that seeps into his voice whenever he talks to you, assuming he enjoyed it as well would not be considered a far fetched guess.
albeit you probably did like him in a different way he likes you as over the years of working with him, you've developed a small crush on him. or at least it was a small crush. now there are times where you find yourself enamored by him, by his mere existence that you forget to breathe for a few seconds. and the best thing about oikawa was that his handsome features were only a secondary reason onto why you liked him, as the primary reason for your infatuation was his attitude, the way he carried himself, the way his mind worked. you found it absolutely fascinating and you want nothing more than to delve into it, into him until you were breathless and unable to remember anything but him.
as usual, he was smirking at you as you handed him his towel and water bottle, only, there was something different about this smirk. you cannot explain it, nor can you put your finger on it, but there's definitely something there.
his hand grabbed at the towel and gave you a curt thanks before opening his mouth to speak some more. "hun, my hands are dirty. can you open my bottle for me?" he asked with a tilt of his head and you quickly looked down to hide how your cheeks were burning up at his stare.
you were about to grab at the mouthpiece that had to be pulled up in order for it to be opened when he quietly tsk-ed discontentedly at you. "your hands are dirty too."
so you found yourself looking up at him in confusion, silently asking him what he wanted you to do because truthfully, you had no idea.
"with your mouth,"
you murmured the words back to him in disbelief. there was no way he said those three words. he's never hinted at liking you in that way and it just doesn't make any sense in your dumbfounded mind.
the look on your face just makes him chuckle. he leans down to your level, his mouth right by your ear as he repeats himself  "with your mouth". his warm breath gives you a chill and makes you press your legs together. he glances back at the court and then at you. "c'mon hun, i don't have all day. i still have to drink." he states plainly as if he didn't just say what he did.
you were powerless against his gaze and did what he told you to do.
you put the tip of the water bottle to your lips and tug at the mouthpiece with your teeth, opening it for oikawa.
without missing a beat, he smirks further, cupping the bottle with his large hand and taking it from you, drinking from it oh-so casually. and in the nick of time too because the moment he was done, the referee blows the whistle, signifying the end of the time out.
he presses the bottle back to your hands, "close it for me now, yeah?"
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teamatsumu · 6 months
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DRUNKEN KISSES.
characters: bokuto, atsumu, oikawa
word count: 1255
cw: fluff, some angst, fem!reader
taglist: @keiva1000
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BOKUTO KOUTARO:
“Watch it!” You yelped when Bokuto stumbled over uneven pavement, making you sway as well, considering almost half his body weight was on you. You cursed under your breath as Bokuto simply giggled, finding the whole situation supremely funny.
“Kou…” You sighed, shaking your head and trailing off. You couldn’t possibly be mad at him. Sure, you had to drag your ass out of bed so late at night in order to fetch him after Hinata had called you, saying he was wasted beyond belief and there was no way he could get home by himself. But you couldn’t really be ticked off by that. You had seen first hand how hard Bokuto had worked in the weeks leading up to the new volleyball season. As his roommate, you knew intimately how jam packed his schedule was with training, running, practicing. So Bokuto absolutely deserved to let loose for a bit, even if it meant you supporting his weight and dragging his humongous body along with you back to your shared apartment.
Two more blocks. You could do this.
Bokuto was humming some tune under his breath, lost in his own little world, probably still thinking about MSBY’s momentous win against the Adlers tonight. The thought also put a smile on your face, remembering how you felt watching the game on TV, watching Bokuto’s grinning face. You were only pulled from your thoughts when Bokuto nudged you with his hips, making you look up at him.
“Hi.” He flashed you a million dollar smile, making your lips twitch up as well. His happiness was contagious.
“Hey there.” You replied.
“‘M really happy.” His face was flushed, eyes darting all over your face, slightly hazy. You felt your body buzz at his words, your expression softening.
“I’m glad.” You whispered back, staring at the warm gold of his irises.
Your pace was slowing, until you two had stopped completely. Dead silence surrounded you, the cold air of the night going unnoticed where your bodies were touching, Bokuto’s heavy arm thrown over your shoulder. He leaned down quickly, lips meeting yours.
They were cold, but soft, moving slowly over yours, lips dragging as if trying to memorize the shape and taste of yours. Your heart jumped, your grip around his waist tightening, mirroring his movements by tilting your head.
The streetlight overhead flickered a bit. It went unnoticed by both of you.
MIYA ATSUMU:
You blinked your sleep-heavy eyes open, jerking up to look at the clock on the far wall. Nearly 1am. And yet, there was no mistaking the heavy banging happening on your front door right now.
A deep scowl was etched on your face as you stumbled to the front door in your pajamas. The banging was relentless and without pause, and you nearly yelled at the person when you put your eye to the peephole. A groan escaped your lips when you glimpsed messy dyed blonde hair, closing your eyes and praying for patience from the lord above.
Atsumu gave you a sleazy grin when you opened the door, a long, whiny ‘heyyyy’ leaving his lips. He leaned an arm against the doorframe, trying to look smooth but failing miserably when he slipped and slammed a shoulder against the wall instead, making him curse and pout. If you weren’t so angry, you would’ve laughed.
“It’s 1 in the morning.” You deadpanned, taking in his appearance. He was wearing a nice button-up blue shirt and black slacks, the sleeves rolled up and the first two buttons undone. His hair was a mess, his cheeks carrying a flush that you knew all too well.
“And you’re drunk.” You added, suddenly understanding why he had ended up on your doorstep so late at night. You felt yourself soften a bit in pity, watching how he swayed unsteadily on his feet, looking you up and down while being painfully obvious.
“Missed ya.” He mumbled, before giving you another lazy smile. But you could see through it.
Your breakup had been hard on Atsumu, who refused to accept that you no longer wanted to be a part of his life. Though this was the first time you were seeing him in person since you called it quits, he hadn’t stopped pestering you over calls and texts for weeks.
“Atsumu….” You sighed, feeling defeated. You saw the hurt flash in his eyes.
“What happened to ‘Tsumu?” He slurred, stepping closer to you until the space between you two was minimal.
“Go home.” You ignored his question.
“Gimme a kiss first.”
“Atsu-”
“Gimme a kiss. And I’ll leave.”
You sighed, closing your eyes for a second. When you opened them again and met his stare, catching the hope in his brown ones, you gave in.
What was supposed to be a short peck became a long, deep kiss, your tongues dragging over each other, his hand moving to the back of your head to keep you in place. Not that you wanted to move. One taste of him reminded you of what you had had, and you couldn’t help fisting his shirt, pulling his body closer to yours, stepping back into your apartment until the door was gently shutting behind both of you.
OIKAWA TOORU:
“This is exactly what you do if you want to burn a kitchen down, not make banana bread!” You yelped, pulling open the oven door only for huge clouds of black smoke to rush out of it. You coughed and waved both hands through the smoke, trying to clear it enough. You heard the telltale hum of the exhaust fan buzzing to life, mentally thanking Oikawa for having enough sense to turn it on.
Whoever thought drunk baking was a good idea? (It was Oikawa. Oikawa thought it was a good idea. And you were drunk too, so you had agreed with him)
You were sobering up pretty quickly though, realizing that you two could potentially be setting your entire flat on fire. But when you straightened up and looked back at Oikawa, you saw him chugging back another glass of red wine.
“Tooru!” You laughed incredulously, to which Oikawa looked at you with wide eyes, biting back a smile.
“What? You have the situation under control!”
You dissolved into giggles, leaning against the counter as you eyed the smoke clearing slowly. Oikawa came to stand next to you, both of you watching your pathetic attempt at baking disappear through the fan and out into the open air, carrying your failures along with it.
“That was fun.” Your roommate spoke up, making you smile.
“We should never have fun like this again.”
He nodded, looking down at you with his charming smile. His eyes were warm, chestnut hair slightly disheveled. His eyelids slid to half mast, gaze running lower until it was trained on your lips, and he hummed low. You felt your breath catch at the change in the atmosphere, subconsciously leaning closer to Oikawa. For some reason, in your alcohol-addled brain, he looked particularly captivating.
You didn’t even realize when exactly your lips met his, or when he reciprocated it. All you could concentrate on was the sweet taste of wine lingering on his lips, or the delicious drag of his hands down your sides before his fingers squeezed at your hips. His chest, firm but unsteady just like yours, was pushed flush against yours, and he sighed into your lips before pushing his tongue languidly into your mouth.
The smoke eventually cleared. Not that either of you were paying attention.
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lujingheswife · 6 months
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and it felt like home again.
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summary: when he gets drowned in exhaustion and homesickness, the first thing he wishes for is home.
featuring: oikawa tooru
word count: 729
cw: gn!reader, timeskip!oikawa tooru, comfort, oikawa is just homesick, not proofread, intentional lowercase, a bit of fluff <3
author’s notes: wanna write a fic of a character feeling homesick and exhausted (because i was) and oikawa was the first person that came into my mind! hope you enjoyyy
_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
it was seven o clock in the evening.
tooru limply stepped into his rented apartment, the familiar loneliness welcoming him with silence. his eyes felt droopy from lack of sleep, his body sore from multiple rounds of exercising and his arms bruised from the strong receives.
he should be used to this, which he is, yet it happened to be one of those days when he felt absolutely, dreadfully exhausted.
he would be lying if he says he does not want to go home; he really wanted to. the countless practices had always made him wanting to just pack his bags and leave. he missed his family and his mother’s home cooked meals, he missed enjoying authentic ramen at the restaurant near his high school, he missed being in the arms if his partner just taking his time to relax.
he missed his home.
tooru placed his bags by the entrance, not bothering to arrange them somewhere. he kicked his shoes off without caring to keep them nicely in the shoe rack. he let his legs drag him towards the nearest, softest place he could find to rest— the sofa.
the apartment was dark although illuminated by the light lingering in the evening sky. he heavily rested an arm over his eyes, a loud sigh escaped his lips.
the first person that came into his mind was you.
he wanted to see you.
tooru suddenly thought of his phone that was left forgotten in his bag. he slightly lifted his arm to take a peek at his bag, but ignored it after.
whatever, not in the mood...
just a little longer maybe.
when his eyes could no longer bear the weight of his consciousness, they finally put him into slumber.
he found himself in a dream. he was in a field of grass with nothing else around him. every direction he went showed no signs of obstacle, only an endless field.
what was he searching for?
where was he going?
he continued walking aimlessly.
ah... how long have i been walking for?
the sound of a bell ringing came to him from the front. it caught his attention, and his legs picked up the pace. there he was, running towards where the bell rung from in hopes of a destination.
a flash of light blinded him.
tooru jotted awake from the sofa as the sound of the ringing doorbell continued echoing the apartment. confused, he definitely recalled not ordering any food delivery today nor did he invite anyone to come over.
"coming," he called. he groggily dragged himself towards the door, not bothering to check his phone again.
his hand reached for the doorknob as he unlocked it open. he had not look at who the person is, yet the shoes definitely belonged to someone familiar. "do you need anythi-"
"tooru!"
what?
his once droopy eyes widened immediately at the familiar voice calling for his name. his head shot up from facing the floor, immediately locking eyes with you.
you stood in front of his door with a big backpack clinging onto your back like a koala and a luggage standing next to you. you were there, physically, in front of him, plastering a grin that he loved so much on your face. "you did not answer my call," you said as you pouted your lips on purpose, yet he was sure that you were simply amused at your boyfriend's reaction.
tooru remained speechless as he observed you top to toe, confirming whether its the real deal, his precious partner, in front of his doorstep. was it a coincidence that you somehow magically appeared in front of him like an angel during the times when he needed you the most? probably.
his hand left the door knob as he immediately pulled you into a tight, warm embrace. how surreal did it feel when he buried his face in the crook of your neck, enjoying the coziness he longed to feel. he felt you responding to his hug as you returned it, and he could feel your familiar scent tickling his nose saying, "it's been a while!"
he stayed with you for a little longer before getting pestered to help you with your heavy bags. he asked no questions, just clinging onto you like a helpless toddler and ended the day with a cuddle.
and it felt like home again.
_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
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eggyrocks · 6 days
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part seventeen: maybe: piece of shit miya
m.list
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fun facts
bluey is yn’s comfort show and since she’s dealing with a break up and a friend break up (🫣) she’s been watching it too much lately. tsukishima watches it with her
noya hates it
for once in his life oikawa is actually taking iwa’a advice
he figured he was out of options after a week of yn ignoring him and that giving her space might actually be the best option for him
yn hasn’t been leaving the house other than classes and work
a rude customer tried to be mean to her over an order and yn just burst out crying
said customer just tipped her in cash and then left
her and hinata and kageyama went to a movie and it was actually a refreshing change of pace for her :) they had a good time
album playing in the coffeee shop today: pure heroin by lorde
taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @publicbathroompanic @bedeater @rottingt1tz @rintarawr @deluluforcarlos55 @ahseyy @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @baskin-robinhoods @polish-cereal @iheartamora @ferntv @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @garden-of-bri @shotenvinsoot @sugartits123 @awktwurtle @randomidk-123 @httpakkeiji @hikikaimar @eyes-ofhell @noodleswastaken @nnnyxie @hermaeusmorax @rasisarchive @lees-chaotic-brain @marzzn @phoenix-eclipses @causenessus @ilychee08 @yxcntruu @cotton-eee @sleepy-time @cannibalsrider @k8nicole @ekeio @bae-ashlynn @macchiatomegumi @r0seandth0rns @astereim @rebirthbunbun @glitch-karma @ganyours @bookworm-center @kindlyemely @pinksilk (taglist is closed)
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sashimiyas · 1 month
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iwaizumi has curated a flawless, step by step routine for perfect sleep. all hours of the day are optimized, and optimally spaced free time just in case he needs to deviate from plan thanks to oikawa’s (and maki and matsun and kageyama and anyone else he associates with) shenanigans.
anyone would say he’s fond of routines and iwaizumi does not deny them. they call it boring. he calls it consistency. the saying “consistency is key” didn’t come from nowhere. so iwaizumi shops at the same places. rarely orders a different menu item unless he’s got a free stamp to splurge. he remains loyal to the same brands, and his body yearns for bed by 9pm.
but tonight, iwaizumi yearns for more. you’re in his head and it feels so wrong to be thinking of you like this in his bed.
you should be nothing more than a friend and friends don’t do this. friends don’t stay up thinking about the way you smiled when you said hello. hell, iwaizumi doesn’t stay up at all!
but his bedsheets feel off. they’re stiff from being sun dried, the lines of thread prominent on his bare skin. then he’s reminded of the way your clothes had felt against his palm when you’d gone in for a hug and fuck! iwaizumi has to turn on his side with his eyes shut to get you out of his mind.
despite his athleticism, he cannot evade your power. iwaizumi is tossing and turning all across his mattress and before he knows it, he’s relived the hangout with you more than he can count and it’s well past midnight.
he gives up. ragged, the man grabs his phone to text you. what else is he supposed to do? continue to suffer? he can’t go on like this.
what are you doing, he asks, squinting.
you don’t need to answer. iwaizumi knows what you’re doing. tormenting him. torturing him. trapping him with this unknown desire.
and when he sees those three dots blink up from the blue light of his screen, iwaizumi knows the real answer.
you’re making him fall in love.
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luvring · 4 months
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WHICH ONE?
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gn!reader | sugawara, oikawa, akaashi (suggestive), atsumu, osamu (calls you hon), sakusa
based on those videos where it’s like,, “if you know your partner, which ones would they choose?” “which one of these cats is your partner?” etc etc
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SUGAWARA always asks you to pause on each photo. it’s an amusing quirk—a beige flag if nothing else—and his explanations are never wrong, so you let him take the phone for full control.
“why do they only leave it up for a second? how am i supposed to look at the photo?” he complains as he zooms in on the second slide.
you let out a puff of laughter. “i guess you should know me well enough to pick based on a glance?”
“but you’d like the first three living rooms, and you want me to not take in every detail?” koshi raises a brow. “look at the lamp on that shelf. i might’ve picked this one if i didn’t see it—you’d hate that design.”
raising your hands in surrender you let him continue as he mumbles—a visible pout on his face—“‘on a glance’  my butt.”
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OIKAWA’s jaw just less than drops to the floor when he disagrees with your choice, even when you genuinely think it’s accurate.  “what? you think i’m that cat?”
you look between him and your screen. “...yes? why do you look like i just kicked you?”
“you might as well have! i don’t look like that when i’m eating!”
“that was literally you last night when we were eating noodles,” you say with a vivid image of him at the kitchen counter in mind.
tooru stares at you blankly. “do you hate me?”
“what?”
“you either don’t know me, or you hate me so which one is it, quickly—”
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AKAASHI is more curious than anything about the option you choose, even when he pretends to be offended.
he hums as you show him the outfit you’ve chosen, then playfully frowns. “i don’t wear that kind of thing, though. have you hated my outfits this whole time?”
rolling your eyes, used to his antics, you reply, “okay, then wear the fifth one instead.”
“the cowboy outfit?”
“yeah,”—you poke his cheek—“i’m sure you could pull it off.”
keiji’s hand comes up to take your hand in his, and he leans in with a downturned smile. “really? would you match? there’s that saying about saving a horse, right?”
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ATSUMU takes it seriously—a little too seriously. maybe it’s his general competitive nature, but his brows furrow and he stares at the screen, completely focused.
you've been watching him swipe between slides for at least 20 seconds when you finally speak. “seriously, ’tsumu?”
“shush, i’m thinkin’.”
“wh—don’t shush me.” you smack his shoulder in faux offense and laugh.
“oh!” he grips your hand in his, ignoring the hit he took. “this is easy money, you like the fourth kitchen, right?”  
and when he’s met with silence, his response is an accomplished grin. “told ya. looks like you’re the one ordering dinner.”
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OSAMU is almost absurdly good at picking out your favourite, which isn’t a surprise except the few times he ends up picking faster than you.
“the third one, right?” he casually asks from behind your spot on the couch.
“the third one? wait, which one was the third one?” you mumble before swiping back. comparing it to the others, you easily come to the same conclusion and turn give him a look.
his lip twitches at the disbelief on your face. “what?”
“how’d you know so fast?”
light laughter fills the room as osamu leans to wrap his arms around your shoulders, voice low in your ear. “feel like i should be offended? y’should know i know you like the back of my hand, hon.”
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SAKUSA usually entertains you, but can't help himself from messing with you every so often with a video himself.
“where did you even find this video?” you ask, utterly confused—which late cretaceous period dinosaur is your boyfriend?
kiyoomi shrugs as nonchalantly as he can while you stare at a slide of an ankylosaur. you shoot him a look but try your best to compare anyway.
eventually, you turn the phone to show a slide of a stegosaurus. “...this guy?”
“no.”
“no?”
“the stegosaurs never made it to the late cretaceous.”
it takes less than two seconds, but he sees your shove coming before you can even say his name and raises a pillow to block it. despite the shock and betrayal, you laugh as he grins at you from behind his defense. “kiyoomi, i swear to god!”
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finally tumblr user luvring makes a multi chara hq post WHO CHEERED 😭🙌💯 and sakusa...sorry i have to use my lingering paleo knowledge somewhere guys.
🏷 | @devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @leexshin @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @dimslover @kuroaka @vampyrkookie @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @spooky1magazine1bread @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @scill-a @tooruchiiscribs @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @chirikoheina @sleepyxxhead @milkbreadforlife
random pt2. bc i didn't know there was a chara limit for text blocks. goddamn @itsukkie @sirimirihiro @mylahrins @aria-chikage @heyitstial @akari-fujikawa @chocopuchino
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