#so have a 30 minute angst doodle | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr has been providing a Korean-language service since 2013.

#so have a 30 minute angst doodle

trulyyours-rune · 10 months

Text

"You're Safe with me."

Quick warnings: Topics about bullying, name calling (such as queer, not mention a lot though.), bit of angst, language here and there, male x male, fluff ending, bit of violence, kinda short cause I'm tired, reader is male and uses he/him, reader is badass cause why not?

BILL'S P. O. V:

"For as long as I can remember, me and my brother, Tom, are often called names a bullied at school from seeming different in everyone's eyes. Even though known to be most popular boy of our grade has been helping us pull through. I like him, don't take this the wrong way of course! Only like a friend. Now...the more I think about it...Is it just a friend way?" I scribble down with messy writing into a diary I recently bought myself, a nice black leather one with a lock with a code. "Bill! C'mon! Hurry up, gonna' be late for school!" I hear my twin brother yell from down stairs. "Give me a minute!" I shout back.

I rush as I put the book in my drawer, grabbing my backpack and nearly tripping down the stairs. The front door opens and my mom is already in the car, smiling and waving her hand gesturing for us to hop in. "Shotgun!" Tom tells and sprints to the car. (He would so do that.) I groan and hop in the back, setting my backpack to the side. We pull out of the driveway and make out way to what me and Tom call hell.

Not gonna lie I'm hoping y/n will be at school today. We're good friends. Many people would sacrifice a lot just to be friends with him, but he only sticks with my band/friend group. He's funny once you get to really know him, and pretty... Pretty? Yea- no. Well he was handsome of course because girls slobber on him day and night. Never dated one of them? Wonder why.

I seemed so drained in my thought the kids from outside if the car screaming snapped me out of it. "Bye, love you ma." "Love you too, have a good day alright you boys?" "Alright." Both me and Tom almost say in sync as we grab our backpacks and stepping out of the car. Georg and Gustav were waiting at the nearby fence. "Where's y/n?" I tilt my head while approaching them, Tom close behind. "Haven't seen him yet." Gustav shrugs, looking over his shoulder for the boy. I feel myself frown a bit, I was really looking forward to seeing him. Especially inside of school. Hate it in there.

The high-pitched bell rings, making me jump a bit from the sudden loud noise. "Got science first today, you guys?" I ask, looking at my friends as we walk. "Me and Tom got math first." Georg rolls his eyes and Tom groans. "History." Gustav shrugs once again. "Y/n was supposed to have science." I pout a bit. We soon enter the school and a overwhelming feeling surrounds me with looks and stares. I keep my head down, and so does Tom.

I reach my locker and grab the stuff I need in a swift motion, slamming the locker door shut and locking it. I feel an arm shove into me, which makes me bump into my locker. "Watch it, queer." A male voice I hate to recognize walks past me. I clench my teeth together and tense my hands into fists, soon relaxing and walking to Mr. James classroom. (Suck at names 🤩)

I find the spot where I usually sit beside to y/n like usual. Sliding my books under my desk and keeping my head down as I figit with my fingers. The bell rings again, meaning class has started. 1 hour and 30 minutes to go. Lucky me. The teacher passes out empty notebooks, still putting one on y/n's desk like he doesn't notice he's here or not. We pull out our textbooks and that's where the boring part begins.

A couple minutes pass by, we have 1 hour and 12 minutes left. I scribble random doodles on my notebook. A loud "bang!" Of a door slamming open was heard, making me mess up the drawing and look back. Y/n entered through the door breathing quick and heavy as if he just ran an olympic race, "Sorry I'm late, uhm..." He looks down at his shoes to find an excuse. "Parent's car wasn't working." Pretty lame excuse, I smile to myself, but at least he was here.

He sits down in the desk next to me, looking over and signing a quick small wave, I wave back with a smile.

Y/N'S P. O. V:

I knew he would be here, and I feel guilty for being late. Who knows what happened to him while I was gone already? I look down at the notes, clueless what was going on. I never paid much attention anyways.

A minute or two passes by, when a small note gets passed onto my desk from behind me. I open it up and it's one of those 'do you like me?' notes but instead of '□ yes □ no' it was marked '□ yes □ yes' signed from: -the girl behind you. The girl obsesses over me, does this 4 times a week. I chuckle and catch Bill's attention, showing him the note from my desk, pointing behind me. He smiles a bit before drawing God knows what. I erase one of the 'yes' and replace it with no and I check 'no' and crumple it back up and toss it behind me. I hear her open it and sigh in defeat. I smile to myself by the rejection.

(Lunch time cause I have 0 clue what to do now 🥰)

I wait by Bill's locker as he grabs his stuff, he seems off today. Not usually talking to me as often as he does. Tom happens to pass by and I wave to him, he waves back but continues his walk to the cafeteria.

"You alright Bill?" I look at him, he looks at me and closes his locker. "Yeah I'm alright." He looks down a bit. I hum crossing my arms and standing up straight. We start walking to the cafeteria and I see glares getting passed on towards Bill. I glare back at the people and stand my ground, they look away and continue to do whatever they were doing. Feeling power for reputation and both good was a nice feeling. Being respected all because of their reputation could go down if they make a fool of themselves and I use it against them. I would never to Bill, he's one of my best friends after all. He's a sweet boy, not sure why people pick on him. Who cares if people are different? Someone popular could get an ugly haircut and no one bats an eye, and other kids are bullied for what seems to be 'looking different.' Who gives a crap!? Not me, that's for sure, and hell, I get respected.

People call him "Gay." "Emo." "Queer." and the list goes on, ruins his self esteem. Which makes my blood boil each time, he tries to get me not to worry about it so much, but he's my friend! A pretty one at that. Wait- where am I going with this? "Earth to y/n." I see a slim hand wave in front of my face as we walk, snapping me back to reality. "Wait- what's happening?" "Lunch." He shrugs, standing in line.

Eventually it's our time to pick up food, wasn't even all that good after all. Yet I'd rather not starve. Our trays are full and we stand off to the side to spot out the group. Bill sees dirty blonde dreads and starts heading the direction so I follow closely to him.

"Hey man!" A random guy, seems to be a huge sports wannabe guy, stops me in my tracks, startling me. Bill doesn't notice and keeps walking. I hear other guys giggling their asses off like idiots, coming from the nearby bleachers where Bill is walking. "Hey man liste-" I try to talk my way out but he interrupts me with questions I don't even care about. I try to shimmy past him but he just walks in front. I start to get more and more annoyed as the other boys get closer to Bill with what seems to be small opened cartons of milk. "Move!" I shove him with my shoulder but I already hear a splash ahead of me, my heart drops at the moment. Everyone's laughing and Bill is soaking wet with milk while his tray lays on the ground.

He forms tears and runs off to the bathrooms, I go to go chase him but I shove my food tray into the guys chest, ruining the jersey he probably doesn't even know the team of. I run off to the men's bathroom, hearing a stall slam shut and light sobs. "Bill?" I call out. "Go away." "Bill come on, it's me." I put a hand on the stall he was on, pushing on it slightly, he locked it.

I sigh as I still hear the crowd laughing from outside and rage fills my gut. I hear a small click and the stall is unlocked and opens slightly. I see a soaking wet Bill, his usual eyeliner running down his cheeks. I feel my heart break at the sight, I frown and hug him, he hugs back and continues to sob into my shoulder. I rub his back gently and let him cry. "Here." I say, letting go for a moment to sit down against the wall, reaching out my arms. He rests on top of me, arms wrapped around my stomach.

Poor boy looks so mentally and physically drained. I wipe one of the tears of eyeliner across his cheek, it smears a bit but mostly gone. "I wanna go home." I hear him mumble. "My place? I was late because I got your favorite snacks. Still forgot them at home though." I giggle. He smiles and nods, sitting up. I stand up, my clothes may be wet, but it's not like it's the worst thing that will happen to me. I wrap my arm around his shoulder and walk him out, his head cowered down, hiding from shame. After a bit of walking we see Tom, Gustav, and Georg at the office at the entrance. Tom and Georg hug him, also not caring if their clothes got wet or not.

"We're heading to my place, got snacks so he gave in." I chuckle. Tom nods. I take Bill's cold hand and walk him out the entrance, the sun glare making us squint a bit.

BILL'S P. O. V:

(Once they're at y/n's place 👍)

I walk inside the warm house, kicking off my shoes by the door."You can go to my room and change your clothes with mine, I don't mind." Y/n looks at me, walking into the kitchen to grab the snacks he was talking about. I nod and walk to his room, opening the door to the place I felt most comfortable. I spot his drawer and take one of his shirts and pants (that we're both a bit big for him.) and changed into them. They were warm and cozy unlike my milk soaked ones. I walk into his bathroom and grab a towel and dry off my hair, making it messy in the end but who cares beyond this point. I turn on some warm water and wash the eyeliner off my face, drying my face off too and turning off the water.

I walk back to his room and he's already laying in his bed, eating. "Your parents not home or something?" I ask, grabbing some chips he recently bought. "Both working today, their shifts been crazy this week." He shrugs. "Wanna watch a movie?" "Your pick." I say, y/n smiles and puts on a horror movie, Scream I suppose. "You know..." Y/n looks at me. I look at him, letting him know he has my attention. "You're safe with me." He smiles, his cheeks seem redder than usual, but mine feel a bit hotter now and my heart is beating like crazy. I return the smile, after those simple 4 words I truly do feel like I am safe. I want to stick by his side, for... Eternity. He's my safe space. He's the one I come crying too whenever I can. I must be smiling like an idiot now.

I lay back into his bed, closing my eyes a bit. I feel something weighted beside me, it's y/n, also laying down with his eyes closed. He looks so pretty like this, he always has. It's almost like I wanna kiss him sometimes. (Cause you do 🤩). You know what? Fuck it. I place my hand on his cheek and the other one I lay a quick kiss too. My face red as I roll onto my side, facing away from him. Rethinking life choices.

My heart just acted as if it got chased by a bear. But I hear a chuckle and arms wrap around me and pulls me into him he laughs and kisses the top of my head. I must be blushing madly because my entire face feels like it's on fire. I dig my face down into his shoulder as my arms wrap around him. He was my safe space after all.

__________

And kids that's how I met your fath-

Anyways. It's 1:52 in the morning and I've been fighting every nerve to stay awake so it may seem rushed. Anything does when you're half asleep after all.

But ngl, hope you enjoyed <3

#bill kaulitz #tokio hotel x male reader #bill kaulitz x male reader #tokio hotel imagines #tokio hotel

87 notes · View notes

starl3ght · 1 year

Text

//~John “Soap” MacTavish hcs~//

A/N: Oh this man something else. Johnny gets all the baddies👁👄👁. I’ll probably make a weekly schedule at some point. König oneshot is coming soon too. I’ve been feeling sick so imma leave this here but I’ll get better.

Drop down requests and follow!!

Contains: sex, drinking/drunk soap, comfort, some little angst, Ghost being annoyed, chaos

MINORS WATCH YOURSELVES!!!

Enjoy!<3

• Oh this cocky bastard

• You liked him first. He knew and teased you or flirted with you a lot

• But he would never make you feel like he was playing with your feelings

• So if he misbehaves or says something dumb in public you probably hit him and tell him to be quiet

• 141 feels sorry for you. Ghost is grateful you put Soap in his place

• When he gets home from a mission he will literally wake you up with no hesitation. Walks into the room and turns on the lights.

• “Bonnie, wakey wakey love I’m home!”

• You groan in annoyance with your eyes still closed. “Johnny it’s 2 am, but god…screw it”

• You get out of bed then jump onto him and he places his hands under your thighs and kisses you.

• If he sees you crying or just mentally exhausted he’ll wrap his arms around you. Will try cracking a joke or just anything to make you laugh

• Doodles or sketches in his time. It’s a fun hobby and for his creativity. Buys notebooks or sketchbooks at the store there’s no more space to put them

• He’ll get drunk and it’ll be the most fucking hilarious thing ever

• Ghost has to bring him home because he can’t be on the street. Absolutely not

• “Ghost?” You look next to him and see your boyfriend clinging to the masked man.

• “Take him. Mate had too much bourbon” Ghost is clearly tired and annoyed

• Soap would look at you and loudly whispers to Ghost. “She looks like Y/N, wait you were supposed to take me home L.T.”

• You’ll laugh at him for sure. Ghost throws him onto the couch and he’s already knocked out

• Oh how it’s hot in the bedroom 🧍‍♀️

• He’s a switch. Likes seeing you in control at times.

• If you have something sexy or new on then forget it. He’ll rip it off and get to action. (R.I.P your money)

• Praises you well and how he moans because of how tight it is for him

• Aftercare? He’ll most likely fall asleep on your chest when you’re done

• Please look after him when you shop

• You might need to put a leash on him

• Wanders around the stores and you can’t find him the next 30 minutes

• You were in line with the cart waiting for him once and he brought a NERF gun.

• “No, put it back.” He won’t stop. “Pleaseeee bonnie, it’s a new edition!!”

• You look at him with an almost offended look

• “You have a job with real guns and explosives is that not enough for you? Put it back.”

• yeah…

• You gave in and bought it for him

• Nightmares are present at times. Like 3-4 times a month

• You found him in the bathroom once against the wall hyperventilating

• You kneel in front of him and pull him to you. His response was to wrap his arms around your waist and he tries to catch his breath

• “Breathe Johnny…you’re safe with me baby, c’mon let’s go back to bed yeah?” He’ll nod and you lead him back to the bedroom

• You’ll give him water and lay next to him and he falls asleep hugging you with his face in your chest

379 notes · View notes

lvxybby · 8 months

Text

it kills me to love you (Kai Anderson x Reader) Angst (it will get better <3)

Ive been part of kais cult for about 4 weeks now. we have known each other before his cult was formed. its been 5 months since he gathered people to join, but he never told me about it until he proposed the idea for me to join. me and kai have always been big on getting things our way and if that didnt happen, there would be consequences for the person. but never killing them. or at least that idea was never in my mind. i dont know about him. i dont know much about him anymore. hes gone mad. absolutely crazy. and theres this woman. Meadow. Meadow Wilton. That stuck up bitch. And she is all over kai. i mean all over him. it goes from doing his hair. to sitting on his lap. to all out make out sessions between them. and me? im jealous as FUCK cause of it. that fucking bitch. ive loved and cared for kai for 2 years! i have given him every last bit of my attention. but he turns a blind eye every SINGLE time. but meadow. oh no...she slits some guys throat and "oh dear god meadow! your the best! you've done so much for me!" In kais eyes. fuck him. im DONE with his bullshit. "Kai!" i heard winter shout from downstairs. "Kai! meadow is here!" she shouted again. i heard very quick, heavy steps walk in front of my door than trail down the stairs. i sighed before grasping my journal to doodle in. my pencil lead dwindled as i drew on the plain white paper. i pressed harder as i drew faster. and faster. the grey color faded into a shiny black as i drew more lines. i stopped to enjoy my drawing. ive been good at drawing since i was about 13 and took art classes in middle school. the drawing was just a really detailed drawing of some spirals, something in really like to draw. but now...i wasnt feeling it. i closed the book shut and threw it across the room. i focused on the sounds around me. i focused more and more. on the sounds. "kai! oh kai yes!" i heard very muffled through the walls. why couldnt i cry out his name like that. did he not want me around? did i not do enough for him? ive been TRYING for years to please him! i cant stand to be in the same house with meadow and now im barely able to be with him. i couldnt bear to hear meadows moans for longer. i stuff my phone into my pocket and grab my tiny bag that has my wallet and other essentials in it. i walk downstairs and see winter on the couch. "where you heading?" she asked. "i dont know... anywhere but here...i cant stand your brother anymore..." i said before walking out the door. i walked for a bit before coming across a nice park. im slightly familiar with it cause they have some bird feeders, and me and kai along with everyone else poisoned them all around the city. i sat on one of the benches. after about 30 minutes my phone began to buzz. i looked at it and saw kai was calling. i also saw he left 12 messages, that i had unopened. i looked at the screen before answering. i took a deep breath in. "hello" i said. "where the fuck are you?! why havent you opened my messages?!" he shouted through the phone. "kai dont yell at me...talk to me" i said a bit angered. "no fuck that! answer my da-" he was cut off as i hung up with him. oh fuck im in trouble.

#part 2 soon #kai anderson #kai anderson x reader #american horror story kai anderson

18 notes · View notes

sakarrie-creates · 1 year

Text

2022 Art Summary

Sooooooooooooooooo, how late do I need to be to be considered fashionably late? Do I need to wait another month?

Anyway, here’s my 2022 art summary! I had to get a little unconventional just cause this year really wasn’t an art year haha. These aren’t in any specific order. My reflection questions are under the cut!

What events did you participate in (with art)? Player Appreciation Week, Pidge Angst Bang (raffle art), Code Secret Santa

What was your biggest challenge this year? I think my biggest challenge would have to be time. Just like with writing, school kind of swallowed up my chance to draw pretty effectively. That being said, I also had a rough time because I literally had 6 months of no consistent device. Trying to art while having a rotation of laptops that didn’t work right was very not ideal. And searching through all my files to find the art pics to compile for this kind of sucked too haha. Oh, and there was period of time where I legit thought I was going to need to leave CSP cause they were making some very questionable decisions. They’ve since gone back on the most important one though, so I think I probably will at least try.

What was something you were surprised by? I got to try out drawing with a 2 in 1 laptop/stylus which was interesting! I actually enjoyed it a lot more than I expected, even with lower pressure sensitivity and such. I also think I was surprised this year by just how much of a different filters can make. I’d messed around with them some last year, but hooboy, they’re a toolbox I feel like I’ve barely opened now.

Where do you think you most improved? Maybe my coloring? I was a lot less shy about coloring in different ways this year and I think it worked in most cases! I also think that I’m slowly getting more comfortable with just saying screw it with anatomy, which might not actually be improvement per se, but it means I’m more willing to try and fail which is always good for art.

What are you most proud of? I’m really not sure, tbh. I really like the lighting in the star wars au art, and I was proud of the Code Lyoko group picture just because I went for a huge group picture on a tight time frame and tried shading. That being said, I think I’m most proud of myself for storyboarding my 30 minutes animatic. That thing makes me so happy when I look at it and I really do like how it turned out, especially considering it’s my first time actually creating full thumbnails. I don’t actually have the thumbnails included above but the mountain/Player one in the bottom row is a concept sketch I created for one part of the animatic.

How’d this year compare to your 2022 goals? To be honest, not very closely haha. I was expecting art to be easier to combine with school since its lower brain power for me, but it was about as limited as writing. I do like what I did make though! In terms of specifics, I’m just going to go list item by list item from my last year’s reflection.

-Brushes: I’d say for how little art I did this year, I think I actually did try a fair amount of new brushes! Particularly with coloring, but also in doodles. -Shading and Lighting: I think comparatively I did okay in this area too. I definitely didn’t do as many colored pieces as I’d like, but I did almost as many colored/shaded pieces as doodles, which is a huge step forward from last year! -More Dynamic Scenes and Positions: Hmmmmmmmmm this one is hard to say. I do think I was a little more adventurous this year, but I definitely could have branched out from my comfort zone a bit more. -Experiment With 3D Sets!!!: Hahahhhhhaahhahahhahahahhahaa yeah, I don’t know that I even touched these this year oops. So gonna have to go with a hard fail on this one. -Post More: Mmmmmmmmm yeah no, this one also was not great. I think everything I posted was part of an event. Most of the art in my summary hasn’t even been shared outside my main 3-person discord server haha.

Alrighty then, now it’s time for 2023 goals!! Okay, so I’m really hoping that I’ll be able to do more this year. I missed creating a lot last year and I’ve got so much I’d like to do. It’s really hard to say with the uncertainty of a new school/program, but so far I’ve already created more art than last year, so my fingers are crossed. Having my Acer Spin with its built in wacom stylus really seems to have made a difference, so here’s to hoping! Specifics: -One fully colored piece per month -Finish Huntlow comic -Player Appreciation Week -Add to zine portfolio -Apply to at least one zine as an artist (fine if don’t get accepted) -30 minutes animatic digitalize rough draft -Pull out some old WIPs -Keep experimenting with backgrounds and shading -Maybe make some fanart of my favorite fics? As an author I’ve always been so flattered by those so I’d love to do the same for others -Build more consistency of style Overall, how’d the year go? I definitely don’t think it went the way I was hoping for it too, but at the same time, I made so much progress on animatics and really did try some new stuff out, so I don’t think it was too bad! Cutting myself some slack for quantity, I think I’m proud of most of what I did and have continued to gain experience/confidence. I’m looking forward to this year! Also as a reward for anyone who got this far, please take this quality finger art I did while trying to get a feel for angles of an angst scene. It was late and clearly my brain was not in angst mode by the end lol. Obviously, this is my true best art of the year.

#sakarrie's art #carmen sandiego #Voltron: Legendary Defender #Code Lyoko #cs player #cs carmen #cs shadowsan #cs ivy #cs zack #vld shiro #matt holt #Sissi Delmas #yumi ishiyama #ulrich stern #tw injury #shiro/matt #End of Year Reflection #art summary 2022

8 notes · View notes

starlighthan · 2 years

Note

hiiiii!! can u do 26 for han pls?? i love ur writing!!

TO THE RESCUE

pairing: non-idol!jisung and gender-neutral!reader

genre: fluff, very tiny angst, established relationship, university au

warnings: none

word count: 1.2k words

note: omg thank you so much for requesting! a lot of ideas popped in my head with the prompt you requested and i want to admit that the prompt just fits jisung so much! i hope you'll enjoy this <33

prompt/s: #26 - “that doesn't make any sense.” “it does! give your brain some time to understand!”

there are a few things in your mind that have been floating around for the past 30 minutes:

1. you are alone in this class, nobody wanted to sit beside you at all.

2. you hate this class. unfortunately, this is a major course so you really can’t skip this one.

3. you want to run to the door and skip this class without getting your professor’s attention.

4. and your professor is boring as hell until the point that you’re just staring at the whiteboard mindlessly.

you're thankful that your professor’s not looking at you and your classmates right now. he would’ve called you for an unexpected recitation. it looks like he’s just talking to the whiteboard.

doodling nonsense in your notebook, you check the time.

1:56 PM

you go back to staring at the whiteboard and— wait. four minutes left until this class ends.

you sigh, looking down to your notebook filled with colors and swishes. you still have class after this.

you’re kind of losing it and you seriously thought that your notebook is filled with so much energy and life compared to your own self.

carrying on to your usual doodling session whenever you’re not in the mood to listen to your class, you did not notice that somebody sat behind you and is trying to get your attention.

“...you hear me?”

unable to hear the first few words of the question, you look around in front of you to find the source. you weren’t sure who whispered near your ear because you were thinking of desperately getting out of this class.

slouching back to your chair, you try not to mind whatever voice you’ve been hearing for the past few minutes. you are not going insane.

for the person behind you, all it takes is to poke your shoulder repetitively until you’re out of your barely conscious state.

blinking, you found jisung at the seat behind you, looking like he’s avoiding other people like a plague. “why are you here?”

“because i would like to take you out of this hellhole if that’s alright with you?”

furrowing your eyebrows, you disagree, “i have a few minutes left. why are you even trying to make me skip class?”

“because i know you hate it here. i saw you in the windows and you look so done.”

you glance at the professor in front of you. seems like he’s still communicating with his whiteboard. you try to transfer to the seat beside jisung, “i’m free at night. you’re cool with that?”

“you still have class after this right?” jisung quickly checks his phone, reading the class schedule that you sent to him a few months back when the semester started. “oh, you still do.”

before you get to respond, you hear your professor dismissing your class.

smiling, you immediately pulled jisung out of the classroom and tell him, “thank god that’s over. i don’t want to whisper for the whole time, i’d get caught even with a single loud noise.”

“thank god it is over,” jisung rubs your shoulders as you walk, a sign of reassurance. “i might say, you are so unlucky having that professor.”

you heavily sigh this time, “yeah, i don’t know what came into my mind when i decided to enlist in this class with that person. everybody already warned me yet i settled for less.”

jisung beside you lightly laughs over the sudden drop of your energy. your shoulders are all the way down ever since you mentioned your class to him.

“you know what can get you out of those guilty feelings on your head?” the boy asked.

mumbling a what, he answers your small question, “a road trip to a resort!”

“now? or next month, because i have to prepare for my finals in a few weeks—”

lightly tugging your arm, he quickly responds, ”now. i know you’ll have your finals soon but i want you to take a break for a bit before you go to war.”

“aren’t breaks after the storm?” you asked. you stop his hand, making the both of you stop strolling.

“no, what i mean is that you should be in a good condition before you do something mentally exhausting,” jisung answered you, taking your shoulder bag and gently holding it for you. “i don’t want you to get sick when the exams come or when the exams end.”

still not in the right mind, you blurt out, “that doesn't make any sense.”

jisung gasps, “it does! give your brain some time to understand!”

he looks at you, waiting for your response. the raven-haired boy soothingly holds your hand, “let me repeat that again. i don’t want you to get sick and tired after preparing for your exams day and night. i’m taking you out just to have fun and take your mind off of things for a bit.”

his grip on your hand gets a little tighter, “i want you to be okay in the midst of chaos. that’s all i want for you.”

all of jisung’s words finally sinking into you, you feel a wave of shame for ignoring his true intentions. you’ve been unhealthily stressing out about your finals and your pending projects, absolutely blinded by your partner’s concern.

frowning, you finally respond, “i get you now. i really do.“

“sorry for misunderstanding your agenda for today. i still have class later on and it’s another bother to me. things are just overwhelming right now,” you hold his hand back, “and i’d love to go for a road trip with you.”

jisung smiles brightly, suggesting a completely new idea, “it’s alright. how about you skip that class?”

you snort, “i wish, but i don’t want to miss anything. important activities and announcements always happen every time i’m not in class.”

“you’re in the same class as seungmin, right?” jisung asked. receiving a nod, he continues, “i can ask a favor to him to take down important things from your class later.”

“you are trying to be the devil on my shoulder and i’d like to admit that your plans are working,” you pout, pulling him towards the university’s gates.

jisung smirks, a surge of confidence injected into his voice, “so you’re okay with skipping class? i hope you try it out this time. our road trip’s gonna be way more fun than your next class. you’re gonna enjoy the resort’s waterslides, i’m telling you!”

shushing him, you give in to his plans for you, “yes, jisung. i’m willing to skip class just for you.”

he chuckles, “for me? not for the road trip?”

you look at him and wink, “of course, i wouldn’t agree with this if it’s not you!”

his cheeks heating up, he opens the door and brings you outside. “you’re too sweet. be lucky that i really love you, i don’t do things like this for others.”

“i love that confession, i’d like to hear more of that when we go out more,” you bring your arm around him. “i really love you too, jisung.”

jisung getting way too shy at this point scratches his head and pulls you along on the sidewalk, “let’s get some things before leaving. we need some food and some extra clothes for the long ride.”

65 notes · View notes

raeandwhatnot · 3 years

Text

Lucky Charm – Luke Patterson

Summary: Luke is reminiscing about his relationship with you in the past.

Warnings: it’s a bit sad and angst… but also fluff

Words: 4.3k

A/N: (Y/D/J)= your dream job. This is 3rd person unlike my other imagines where I do it in 1st person. Might make a part two to this if y’all want it! I will be getting to y’alls requests ASAP! I’m so excited to write them! Also, italicized is flashback!

It’s been 25 years since Luke, Alex, and Reggie have died. The first thing that Luke thought of when he died wasn’t just his family, he thought of (Y/N). He thought of how he just left her. They were supposed to be together forever, but that forever was cut short from tainted hot dogs out of a car. The boys have been in the band with Julie for a while now, but Luke couldn’t help but think something was missing while he performed. (Y/N) was that missing puzzle piece. He always called her his lucky charm because he would always perform his best when she was in the crowd.

“Are you going to come to the dance tonight, (Y/N/N)?” Alex asks as the Sunset Curve group walks with the girl to their shared class.

“Hmmm,” (Y/N) hums. “I’m not sure. I have a lot of homework I need to catch up on.”

Luke groans and rolls his eyes at the girl’s excuse. “Oh come on, (Y/N)!” he exclaims, walking in front of her, making him walk backwards. “You have got to live a little every once in a while! All you do is worry about school work. You need to come to the dance. The best band is going to play at the dance!”

(Y/N) tilts her head, “Oh yeah? What band?”

“Sunset Curve, duh!” Reggie says. (Y/N) giggled as she already knew the answer to her question.

“Please?” Bobby pouts. “It’s going to be a lot of fun!”

The group stops outside of the classroom door and she looks at the boys. They all had pleading looks on their faces.

“(Y/N), please!” Luke begs, grabbing her shoulders. “I need my lucky charm tonight. I promise tonight will be worth it!”

(Y/N) looks down at the charm bracelet the boys got her for her 17th birthday. The boys collectively got a charm for her bracelet that meant something to them. Luke got her a clover as she is his lucky charm. She looks back up at the green eyes staring at her waiting for her to answer.

“Fine,” (Y/N) sighed. “I will go to the dance, but you have to promise me that you guys will dance with me!” Luke smiles and pulls her into a quick hug. The rest boys cheered and high fived one another.

Luke wished he could go back to that night. It was a few months before they started dating. He and (Y/N) slow danced together which made him realize that he that had feelings for the girl in the first place. He realized why she was his lucky charm, why his heart would always skip a beat when she laughed, why his palms would get sweaty when she held his hand, why he would always want to be around her because she made him feel safe. He couldn’t stop thinking about her even in the afterlife. He would wonder where she is. Did she get married and have a family? Did she follow her dreams to become a(n) (Y/D/J)? Did she live her life to the fullest? Did she-

Luke’s thoughts were interrupted by a voice calling out to him, “Hey, Luke!” His eyes tore away from his journal he zoned out on. He saw Alex and Reggie standing in front of him.

“Hm?” Luke hummed, sitting up from leaning against the piano.

Alex took a step closer and asks, “Are you okay?”

Luke tosses his journal on the couch and takes off the acoustic guitar that was wrapped around his chest. “Yeah! Just thinking about a new song!” Luke said. Alex tucks his hands into his jacket’s pockets as he doesn’t believe that Luke is okay. He has been spacing out a lot recently.

“Cool! What is it about?” Reggie questions.

“Uh, I’m not sure yet,” Luke answers. “I was just brainstorming. Trying to think of a meaning to it.” Alex turns his attention to the journal. Luke had doodled clovers around the edges of the paper. Alex taps Reggie with his shoulder and tilts his head at the journal. Reggie analyzes the book, realizing what Luke has been thinking about.

“You making another song about (Y/N)?” Reggie wonders, still looking at the song book.

Luke glances at what Reggie was looking. “I don’t know. She’s just been on my mind recently,” he sighs and looks at the floor. Alex and Reggie nod in agreement as they too have been thinking about their friend.

Alex takes another step towards Luke, “Do you want to talk about it?” Luke kept his eyes glued to the ground. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to talk about her. He didn’t know if it would make him feel better, or if he would just burst into tears.

His thoughts were interrupted once more as Julie skips into the room. “Ready to rehearse, guys?” Julie smiles.

Luke puts on a happy face, “Hell, yeah! Let’s rock out!”

Alex and Reggie look at one another, concerned for their best friend who seems to be hurting. The group walks to their respective spots in the studio.

“What song should we start with?” Luke asks as he plugs his electric guitar into the amp.

Julie flipped her song book. “Should we warm up with Finally Free? We haven’t done that song in a while,” Julie suggest.

Luke look at the boys who were nodding their heads in agreement. “Sounds good to us!” he answers for the group.

Julie starts off the song with her intro, and the rest of the band joined in. As they were performing, Luke messed up here and there, but not enough to notice. At least Julie didn’t notice as she was rocking out with the boys. When they finished Finally Free, they decided to do a new song Julie had started writing. They hadn’t settled on a title just yet which was okay because it was still in the works. They started to practice the first verse going into the chorus, but Luke wasn’t 100% focused. He kept playing the wrong chords.

Because he messed up, he let out a load, frustrated groan. The rest of the band halted their actions to look at Luke. “Woah, you good?” Julie asks concerned.

Luke shakes his vigorously to try to get his mind straight, “Yeah! I’m just not used to the pattern yet. Let’s try again.”

Julie looks at Alex and Reggie. They both shrug their shoulders, and they start the song again. However, this time Luke could barely get past the intro without messing up. He tried to continue, but he couldn’t do it.

“Damn it!” Luke shouts, dropping his guitar to hover over his chest as he roughly runs his hands through his hair.

Julie stands up from his keyboard. “Luke?” she softly says. Luke could feel the tears welling up in his eyes.

“I-uh,” Luke stutters as he takes off his guitar. “I need s-some air.” Luke suddenly then poofs out without another word.

Julie looks at the empty space where Luke was standing. She couldn’t figure out why Luke wasn’t in the right head space. He was always focused on the band, or at least he always seems to be. Julie takes her eyes from the dead space to Alex and Reggie who had sad looks on their faces. Reggie takes his bass off and sets it next to Luke’s guitar.

Julie steps off to the side of her keyboard. “What’s up with him?” she asks Alex and Reggie. They glance at each other before Alex steps away from his drums to standing next to Reggie.

“We’ve been thinking about an old friend from back in the 90’s,” Alex confesses.

Julie shrugs her shoulder, “Who? Bobby?”

Reggie shakes his head. “Gosh, no. I wouldn’t want to spend my spare time thinking about that song stealing dummy,” Reggie says in disgust.

“She wasn’t part of Sunset Curve. At least she didn’t perform with us. Her name was (Y/N),” Alex states, ignoring what Reggie said about Bobby.

“(Y/N)? How come I’ve never heard you guys talk about her?” Julie wonders. Both Alex and Reggie shrug their shoulders, unsure why they never talk about one of their best friends. “Well, who was she then?”

A slight smile grew on Alex and Reggie as they thought of (Y/N). Alex started to reminisce the memories of his old friend, “She was one of the most important people in our lives. She helped us with our struggles, helped us study, came to almost all of our gigs, helped us get gigs… she was just the glue of Sunset Curve. We wouldn’t hardly function as a band if it wasn’t for her. She was even the one who got us the gig at the Orpheum…”

It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, and Sunset Curve was writing a new song for their new demo. They wanted to make new songs as they always perform the same songs at every gig. “Hey boys,” Luke calls out. Bobby was playing random notes on his guitar, Alex was trying balance his drumstick on his index finger, and Reggie was catching dust. They all turned to Luke who had written some stuff in his song book. “How does this sound? When all the days felt black and white those were the best shades of my life!” Luke sings.

“Dang, Luke!” Bobby exclaimed. “That’s really good! How did you come up with that?”

“I don’t know. It just came to me!” Luke smirks. “I’m also half way done with the song!”

“It’s been, what, 30 minutes and you’re already half way done?!” Alex says. Luke nods his head as he writes down more in his journal. Next thing they know, they hear clicking heels coming from the driveway. They all look up to see (Y/N) with a huge smile on her face.

“Uh, oh. Here comes trouble,” Luke teases. “What’s got you all smiley, babes?”

(Y/N) stops at the entry way of the studio. “Well, I have some pretty big news to tell you boys!” she says, shifting her weight from the balls of her feet to her feels.

“What? You got the best SAT’s scores of the school?” Bobby asks.

“You’re graduating a semester early?” then asks Alex.

“No! You got us a puppy?!” Reggie asks excitedly. The boys looked at Reggie as if he asked the most absurd question ever.

(Y/N) giggled, “As much as I would love to give you a puppy, Reggie, you are incorrect. All of you are incorrect. I just did the best thing that is ever going to happen to Sunset Curve!”

Luke raised an eyebrow, curious at what his girlfriend could have done. “What did you do?” The group slowly walks towards (Y/N). Her smile thinned out as she took a pause for dramatic effect. However, the boys were anticipatingly waiting for her to say something. “WHAT?!” they outburst.

(Y/N) chuckled at the band, and she took out a piece of paper from her back pocket. She cleared her throat dramatically before readings out loud, “Dear Miss (Y/L/N). Thank you for sending us Sunset Curve’s demo and sharing their amazing talent. We would like to offer them the chance of a lifetime. On July 22nd, we would like to invite Sunset Curve to perform here at the…” (Y/N) looks up at the guys who got even closer to her and each other.

“Perform where?!” Reggie shouts.

(Y/N) smiles even wider than ever before she throws her arms in the air and shouts, “TO PERFORM AT THE ORPHEUM BABY!” All four boy’s eyes widened and screamed out happy cheers. Luke tackles (Y/N) in the biggest hug. She wraps her legs around his waist as he ran to the drive way to spin her around.

“This is amazing!” Luke exclaimed, putting his girlfriend down. “You really are our lucky charm!” (Y/N) blushes at the compliment. Luke then presses his lips to hers to give her a sweet kiss. She smiles in the kiss as she is the happiest she has ever been.

“Hey, Patterson. Let us give (Y/N/N) some lovin’!” Bobby tugged on Luke’s shoulders which makes the couple pull away from each other. Alex, Bobby, and Reggie then take their chance to hug (Y/N). Luke joined in by hugging her from behind. They boys thanked the girl over and over again as they were in their group hug.

“Guys!” (Y/N)’s voice muffled from the inside of the hug. “One of you guys need to put on deodorant. Plus, I can’t breathe in here!” They all laughed at her and pulled away from the hug, but Luke kept his arms wrapped around the girl from behind.

“What would we do without you?” Alex smiles.

(Y/N) let out a playful sigh, “I don’t know. Never be able to play anywhere?” She giggled at her own joke. Luke sneaks in a kiss on the cheek. “Alright boys, you need to start rehearsing now that you have this mega-important life changing gig! I will order some pizza and soda so we can celebrate even more tonight!”

“You’re the best (Y/N)!” Bobby says before walking back into the studio with Alex and Reggie.

“You really are the best,” Luke whispers in (Y/N) ear. She turns around and gives him a peck on the lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, too”

Julie felt her heart drop at the thought of Luke hurting even more for leaving behind two of the most important women in is life. Luke is not that open about his past life. Julie couldn’t imagine the pain he has been going through. Alex and Reggie had tears welling up in their eyes as they finished telling the story of how they booked the Orpheum gig. Her mind wandered to a song that she saw when she was flipping through Luke’s song book when Luke wanted to show her Sunset Curve songs. She remembered walking to the studio to hear Luke singing a song she never heard before, but she recognized some of the lyrics from his song book. “She sounds amazing. Do you guys have an old photo of her at all?” Julie questions.

Reggie looks at Alex, knowing he has a picture. “Yeah, I do actually. However, Luke doesn’t know, so please don’t tell him we have this,” Alex says, walking over to his fanny pack that was near his drums.

Julie tilts her head to the side in confusion, “Why doesn’t he know about you having a picture of her?”

Alex grabs his fanny pack and unzips it. “Luke’s been pretty happy recently, but I know that thinking about (Y/N) makes him a little sad. I would hate to show him a picture that brings back all these happy memories to make him sad that they didn’t get to have more of a life together,” Alex explains. Julie slowly nods her head.

Alex reaches in his back and grabs the polaroid picture. He walks back to Julie and hands her the photo. She slightly smiles at the picture. It was of (Y/N) and Luke. (Y/N) had a big smile on her face as Luke was giving her a kiss on the cheek. You could see the pure happiness radiating from the photograph. “Wow, she’s really pretty. Luke was a lucky guy!” Julie compliments. “You know, I’m sure Luke would love to have this picture. I think it’s time you guys should give it to him.”

Julie hands the picture back to Alex. Reggie started to play with his fingers nervously. Alex analyzes the picture in his hand and puts it in his back pocket. “We should probably go look for him,” Alex says quietly. Reggie nods his head and stands closer to Alex. Julie gives the boys a slight smile before they poofed out of the studio.

*****

Luke was sitting at the beach, the water hitting his feet when it came to shore. He watched the sunset which was helping him calm down. Him and (Y/N) liked to come to the beach and watch the sunrise, the sunset, and star gaze all the time! This was their spot when they wanted to get away from everyone and have a bit of privacy with just them two. They would invite the band sometimes to have bonfires and eat s’mores after a gig. Luke watched the lifers around him playing in the water and having fun at the beach. He wished he could join the teenagers jamming in a big circle across the beach.

Suddenly, he hears a poof behind him. He turns around to see Alex and Reggie. “Well, you guys found me,” Luke quietly says, turning back to face the sunset. In his peripheral vision, he saw his friends sit on both sides of him, Alex on his right and Reggie on his left.

“I figured you would be here. You are kind of predicable sometimes,” Alex says. Luke nods his head slightly, agreeing with Alex. “What’s up, Luke?”

Luke lets out a heavy sigh. He takes a handful of sun and lets it fall in-between his fingers. “I just..” he starts. “I just wish I could see her again. I wish I could hold her. I want to know how she’s doing. I wish I knew where she was, so I could see her one last time…”

Reggie patted Luke’s back to try to comfort him, “It’s okay, buddy. I know we all wish we could see her again.”

Luke shakes his head, angry tears forming in his eyes. “Sometimes I wish we didn’t die when we did. There was so much we wanted to do as a band, and there was so much I wanted to do with (Y/N),” Luke exclaims.

Luke shifts his weight to the left to reach in his front pocket. What he takes out of his pocket shocks Alex and Reggie. Luke is holding their best friends charm bracelet. “Wait, you’ve had this this whole time?” Alex asks. Luke nods his head, a tear finally falling on his cheek. Luke turns the bracelet to have the clover charm facing him.

“I found it at my parent’s house. When I first went there to visit them, I went to look at my room to see if anything changed. I found it on my bed with some of my flannels she stole. I don’t know why she would give it back. Maybe because looking at it gave her so much pain. I can’t imagine the pain she went through,” Luke explains.

Alex glances at Reggie who had tears brewing in his eyes as well. He suddenly became anxious as he wasn’t sure how Luke was about to react with what Alex was about to give him. He nervously fidgets before he speaks, “I actually have something to show you.”

Luke turns his gaze to Alex. Alex opens his fanny pack to reach for the photograph. Luke looks at his friend’s hand to see the polaroid picture. He hesitantly grabs the photo. He lets out a sad chuckle. It was the picture of (Y/N) and Luke. “Where did you find this?” Luke asks.

“I found it when I found our stuff upstairs in the loft. I’m sorry I didn’t give this to you earlier,” Alex apologizes.

Luke shakes his head to dismiss Alex’s apology. He studies the picture of the two of them. He remembered this day vividly. It was him and (Y/N)’s first date. He had taken her to a drive-in movie and ice cream. The picture was taken right before the movie had started. (Y/N) had always taken polaroid pictures for the memories. She had given this to Luke because she wanted him to remember that day, but how could he forget? He would never forget her or the memories they shared.

(Y/N) and Luke were setting up the back of his truck before the movie. Luke was spreading out the blanket and pillows while (Y/N) was grabbing the snacks from the front. Once they finished, they jumped in the trunk and started to get comfortable. “Are you excided?” Luke asks (Y/N).

She pulls the blanket to her lap, “Yes! I’ve always wanted to go to a drive-in movie!” Luke smiles at her excitedness.

“I know!” Luke says. (Y/N) slightly smiles and looks down at her lap, blushing. “Which snack would you like to eat first, m’lady?” he asks in a dramatic British accent.

(Y/N) giggles. “Hmmm, why sir pass me the sour gummy worms!” she replies too in a silly British accent.

Luke chuckles, grabs the snack, and hands it to her. She opens the bag and takes out a blue and red gummy worm. She eats the blue side first and looks at Luke who was watching her the whole time. She could feel her cheeks getting warmer. She flicks her wrist to give the red side of the gummy worm to Luke. He looks at the gummy worm before grabbing it and taking a bite. “This is crazy, you know?” (Y/N) admits.

Luke sits up a bit and furrows his brows. “How?” he questions.

She shrugs. “I don’t know,” she mumbles. “Sitting here.. on a date.. with one of my best friends who I’ve had a crush on for forever. I never thought it would actually happen.”

She kept her gaze on her lap, playing with a gummy worm. Luke cocks his head to the side to try to get her to look at him. However, she continues to look down. He takes his hand and pushes her chin gently to face her towards him. She looks into his green eyes. “Well, you better believe it because I wouldn’t want to be on a date with anyone else,” he says. He tilts her head down and gives her a kiss on the forehead.

(Y/N) then remembered that she had her camera in her bag. “Wait!” she exclaims. Luke moves to the side a bit as she reaches for her bag that is behind them. She unzips her bag to grab her polaroid camera. “I want to take a picture!”

“How come you always bring that where ever you go?” Luke wonders.

She fidgets the camera in her hands. “I want to create memories. I want to remember my adventures and experiences. I want to remember it all, so I take pictures,” she says, checking to see if she has enough film.

Luke smiles, “That’s amazing!”

(Y/N) scoots closer to Luke and angles the camera up to get them both in frame. They smile, getting ready to take the picture. He then had an idea for a great picture. Right as she pushes the button, he kisses her cheek. (Y/N) smiles even wider and lets out a slight giggle. The film shoots out and she grabs the photo. She looks at Luke who was smiling like a kid in a candy store. You could see the love and adore in his eyes. Luke flicks his eyes to her lips for a second, but it was enough for her to notice. He leans in, but she stops him. “I thought you weren’t supposed to kiss until after the date. Or even on the first date at all?” (Y/N) jokes.

“We can be different,” Luke smirks before giving her a kiss. As his lips touch her, she takes in a large breath and leans forward in the kiss. He takes his hand and places it on her cheek to deepen the kiss. Butterflies were flying around in their stomachs. (Y/N) pulls away slowly.

Luke opens his eyes to see her cheeks were bright red. “The movies about to start,” (Y/N) says. He chuckles and pecks her lips one more time. They shift around to where they were laying down, resting on the pillows behind them. (Y/N)’s head rested on Luke’s shoulder. She grabs the bag of sour gummy worms and takes a handful out. “Gummy worms?” she asks Luke.

Luke looks down to see her handing him some gummy worms. “Don’t mind if I do,” he says and takes the candy out of her hand to place it on his chest. As the movie starts, Luke smiles to himself. He’s on one of many dates him and (Y/N) will be on, and he couldn’t wait.

Luke didn’t notice that he was full on sobbing when he was reminiscing on the past. He suddenly felt a hand rubbing his back, trying to comfort him. He looks to see Reggie comforting him. Luke pats Reggie on the back to thank him. “It’s okay to be sad, Luke,” Alex says. Luke looks at Alex and nods. “You don’t have to be strong all the time.”

Luke thins his lip in a sad smile. Luke puts the photo and the bracelet back in his front pocket. He wipes his wet face and sniffs the snot that his slightly falling out of his nose. “Let’s get back to the studio. Even though we don’t sleep, I need a nap,” Luke says, getting up and wiping the sand off of his pants.

Luke looks around the beach once more to see the lifers having fun. Alex and Reggie follow Luke’s actions and stand up as well. Luke walks towards the teenagers still playing their guitars and singing around the fire. He watches them smile and laugh with one another. Alex places his hand on Luke’s shoulder to signal that they should leave.

Before they poofed back to the studio, Luke noticed someone in the distance. He saw someone watching the group of teenagers like he was. He noticed the (Y/H/C) girl wiping away a tear from her eye. Then, their eyes connected. He recognized those (Y/E/C) eyes. He squints and walks closer to get a better look. He halted as he got a little closer. His heart beat quickened at the sight of her.

“(Y/N)?” he whispered before the girl poofed away. Luke’s breath started to quicken as he couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Luke?” Reggie called out. Luke turned around. “What��s wrong?”

“I think I just saw (Y/N)!”

#luke patterson #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x reader #jatp luke #japt #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms imagine

161 notes · View notes

dilexit · 3 years

Text

To be Young and Dumb ~ Karl Jacobs Edition

Summary: In which (Y/N) and Karl forget their 22 for a minute

Pairing and Pronouns: CC!Karl x GN!Reader (preestablished relationship). Reader is mentioned to have a brother but that could be changed to sister or friend easily

Each edition to this series has a different plot just under the same name and same idea of safe spontaneous things

Hey so I’ve been a little bit MIA but so I’ve been having a wave of depression especially due to the school year ending and my fear of change and stuff like that so I’ll be writing a few imagines titled To be Young and Dumb just about doing so safe spontaneous things that I do during these episodes so I hope y’all enjoy and know that if you are struggling rn you are not alone in this and we believe in you

Warnings: Cars, Depression (not mentioned but implied), Self Doubt, Talk of growing up, Angst to Fluff, probably swearing, Not proof read

Requested: Yes No

(Y/N) had a love hate relationship with adulthood. They loved the freedom it gave them, but also missed the ability to just be childish. (Y/N) had just got back from visiting the house they grew up in, and couldn't help the feeling of sadness grow in their stomach. Walking around and looking at all old memories and photos made them think back to all the things they could have been. These episodes of self doubt have happened before, and they always hurt. The easiest way to get rid of it was to distract themselves, but their favorite distraction was in the other room streaming. (Y/N) turned on the TV and wrapped up into their favorite blanket watching nostalgic movies to feel like a child again, waiting for their boyfriend to end stream and spend time with them. For (Y/N) nostalgia would present itself in less of a joyful way and more of a longing for it to be the present again way. Giving in to it always feels great in the short-lived moments, but (Y/N) just longed for Karl to help them take the pain away. As if the universe could hear their thoughts, the sound of Karl's door opening followed by footstep could be heard from above. When Karl made it down stairs, he immediately noticed the way (Y/N) was laying on the couch surrounded by their blankets and stuffed animals, and the land before time on the TV.

"Hey baby," he said sitting down on the end on couch near (Y/N)'s feet. "Are you ok?". Karl knew they weren't, and that and just sitting here would be much help. As Karl suspected (Y/N) shook their head no and leaned in to bury their face into Karl's shoulder. Karl look over their head to see the sun was still up and shining, thinking (Y/N) could benefit from the fresh air.

"Why don't we go for a walk, it's warm out," Karl offered, to which (Y/N) let out a groan, but got up anyway.

"Fine, but let me change first," they said stretching a little bit. They went upstairs finding their clothes and deciding on some black shorts and their favorite shirt to wear in the 77 degree heat. Walk back down the stairs, they saw no sign of Karl, but the front door open a little bit. Heading out the door into his driveway, they turned to see Karl standing in the open garage. (Y/N) started walking towards him, but as they got closer, they noticed something behind him. Walking past Karl much to his dismay (Y/N) landed at the green box on the shelf.

"Do we have to walk?" (Y/N) asked, pointing at the container of chalk.

"Oh, I guess we don't," Karl responded, and (Y/N) felt a wave of happiness rush over them.

"Can we use?" (Y/N) asked, still pointing towards the large container of sidewalk chalk.

"Yeah Jimmy used it for a video and left it with me I never thought I ever get rid of it." He said walking with his SO and taking a seat on the driveway. (Y/N) reached for the red chalk and started drawing. Karl watched over their shoulder ad they started drawing a rose. Karl went a grabbed a purple piece of chalk and started absent-mindedly drawing. When (Y/N) had quickly grown bored with their rose and turned to Karl. He didn't really know what he was doing, and it showed. (Y/N) let out a giggle and scooted closer to him.

"Whatcu drawing?" (Y/N) asked catching Karl off guard.

"Oh! I don't really know, to be honest." He said and (Y/N) leaned over and drew a big red heart in the middle of Karl's doodles. Karl looked up at them and giggled, leaning in to give them a quick peck. A small breeze rustled the leafs of nearby trees a blew around loose chalk particles. The couple went back to drawing together mainly hearts and smiley faces as they made some conversation.

"You know my brother and I would make obstacle courses around our drive way on days like these," (Y/N) laughed.

"Corry, Sean and I were much more boring we would just go on like bike rides together if we even wanted to spend time with each other." Karl retorted.

"Yeah (Y/B/N) and I really didn't hang out much, but sometimes we would have fun. It was mainly competitions and stuff like that. But every now and then we would just sit aa draw a bunch of random stuff," (Y/N) felt much better while they passed stories back and forth.

"My mom wouldn't let us have chalk because we were too messy with it." Karl joked back looking down at his chalk covered hands. (Y/N) also took not of the chalk covering their hands and quickly rubbed their hand in to a red heart.

"You know what our favorite thing to do with chalk was?" (Y/N) questioned

"No what was it," Karl asked leaning forward a bit.

"This," (Y/N) giggled lightly hitting Karl's chest leaving a red handprint on his shirt. Karl opened his mouth in slight defense while giggling at the gesture reaching out and leaving a green mark on (Y/N)'s shorts. Karl then reached for a few more hearts covering his hands, while (Y/N) grabbed a stray piece of chalk and running away. Karl quickly noticed their absents and chased after them. He caught up to them quickly and grabbed their waist pulling them close. His hands left blue marks on their waist, and their hands were covered in the green chalk they had picked up before. (Y/N) wriggled into Karl's arms, facing him again, taking their chalk covered fingers and running them on his face. After (Y/N), brought theirs onto Karl's arms, that were still on their waist. Karl looked at their face and brought his hands up to their cheek pulling them in. The minute their lips touch and chill went down (Y/N)'s spine, the bits of wonder they had shared in the hour of messing around was all (Y/N) needed to remember why they loved who they are now. As the kiss kept on going (Y/N), was sure both parties were covered in chalk. They didn't know how long it would take for them to pull apart. Instead of stopping by choice, they were pulled apart by a car horn and Chris yelling from the car window.

"We've been waiting for you two for 30 minutes. Now I see you were busy, but go change and hurry up."

"Crap! Let's go," Karl said pulling (Y/N)'s arm, leading them back instead to get ready for the video they forgot about.

#karl x reader #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs x you #karl jacobs x y/n #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x reader #karl jacobs fanfic #dream smp x reader

56 notes · View notes

cno-inbminor · 4 years

Text

immergo

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

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

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

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

word count: 21.9k (this is a monster)

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

edit: now crossposted onto AO3 here!

You are five years old when you first meet him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Apologies accepted, you dummies.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Iwa-chan is being mean, I’m not--”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Promise that you’ll never leave me.”

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

“I promise.”

And his lips crash onto yours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I kissed (y/n).”

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

“But why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There’s just no way.

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

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

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

“He’s worried about you, y’know?”

“I know.”

“He misses you.”

“I know.”

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

“...which one?”

“The kiss.”

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

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

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

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

This time, Iwaizumi is confused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know I am.”

Silence.

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

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

“Tooru, wake up.”

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

“Tooru, wake up. I have food.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have a girlfriend now, guys!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Becauseimtooobsessedwithvolleyball,” he mutters quickly.

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

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

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

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

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

“Mmm, three times. No, four.”

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

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

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

“Can I help?”

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

“Good riddance.”

“Stoooppp!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, dude, calm down--”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But did you like it?”

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

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

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

“So can I please kiss you?”

What?

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

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

And you can’t help but nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re okay, right?”

You nod. Don’t we have to be?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...say what now?”

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

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

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

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

“Tell your girlfriend I said hi!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“sounds good. see you then.”

“see you guys xx”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, it has been.”

Silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oikawa does his best to stay true to his word.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’m so fucking in love with (y/n).

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But—”

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t do that! I—”

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

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

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

“…yeah.”

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

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

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

“We can come help you if you want.”

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

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

“It’s exactly what I think.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tooru!”

“Okay, okay, fine~.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was this going to be his last chance?

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

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

“Tooru, we need to eat dinner though.”

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

“That doesn’t make any sense though.”

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

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

“Mmm…did you make it?”

“Yes, I did.”

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

“Not at all.”

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

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

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

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

“A few years sounds like forever though.”

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

“I know, but…”

“But what?”

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

“Tooru, what—”

“I love you, (y/n).”

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

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

“(Y/n), please—”

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

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

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

“(Y/n), I—”

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

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

“Tooru, you—”

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

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

“You’d still be my everything.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I still call you?”

“Of course, you big wuss,” you tease.

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

“You need to leave soon, Tooru.”

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

“Tooru—”

“Only if you kiss me before I leave.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good night, (y/n). I love you.”

Yes, it’s amazing how lucky you are.

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

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

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

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

“Mom…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(epilogue)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”I’m home, (y/n).”

fin.

606 notes · View notes

peachymarkeu · 3 years

Text

𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: NCT 127 x OC

𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓻𝓮: Fluff, Angst & Suggestive

𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: What is it like being an 18 year old girl that had just moved into her new apartment and then suddenly meeting the people she would consider to be her brothers while being away from her parents?

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 4: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓒𝓸𝓶𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓽 𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓘 𝓝𝓮𝓮𝓭𝓮𝓭

Kringg...Kringg...Kring…

‘Uh- the hell is that sound, can’t you see I’m sleeping’ I thought.

The ringing sound stopped for a while so I continued sleeping peacefully until.

Kringg…Kringg... Kring…

‘Oh come on again.’ I thought in my sleep again.

Once again the ringing stopped and I went back to sleep again.

Kringg....Kringg...Kringg…

“Aish what is that sound.” I said while looking for my phone on the nightstand.

I was pushing stuff off the stand until I found my phone. When I got it I realized that it was the one that was making the loud ringing noise.

“Agh- I was sleeping so well then I heard this aish. The hell its only ei-” I cut my rambling once I saw the details on my phone.

January 8, 2021 | Monday | 8:30 am

‘Shit, I’m LATE!’

I got up as quickly as I could and went straight to the bathroom. Since I’m already so late there was no time to take a shower and fix my hair and stuff. All I did was brush my teeth, comb my hair and started to put on my uniform. After putting on my uniform I went out of the bathroom and went straight to my front door to put on my shoes. I didn’t bother getting breakfast at this point, I can just eat something in the cafeteria. After putting on my shoes I got my school bag, coat and keys and went out of my apartment. Once I got out I saw Auntie Minjie getting ready to go out, to the grocery i guess since she there was a little shopping stroller beside her.

“Oh good morning Yuna!” Auntie Minjie Greeted me.

“Good morning Auntie Minjie! Sorry I really need to go now I'm super late for school!” I told her while running backwards towards the elevator.

“Have a good day and travel safe!” she told me while waving.

“Thank you! You too!” I yelled back still while running.

I was near the elevator and saw the doors slowly closing.

“WAIT!” I yelled and put my hand in between the doors before it closed so that It wouldn’t close.

I got inside and leaned on the elevator walls. The ground floor button was already pressed so I didn’t have to worry about that anymore. I closed my eyes while trying to catch my breath from all the running.

‘Ugh, what way to start the week’ I thought to myself

My hair was covering my face which was why I couldn’t really see whoever was inside the elevator as well. I didn’t even care who was inside. The only thing in my mind was getting to school before the bell rings. I checked the time using my phone and saw 8;45 am flashed on my screen. This was a huge problem. Still need to learn how to get to my school from my apartment. I hit my head 3 times and tried to compose a plan before getting off the elevator.

‘Ok so I’ll search for the directions on my phone, make a run for it and pray that I’ll be able to get to school on time.’ I formulated my plan in my head.

I opened my navigation app and placed my location and the school’s location. I loaded real quickly so I saw the calculations and directions for me to get to my school. It said that it was a 30 minute walk to my school from my apartment so if I run to school I might get there twice as fast and half the time.

Once the elevator doors opened I sprinted out the elevator and the building. I kept running while looking at my phone for the directions. I was halfway to my school until I tripped and scraped my knees. I saw that my shoes were untied. I guess I didn’t notice them getting untied while I was running.

“Aish you’re so stupid Yuna. You should’ve double tied your shoes so that this wouldn't have happened now you’re wasting time.” I said, talking to myself like a crazy person.

I got up again and checked my phone for the directions. I checked the time and it read 8:55 am. I only had 5 minutes left. I ran as fast as I could until I reached my school. When I arrived I was already 10 minutes late for class. I sprinted up the stairs up until the 3rd floor. I arrived at my classroom and opened the sliding door forcefully which made a loud noise. Every head in the classroom turned to me including the teacher.

“Kim Yuna late.” the teacher announced to the class.

“I’m sorry sir I woke up late this morning and-” I rambled.

“I don’t care about your excuses so go and take your seat. You’ve already disturbed the class.” the teacher snapped at me.

I bowed to him still as a sign of respect and quietly proceeded to my seat. As I walked across the room all eyes were still on me. Classmates of mine were whispering at each other and were chuckling while looking at me. I must’ve looked like such a wreck. I felt so humiliated that I kept my head down while walking. When I reached my empty seat, I saw my elementary friend, Lee Sungho sitting beside it.

“Hey Yuna, you alright…?” he asked me carefully.

Before I could answer him the teacher cut me.

“So what were we discussing before I was rudely interrupted by your classmate Miss Kim Yuna?” he said, emphasising the word rudely as if he was rubbing it on my face.

I heard a few of my classmates laughing before the teacher continued with his lesson. I’ve never felt so humiliated in my life that tears were brimming my eyes. I felt Sungho tap my shoulder lightly as a sign of comfort. I looked at him and gave him a small smile, assuring him that I was alright. After that I tried my best to focus on the discussion while restricting myself from letting my tears fall.

*School Chime Ring*

“Class Dismissed. Everyone may now step out of the classroom except for Ms. Kim Yuna” the teacher said while fixing his things on his desk.

‘Well shit’ I thought to myself.

“Yuna-yah, I’ll wait for you outside,” Sungho told me. I bowed to him as an acknowledgment as he strutted out the classroom.

Slowly, I walked to the front of the classroom to Mr. Park’s table. He was fixing some papers on his desk when he lifted his head and looked at me very sternly.

“Miss Kim, I am quite disappointed with you. You are close to failing my class then I see you come to class 15 minutes late.” he said in a very strict manner.

“I’m sorry” I said, bowing my head.

“You are in your senior year. You know that grades are very important to pass your college. You better study and get your grades up. I don’t want to see you coming to class late again. If you continue to have bad grades, say goodbye to entering college because there is no way I will be passing you in my class.” Mr. Park said while grabbing his things and stepping out of the classroom.

I was left alone in the classroom with tears streaming down my face. As I felt them cascading down, I rubbed them off using the back of my hand. I got my things and went outside to meet Sungho who was waiting for me.

“Yah, you alright?” Sungho asked me. His face was full of concern.

“Hm… I’m alright.” I said hiding my sadness with a small smile.

We proceeded to go to the cafeteria for lunch. When we got there, students were lined up, some were even cutting in line just to get what they wanted. Sungho and I waited patiently in line. He sparked up a conversation about his funny experience during his soccer training yesterday. I laughed at all his stories which made my mood become better until.

“Yah move” she said in a very annoyed tone. She cut in line and was now infront of me.

Gwan Aeri. The girl who seems to be so annoyed with me everytime. I don’t know why she’s so annoyed with me since I never did anything to her. Plus, she’s my number one bully. She would push me around, embarrass me and all that stupid stuff. Good thing she wasn’t in Mr. Park’s class. If she was, I would be suffering a lot by now.

I saw her getting her food already so Sungho and I got our trays and started to get food as well. She didn’t get much only bread and milk. I saw her open the milk carton and turn towards me. She bumped me intentionally and “accidentally” spilled her milk on me. My uniform top was drenched in milk.

“Oops, sorry.” Aeri said to me without any sincerity.

All the students inside the cafeteria were looking at me. Some were whispering, somewhere chuckling at me again. Sungho took off his jacket and put it on my shoulders to cover me up. Tears were pricking my eyes again from the second time I got humiliated. I continued to get my food with Sungho. Sungho thought that it was better to eat out in the schoolyard rather than inside the cafeteria. We ate in silence. Sungho would sometimes spark up a conversation but I really wasn’t up to talk at that moment.

After lunch, classes continued and I really was not in the mood to listen to the teachers. I would sometimes doodle, stare at something or just zone out. The day miraculously ended really fast and I went home right away. I felt so physically and mentally drained. While walking home, pain from my scraped knee was now there so every step, there was always this stinging sensation.

I got home and entered the elevator. No one was inside so I sat down on the floor and let my tears fall freely. I hated this day. First I came in late while I scraped my knee, I got scolded and got milk poured all over me. I was completely done for today. When I entered my apartment I dropped my bag and went straight to bed, ignoring the huge amount of assignments I needed to accomplish, and took a really long nap.

I woke up and looked outside my window and saw that it was already dark. The nap helped me recharge physically but I was still tired mentally. I didn’t know what got into me but I found myself going to the building's veranda and just enjoying the city’s view. To be honest, this was the most relaxing part of my day. I was drowning myself in the city’s noise and view until I heard the door to the veranda open. I was ready to tackle this person down but was then surprised to see who was there.

“Oh, Yuna-yah annyeong!” Taeil Oppa said.

“Taeil Oppa annyeong!” I said back less nervous knowing that we’ve already met.

He sat beside me while looking at the view. We both enjoyed the silence until he spoke up.

“How was your day? I saw you sprinting out the elevator this morning.” he said while I was shocked.

“H-how di-”

“I was the one inside the elevator with you. Didn’t know that you didn't notice me. I was about to call out to you until you ran out once the doors opened.” he said to me which made me remember everything that happened that day again. Tears were brimming my eyes again and Taeil Oppa took notice of it while staring at my face. Before I could answer his question earlier he spoke again.

“You know, whenever I feel down or frustrated I would always come up here and relax to let out everything.” he said and I looked at him. He was looking out into the horizon while speaking then his eyes were back to me.

“You don’t have to keep it to yourself. You don’t have to stop yourself from crying. You can let it all out.” he said in the softest voice.

With this, tears fell down my cheeks nonstop. Taeil Oppa pulled me to his chest and hugged me tightly and I cried my heart out. I cried for a while but he never let me go. When I stopped crying and had already collected myself Taeil Oppa spoke again.

“I hope you feel better now since you’ve let it all out.” he said and smiled at me and I smiled back.

“Thank you Oppa.” I said to him while still smiling.

“You know it's getting quite chilly already. How about we go to our apartment and we’ll have some ramen.” he said.

“I-uh thank you for the offer but don’t want to disturbed you guys.” I said trying to politely decline but he still insisted.

“ No, no it's alright, we’ve got the day off tomorrow so it's no problem.” he said.

“We’ll if it won't be a problem to you guys” I said

“Ok lezgetit” he said in a high tone which made me giggle.

We both went to the door and he opened it for me. I went inside and he followed.

‘That was the comfort that I needed’

#taeyong #taeil #johnny #yuta #doyoung #jaehyun #jungwoo #mark #haechan #nct fluff #nct angst #nct smut #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct #nct127 #10thFloorBrothers

24 notes · View notes

yikesharringrove · 4 years

Note

how do u feel abt doing smth like a modern au where billy is like , all this punk rock and teen angst and leather nd jean jackets kinda of thing and steve is the exact opposite of him with fluffy skirts and soft polos nd just really soft and they two have seen eachother but dont actually talk to one another until they have a school project and they just. fall in love overtime? basically , femme steve + punk rock billy falling in love.

(pt. 2) also!! happy 21st birthday 💓💕💗💖💕

The university had a strict core curriculum, meaning that Steve was ten minutes late for his Philosophy of the Modern Era class.

He couldn’t find the room, was wandering around in this basement with his schedule written on the back of his hand. He was peering at room numbers and muttering to himself 067 067 067.

“You looking for that philosophy class?” Steve turned around at the voice.

The guy was stomping down the hallway in big leather boots. His jeans were ripped and shredded, and he was wearing a black t-shirt with pink font reading Dog Park Dissidents. His denim jacket was covered in pins and patches and sharpie drawings. He had Silence = Death written on one of the pockets, Being nice IS punk rock was scrawled down one arm.

“Yeah, that modern era one?” The guy smiled and nodded, reaching forward to shake Steve’s hand. His eyes were a startling blue, lined with a thin smudge on black. His hair was wild and curly, shaved on each side into this beachy looking mohawk. He had his nose and his eyebrow pierced, along with several in his ears.

“Billy Hargrove.”

“Steve Harrington.” Steve could feel the tips of his ears go red as Billy looked him up and down. He was wearing something cute for the first day of class, a chunky white cardigan over a soft pink peasant dress. He had gotten up early to do his makeup well, and was late to class anyway because this stupid building was a fucking maze.

They set off down the hall together, looking at each door they passed by.

“Oh shit. Pretty Boy, I think I got it.” Steve flushed slightly at being called pretty, still not used to being able to dress like this in public. Billy wrenched open the door, and stomped in, not a care in the world for being twenty minutes late.

The professor raised his eyebrow.

“And what were you two doing out in the hall?”

“I’m sorry, we couldn’t find the room.” Steve’s cheeks were hot as he was standing at the front of the class.

“That’s okay. you have missed class introductions, to please say your names, pronouns and majors.”

“Billy Hargrove, he/him, double majoring in literature and social work.”

“Steve Harrington, he/they. I’m also a double major in education and early childhood development.” The professor made a note on his role sheet.

“Thank you, you may sit down.” Steve went for the back of the room, flopping into the first empty seat he could find, ducking his head as he quietly got his laptop out. Billy had stomped into the seat next to him, had gotten out a notebook and proceeded to doodle in it for the rest of class.

He sat next to Billy every Monday Wednesday and Friday from 9:20-10:35 and and outside of their ten minute search for the classroom, they had yet to say anything to one another.

It certainly didn’t help that Steve was harboring a little crush on the guy. He would watch him in class, the way he would doodle little sunflowers in the margins of his notes, smiling softly at them.

“So, for the rest of the semester you will be working in pairs. I want you to go through the readings we have completely and work together with the philosophers we have discussed to create your own system for the modern era. How do you believe society exists now?” Billy turned to Steve, grinning at him.

“You wanna be my partner?” Steve gave a sheepish smile, his heart racing.

“I, um. Yes. Yeah, I’ll be your partner.” Steve dug his phone out of the tight pocket of his skirt, trading with Billy. He put his number under Steve Harrington - Modern Era Philosphy.

“You wanna get coffee after class, start working through our beliefs?”

“Um, sure. I don’t have class until, like, 3:30 today.” Billy grinned again and fucking winked at Steve. He needed to calm the fuck down.

“So basically, a lot of my beliefs are based on the punk message.” Billy was sipping at his black coffee, had laughed and said should’ve fucking known when Steve ordered a large mocha with extra chocolate syrup, and whipped cream. “I’m a very live and let live person, but I believe everyone should live and let live. If someone is trying to dictate how others should exist, they’re fucking garbage.”

“Okay, I actually really agree with that.”

“That’s because you’re punk rock.” Steve laughed, but Billy’s eyes were serious. “No seriously, there’s nothing more punk rock than being unapologetically yourself.”

“When did you get into punk philosophy?”

“When I was in high school. My dad was a real prick, and I was angry, and a lot of punk is loud and pissed off and it helped, but then I started going to shows, and talking to people, and it’s not what you’d expect. Everyone at a show is like a weird family for a night. If someone comes in and tries to fuck with someone, the family deals. I can’t tell you how many fights I saw that broke out because someone was perving on a girl, and these other guys started protecting her. And that only grew as I started getting into queercore.”

Steve was listening to Billy, eyes wide as he described stories from shows, how he had jumped in on fights to defend the family, how he would walk girls home or to their cars parked a ways down the street, how he knew everyone would do the same for him.

“God, I wish I had a community like that. I didn’t really have anyone growing up. You know, token queer in a small town kinda vibe.” Billy smiled at him sympathetically.

“That why you came out to San Fransisco?”

“Oh yeah. Wanted to come somewhere where, this, didn’t matter.” He gestured to himself. “I just don’t get why it bothers people. I just do it because it makes me happy. I don’t know why it concerns anyone else.” Billy was nodding vigorously.

“Exactly. That’s the whole truth about being queer. People hate you for something that has nothing to do with them. It’s completely wack. Like if I’m with someone in whatever capacity, we’re both consenting adults. It literally doesn’t matter.”

“Do you think we could expand upon this enough for our project? Talk about how we feel the world should just stop caring about what other people do if it has nothing to do with them.” Billy grinned.

“I think we could make something happen.”

They began getting coffee after each class, taking through their project, finding resources to back up the ideas they had discussed. The more time they spent together, the more Steve liked Billy, liked how sweet he was, how positive. They talked about having terrible parents, how Billy’s dad had kicked him out at sixteen for being gay, how he had lived with friends, saving up to get himself through college. They talked about how Steve’s dad had found his stash of makeup and threw it all away, making sure it was ruined and broken. How disappointed his father was that he was studying to become a teacher.

There was one Friday they had met up and stayed all day in the coffee shop stayed until the 5 pm closing.

“You wanna come over? I have a single room. We can keep working.” Billy grinned at Steve like he always did, showing off all his white teeth. So they walked side by side to Steve’s room.

Steve kept his room neat, a habit left over from overbearing parents who would shame him into cleaning his room.

Steve’s room was exactly how Billy imagined.

He had soft white lights, a full length mirror on one wall. His bed was covered in pillows, duvets, and even a few stuffed animals. The wall above the bed was covered in pictures of Steve back home, several with a group of younger kids, and a lot with a blonde girl.

“This your girlfriend?” Steve snorted.

“No, that’s Robin. She and I are just really close friends.”

“What’s with the kids?” Steve blushed.

“I babysat all through high school, and those kids kinda adopted me as their pseudo parent. It was a lot of driving them all over town.”

“That’s cute. That why you wanna teach?”

“Yeah, I’m good with kids.” Steve had plopped himself on the made bed. He watched as Billy took off his heavy boots, placing them neatly by the door before stepping onto Steve’s plush grey rug. His socks were thick wool and had little cartoon dogs on them. Steve was in love.

Billy sat with Steve on the bed. He was taking a closer look at the photos.

“I could see that for you. You’re a caring type.” Steve looked down as his feet, could feel his face getting hot.

“Why did you pick social work?”

“When I was a kid, CPS would be called to our place like, once every few months. My dad was a real good schmoozer, so I would always just be left with him. I wanna be able to help kids get out of bad situations.”

“God, and you call me a caring type. You’re gonna save the world.” Billy laughed.

“The children are the future. I’ll save ‘em, you teach ‘em.” When Steve looked up, Billy was leaning closer into Steve’s space. He had a soft smile on his face. His eyes were bright and beautiful and so fucking blue. “Can I kiss you?”

“Can you, what?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Why?” Billy still hadn’t leaned back.

“‘Cause I have a big dumb crush on you, and I think you have one on me.” Steve’s face was pink.

“I, uh, yeah. Go, go for it.” Billy laughed, taking Steve’s face in both hands. He leaned in, just gently pressing their lips together.

“So, was I right?”

“Yes. Very much so.” Billy laughed again, loud and sweet, pressing another kiss to Steve’s lips.

“You wanna go on a date? A real one? Not just us getting coffee and pretending we both weren’t totally into each other.” Steve snorted again.

“Yeah, I would really like that.”

#harringrove #yikes writes #harringrove ficlet #harringrove drabble #steve harrington #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #billy hargrove

220 notes · View notes

sugar-kisser · 4 years

Note

Hi i love your work! Is it possible to request you to write anything to do with yunho ( not angst tho plss) pleaseee thank you

Yes of course! I hope you enjoy!

Doodles

warnings: none featuring: Hongjoong word count: 2067

“Please do not tell me you are already doodling on a cup for Y/N,” Hongjoong more-or-so states rather than asks, as he walks into the break room to grab some more coffee beans from the storage unit. Yunho looks up, caught red handed with a paper cup in one hand and, currently, a blue sharpie in the other. Yunho opens his mouth to respond, but Hongjoong holds up his hand, stopping him.

“Don’t even bother making excuses,” Hongjoong laughs before disappearing into the storage unit for a moment, “you might as well write your number on it!”

“What?” Yunho exclaims, “no way! That’s too embarrassing. She’ll think it’s weird.”

“Yunho,” Hongjoong sighs walking back into the break room, “you’ve had a crush on her for the past three months. I’m about to ask her out for you.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Yunho glares at him. Hongjoong raises his eyebrows and briefly smirks.

“Pretty sure six o’clock is in ten minutes,” Hongjoong teases.

“Hongjoong, stop,” Yunho whines causing Hongjoong to laugh at his best friend.

“I’m teasing!” Hongjoong laughs at him while he walks back towards the door to head back to work. He stops and looks back at Yunho, “seriously though, write your number on it. She’ll definitely text you.” Hongjoong exits the room leaving Yunho alone once again. Yunho takes a deep breath to calm his racing nerves and looks back at the doodled cup in his hand. He’s not the best artist, but he tries his best when it comes to decorating you cup. He always starts with a big pink heart on the side that has “SMILE” written in the center. Then he moves on to different colors and randomly doodles shapes, objects, and words on the rest of the cup.

Yunho always writes little messages on cups for customers, but something sparked it in him to do something a little more, and you happened to be the first person he did that on. So he left a little heart next to the message he wrote. Little did he know you planned on continuing to come back to the little coffee shop. The first few times Yunho just did the message and little heart, but when he began to really recognize you and start talking to you he started adding more and more doodles. Each time you came in one more doodle was added to the cup. Now it’s to the point where he has to sit in the back on his break and decorate your cup.

You on the other hand love the doodled cups Yunho gives you. You actually don’t live near the coffee shop Yunho works at, nor do you work near there either. You first stumbled upon the coffee shop after visiting you boyfriends apartment… well now ex-boyfriend. You fell in love with their coffee, and you take the bus everyday after work to get some. You also took a liking to both the young baristas of the shop which you’ve made a mutual relationship with both of them. Some days you’re able to have a small chat with them, others you aren’t due to the amount of college student’s who decide they want to stay up all night long doing last minute assignments.

You patiently wait on the bus; the traffic is heavier than usual today and you keep checking the time on your phone. You’re not really sure why you’re too worried if you’re going to arrive at exactly six. Most days you’re either there just before or just after. So you’re not sure why you feel a little on edge today. You’re not going on a date. You don’t have any extra work to complete. And you’re more than sure that you don’t have any plan other than getting your coffee and talking to Yunho and Hongjoong.

When you notice the time slowly inching a little further past six and the bus not having moved in the past five minutes, you ask the bus driver to let you off where you are. You get onto the busy sidewalks and make your way towards an area that’s not as crowded to check the map on your phone to check how far you’re from the coffee shop.

“Four blocks?” You mumble, “that’s not too bad.” You put your phone back into your bag and begin you small trek.

“It’s almost 6:30,” Yunho slightly whines as he props his elbows up on the low counter having to bend down to do so.

“She might just be late,” Hongjoong tells him as he washes some of the equipment they use. Yunho loudly sighs causing Hongjoong to just roll his eyes. “She’ll be here Yunho. Don’t worry too much about it.” Yunho knows Hongjoong right, but he doesn’t like waiting. He’s usually not impatient- he’s just excited.

Yunho perks up when he hears the bell above the coffee shop door rings, but deflates a little when he see’s a few college students walk in instead. So to make time pass Yunho takes their orders and starts making their drinks. Just as Yunho is starting on the last of the three drinks ordered, and being in his own little world Hongjoong’s voice breaks him out of his thoughts.

“Y/N! You’re here!” Hongjoong greets you as you walk through the door.

“Hey. I had to walk the last four blocks because traffic wasn’t moving,” you laugh as you walk up to the counter.

“I’ll have Yunho start on your drink,” Hongjoong tells you, already knowing what you’re wanting… well it’s not hard since you order the same thing every time. You hand Hongjoong you card and without you knowing he adds on the employee discount as he does every time and charges you. Yunho finishes up his previous drink order and calls out for the students names.

Hongjoong hands him the doodled cup he left near the register earlier and begins working away.

“So how was your day?” Hongjoong asks as he moves towards the pick up counter.

“It was long. I honestly haven’t had a good week, so I’m happy for it to be Saturday tomorrow,” you tell him, “how has work been? Doesn’t seem busy tonight.”

“It hasn’t been. Which is nice. My feet aren’t killing me for once,” Hongjoong jokes causing the two of you to laugh.

“How about you Yunho?” You ask looking over Hongjoong’s shoulder. Yunho perks up like a puppy who’s been asked if they want a treat.

“Oh, I’m good,” Yunho shyly smiles towards you, “just been keeping myself busy.”

“Being a lovesick puppy,” Hongjoong rolls his eyes before slightly laughing.

“Oooh. You like someone Yunho?” You ask cheerfully.

“He sure does,” Hongjoong quickly answers for him, “doesn’t shut up ever. I’ve been bugging him to ask her out and he won’t.” Yunho continues to make your drink as he feels his nerves really kick in. Not only that but his ears have turned a bright pink because of how flustered he is. He feels as if he’s about to be caught.

“You should ask her out,” you encourage Yunho, “she’d be the luckiest girl in the world.” Yunho turns around, holding your completed drink.

“Plus she’d be dumb to say no,” Hongjoong adds and you nod your head agreeing.

“Y-you think?” Yunho asks as he hands you your drink, slightly stuttering but he catches himself.

“I know,” you smile, “you should really do it. Does she come here a lot?” Yunho presses his lips together tightly but manages to give you a small smile and nod his head. “You should totally write your number or like ‘date?’ on the cup then! Really cliche but it’s cute.”

“Okay. I’ll do it,” Yunho shyly laughs and wipes his hands down on his apron out of nervousness.

“Good,” you tell him and you look at your phone to check the time, “I think I’m going to head out. I’ve had a long day and still haven’t had dinner. I better hear more about this girl tomorrow.” You point at Yunho teasing him a little, causing him to blush.

“Oh you will!” Hongjoong smiles and waves as you make your way to the door.

“Bye boys!” you smile. The boys wave back and you leave the coffee shop and walk to the bus stop around the corner.

“You put your number on the cup,” Hongjoong smirks having seen the number written on the cup as Y/N held it. Hongjoong leans against the counter, crossing his arms. Yunho doesn’t respond as he cleans the equipment tools he just used to make Y/N’s drink.

“YOU REALIZE THIS RIGHT?” Hongjoong grabs the tall boy and shakes him, “she’s going to call or text you within the next hour.”

“You don’t know that,” Yunho quietly tells him.

“You idiot,” Hongjoong slaps his hand to his own face and shakes his head, “she literally said ‘she’d be the luckiest girl in the world’.”

“But she wasn’t even thinking about if it was her,” Yunho clarifies.

“She. Will. Text. You,” Hongjoong tells him, “I bet you $20.” Yunho looks doubtfully at the red headed boy.

———

The traffic hasn’t seen to lighten at all, and it had already been half an hour since you arrived to the bus stop. You drank just about all of your coffee. You had been observing the little doodles on the cup here and there. Usually you wait till you’ve drink everything so you don’t spill it. So you quickly swallow the last of the coffee in one go. You lean the cup more to it’s side and begin looking at all the little doodles.

“Always creative with his ideas,” You laugh looking at the multiple different colored flowers, and his attempt to draw himself and Hongjoong. As your eyes scan over everything you double back when you spot something other than a drawing.

“Wait,” you whisper and you count the numbers, “oh my god.” You think back on your conversation with the boys and it hit you. Yunho has a crush on you. Without second thought you hurry back to the coffee shop… hopefully his shift hasn’t ended.

You open the door and Hongjoong looks up from the his phone laying on the counter. He just smiles and points to the break room. You hurry back and open the door loudly, causing a startled Yunho to jump. When Yunho lays his eyes on you, he instantly knows. The two of you quietly stare at each other for a moment before you speak up.

“You like me?” You ask with a surprised smile on your face, and you watch Yunho’s ears turn pink, “you do!”

“You don’t need to make fun of me,” Yunho quietly tells you, looking at the ground.

“Make fun of you? Yunho, why would I- I like you Yunho,” you tell him, and Yunho’s head shoots up, “yeah I come to the coffee shop everyday, travel across town for it, to have your coffee and to talk to you and Hongjoong. But I want to see you. You always make my days better Yunho, even if all you do is smile and give me my doodled cup. You know I’ve kept every single one? They’re stacked up on a shelf in my room.” Yunho’s eyes slightly widen and his mouths drops.

“You’ve kept every cup I’ve doodled on?” Yunho asks breaking into a small smile.

“Why would I throw away the one thing I have of you?” You ask, “they hold memories.” Yunho drops his jacket, walks up to you, and envelopes you into a hug. You hug him back, and you two just hold each other for a minute. Yunho pulls away and you look up at him. He gently cups your face and leans down to plant a sweet short kiss to your lips. When he pulls away he gives you his famous big smile.

“How about dinner since you still haven’t ate?” Yunho suggests, now in a giggly mood.

“I’d love to,” you answer, smiling back at him. Yunho grabs his jacket, closes his locker, and the two of you walk out of the break room.

“FINALLY!” Hongjoong cheers, “seriously Y/N, it was weeks. Thank you.” You laugh as Yunho’s ears turn pink for a third time tonight and the two of you wave good-bye to Hongjoong before leaving the coffee shop, the doodled cup still in your hand.

#ateez #ateez au #ateez jeong yunho #ateez yunho #jeong yunho #yunho #atiny #ateez x reader #ateez x atiny #ateez fluff #ateez imagine #ateez scenarios #ateez drabbles #kpop imagines #ateez kim hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #kim hongjoong #hongjoong #barista au

191 notes · View notes

profoundnet · 4 years

Photo

PROFOUND MEMBER MASTERPOST FOR SEPTEMBER 2020!

Featuring Destiel/Gen works by @friendofcarlotta, @nickelkeep, @castielslostwings, @haybibiboi, youfoundmykeys, @goldenraeofsun, @aishitara, @vaudelin, @one-more-offbeat-anthem, @shealynn88, Feathers7501, @sketching-fox, @mittensmorgul, @andimeantittosting, sapphirecobalt, shadowkat83, @maleyah-givemetomorrow, Endellion, ArielAquarial, @allmystars-i, @darcydelaney!

Join us on Discord!

Masterpost below the cut.

FriendofCarlotta - @friendofcarlotta - FriendofCarlotta

The Heroes’ Journey (E, 36k)

When you perform a spell to defeat God himself, there’s bound to be side effects — such as every version of Team Free Will getting zapped to an alternate universe. The former residents of the Endverse find themselves in an underground bunker full of the kinds of food they haven’t seen in years and clothes that magically fit them. As Dean adjusts to life in a world where Croatoan never got out of control, he faces some tough questions: Can he forgive Sam for saying yes to Lucifer? And is his relationship with Cas really beyond saving? The residents of the bunker, meanwhile, wake up as employees of HunterCorp, whose CEO is one John Winchester. Being around people Dean lost years ago is no picnic, and it’s changing the dynamic of his relationship with Cas in ways he never expected. But is the change meant to last, or will they fall back into old patterns when they return to their own universe?

Tags: Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Case Fic, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sharing a Bed, Slow Dancing, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Recovery From Drug Addiction

Home (G, 2.2k)

This is the story of a car, and the boy who loves it so fiercely, it becomes a home. As the boy grows into a man, his car is the one constant in his life. Until, one day, he meets an angel, and "home" takes on a new meaning.

Tags: Canon Compliant, POV Impala, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Fluff, Kid Fic, Castiel and Dean Winchester Are Great Dads

nickelkeep - @nickelkeep - nickelkeep

Huckleberry, Cherry, or Lime (E, 5.7k)

Two men. Two Identical injuries. For Dean and Cas, is that where the similarities start or end?

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Misunderstandings, Fluff and Smut and Humor, No Angst, Minor Injuries, Stitches, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort

Text Me in the Morning (T, 2.7k)

"Just blowing off steam?" Sam glared at Dean. "So, you haven't been honest with him, or you haven't been honest with yourself?" "Excuse me?" Dean set his mug on the table and crossed his arms, staring at Sam. "It means that you're in love with Cas, and won't admit it. Figures my brother is a coward."

Tags: Canon Compliant, Established Castiel/Dean, Secret Relationship, Long-Suffering Sam, Sam is a Little Shit, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean, Misunderstandings, Texting, Castiel and Dean Need to Use Their Words

castielslostwings - @castielslostwings - Castielslostwings

After the End (E, 27k)

In 2014, Dean Winchester led a raid on the asylum in Detroit where a Sam-wearing-Lucifer was waiting for him. Everyone knows what happened next: the Chitaquan soldiers who accompanied Dean died horribly at the hands of Lucifer’s minions while Lucifer murdered Dean in the garden below and warned the Dean from days past that no matter what he tried, he would always end up there. There were no survivors. Or were there? This story picks up where “The End” leaves off, from Castiel’s perspective from inside the asylum, a twist of fate, and conditional divine intervention no one saw coming. It details what happens after Lucifer dies, Dean lives, and the world doesn’t actually stop turning. A canon-compliant “fix-it” fic for the Endverse and a Dean and Cas who deserved better. Or: "The End" was not the End. This is the story of what came after.

Tags: Endverse fix-it, Happy endverse, temp MCD (dean's canon death in the rose garden), low-angst, canon-compliant (I swear, this is a happy fix-it), explicit sex, s15 tie-ins.

Wait For It (E, 44k)

With Chuck out of the picture and Jack stepping up as the New God, Team Free Will suddenly has to face the most difficult mission they've ever tackled: moving on. Change is tough, that's a given. What's not new? Dean's coping mechanisms being the absolute worst. Problem is, this time, his stubborn refusal to leave the past where it belongs lands him in hot water that's so deep, even Castiel may not be able to pull him out in time. An epic post-canon love story about a hunter who can't seem to look forward and an ex-angel who is done looking back.

Tags: Post-canon, Alternate ending to Season 15, illustrated, getting together, love confessions, hurt/comfort, kidnapped Dean, BAMF Castiel, explicit sex, very happy ending. Accompanied by art by @ladyrandombox.

lovemuppet - @haybibiboi - lovemuppet

“How Do You Like Them Apples?”: A Co-Pearenting Fic. (T, 1.4k)

based on a prompt by Cryptomoon: "Neighboring long time orchard owners, Dean of Winchester Family Apples and Cas of Eden Farms have been bitter rivals their whole lives. Eden Farms grows pears and Dean thinks that's absolutely stupid because it's Eden, they should grow apples. But that's beside the point. They've hated each other since they could walk. Now they each have taken over their family's farms and do their best to civilly ignore one another. Until! Some trees on the edge of their properties spontaneously cross breed and they are forced to figure out what to do with these co-parented Pearapples. Applepears?"

Tags: Enemies to lovers, au where pears and apples are the same genus, affronts to god and science, jokes? about homicide.

“The Only Rest You’ll See For Hours” (G, 441 words)

Prompt by saltnhalo: 30 minute speed writing based on knightiesart sky doodles. (I used the two desert looking ones)

Tags: post series band aid, no one dies, everything's fine

youfoundmykeys - reafre

grip (SFW)

“You’re the one who gripped me tight, and brought me back to light...” art by reafre date: 18-23 September, 2020 tools: pencil, watercolour, pearl watercolour on paper.

Tags: video, hands, soft, anniversary

goldenraeofsun - @goldenraeofsun - goldenraeofsun

Ridin’ the Quarantine Out (E, 8.5k)

“Like I said,” Dean says, chuckling, “no one’s ever died from blue balls. So you can't go out there and break quarantine to bang some rando.” Cas doesn’t find this funny in the slightest. “No human has died,” he clarifies. “What the hell are you talking about?” Dean narrows his eyes. “If you think some weird fact about guinea pigs is gonna sway-” “I’m an incubus,” Cas interrupts. “I will literally die if I don’t feed.”

Tags: They were quarantined, incubus!cas, virgin!cas, first time, top!cas, bottom!dean, dom sub undertones, mentions of COVID-19, mutual pining

aishitara - @aishitara - aishitara

K-I-S-S-I-N-G (M, 3.9k)

Sam’s been breathing down his neck about every little thing lately. He eats too much bacon. Drinks too much beer. Drives too fast. Avoids Cas like his life depends on it. Dean huffs out a breath. Sam hasn’t actually called him on /that/ part, but if the conversation they’d had a few days ago about… that time Castiel was dead was anything to go by, he was certain his brother was going to corner him any second now and point out how Dean had been doing such a good job of hiding from him and Cas. He wasn’t… he wasn’t hiding, okay? He just… happened to be anywhere at all in the bunker that Cas wasn’t. Not on purpose. Just. Because. Of reasons.

Tags: Fluff, a wee touch of the angst, Sam Ships It, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Sort Of, Feelings, Dean just doesn't want to talk about it ok

vaudelin - @vaudelin - vaudelin

a world well done (M, 54k)

After five years of being overlooked for the job title of his dreams, Dean has grown accustomed to his fair share of disappointment. But the guy who got the position, a nepotistic hire named Castiel Novak, is really pushing the boundaries of his patience. Too bad the guy’s a dud, but the legacy project has survived worse. Castiel can be as antisocial as he wants and hide out in his office all he likes; Dean will just batten down the hatches and ensure his team weathers the storm coming their way.

Tags: AU - Modern Setting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Misunderstandings & Miscommunications, Slow Build

one_more_offbeat_anthem - @one-more-offbeat-anthem - one_more_offbeat_anthem

Roll With It, Baby (T, 13k)

August 1987. Indianapolis, Indiana. The Pan-American Games are back again, and professional roller skaters Castiel Milton and Dean Winchester are supposed to be teammates--and friends. Over their six years on the US team, they’ve done their best to get along, but with Cas as a roller figure skater and Dean as a roller hockey player, they sometimes miss the mark. But something’s different this year, at their second Pan-American Games. Maybe it’s the sultry end-of-summer heat over the main stadium at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. Maybe it’s the competition. Maybe it’s Rick Astley's recent hit single "Never Gonna Give You Up." Whatever it is, the next two weeks are going to change things…potentially forever.

Tags: 1980s, the mixtape, professional roller skating, friends to lovers, mutual pining, first kiss, mild homophobia

shealynn88 - @shealynn88 - shealynn88

The Light Will Guide You Home (E, 4.6k)

Dean is visiting his long-distance friend for the first time. He knows what he wants, but does Cas feel the same? Dean laughs. “Cas, is that you? Can I…?” He reaches out for a hug, then draws back in embarrassment. The human-like form throws him off, but he knows it’s impolite to initiate physical contact with a Luminate, he’s studied the culture for over a decade.

Tags: consentacles, sci-fi AU, alien!Cas, human!Dean

Feathers7501 - Feathers7501

Dreams of Blue (G, 1.1k)

Dean is leading his best life... or is he?

Tags: memory wipe

sketching-fox - @sketching-fox

Along My Restless Palms (NSFW)

Comission done for Kat, the first of my bidders on @ficfacers 2020! Her request was to illustrate this specifc scene (where Dean dreams about Castiel in the Highlands - YES, they are wearing kilts) in the Fic Along My Restless Palms!

Tags: highlands, kilts

Caring for the wings (SFW)

Comission for Jennifer, one of winner bidders on @ficfacers 2020! Her request was the fluffiest thing ever: Chibi versions of Dean and Castiel, and Dean taking care of Cas´s wings, with the feathers all fluffy, like those little dogs after a bath and air drier on the Pet Shop.

Tags: chibi art, wings

mittensmorgul - @mittensmorgul - MittenWraith

Happy Resurrection Day (T, 3.7k)

The world didn't end, and Dean and Cas finally get to choose each other. It only took twelve years and a little road trip back to where it all started.

Tags: post canon, road trips, getting together, first kiss, anniversary

andimeantittosting - @andimeantittosting - andimeantittosting

A Gentleman’s Inheritance (M, 11k)

For the Supernatural Regency Bang. Castiel Shurley has always done his duty by his family. When his father dies, Castiel inherits not only the title of Viscount, but also deep debts. At his aristocratic mother's behest, he agrees to court Miss Celeste "Charlie" Middleton—a wealthy heiress, but the daughter of cits. Though they are not in love—and though he secretly has feelings for her cousin, the charming Dean Winchester—Castiel and Charlie soon agree to wed. But Castiel's life is upended by the arrival of his scandalous Aunt Amara, who reveals that he is not the son of Charles and Naomi, but illegitimate, taken from his unwed mother to serve as Charles’s heir. When she carries out her threat to reveal the truth to the world, Castiel loses his title, his home, and his place in the world. Feeling honour-bound to break off his engagement, he finds himself invited to stay instead, as a member of Dean and Charlie's unconventional household, and learns the meaning of freedom.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Regency, Disinherited Castiel, Forced Adoption

sapphirecobalt - sapphirecobalt

The Bee Knocker Story (M, 7.2k)

Dean recalls the infamous bee knocker that started it all. Or, the one where Cas is upset and Dean goes to great lengths to cheer him up.

Tags: Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic fluff, emotional hurt comfort, Artist Dean, gardens and gardening

shadowkat83 - Shadowkat83

Sober (G, 605 words)

Dean leans against a tree trying to come to terms with what he is seeing and feeling. How did everything end up like this? Lyrics Sober by Bad Wolves

Tags: Endverse, Songfic, angst, implied relationships

Maleyah (Katherine_Kat) - @maleyah-givemetomorrow - Maleyah

Hot Wings Cas (SFW)

Yoga teacher Castiel for my fic Hot Wings and Magic Hands

Tags: yoga teacher cas, idiots in love, wing tattoos

Take A Breath (SFW)

Time for a breath and a break. The ending they deserve with Sam, Gabe, Charlie and Jody in the background (if you squint)

Tags: the end of the road, married, breathe boys, cuddles

Aceriee-art’s DTIYS (SFW)

Art for Aceriee-art's DTIYS challenge

Tags: dtiys, aceriee-art, sassy Dean, blatant use of emojis

Thank You Cas Kisses (SFW)

Cas blowing kisses at the viewer, cause thank you

Tags: thank you, cas blows a kiss, tiny bee

Endellion - Endellion

You Make Me Want to Stay (G, 1.5k)

A teenage Dean meets a boy named Castiel at one of the many high schools he goes to and this time when his dad says it's time to move on, he doesn't want to.

Tags: implied/referenced homophobia, AU no hunting, AU highschool

Brutus (G, 216 words)

Sam and Cas and a dog. Dean can't resist Cas' puppy dog eyes.

Tags: fluffy, cute

ArielAquarial - ArielAquarial

The Right Kind of Motivation (E, 2k)

Alone in the house for the first time in months, Dean is having trouble finding the motivation to clean. Castiel decides it’s time to bring out the big guns, and Dean is more than willing to play along. Can be read as a standalone.

Tags: Established Relationship, Domestic, Alternate Universe, Dick Pics, Masturbation

allmystars - @allmystars-i - allmystars

Brownies and Blowjobs (E, 2.3k)

"It’s fucking 2020, I should be able to watch Netflix nude while making brownies without you getting preachy about it." Dean wants Castiel's attention, but he doesn't know how to ask for it, so he bakes brownies... completely naked.

Tags: Blowjobs, Handjobs, Friends With Benefits, Smut, Naked Baking, Porn Without Plot

darcydelaney - @darcydelaney - DarcyDelaney

Bookworm (T, 2.1k)

Cas asks Dean to spend the day reading with him at a brewery. It's not Dean's ideal date at first, but it doesn't stop him from falling in love with Cas all over again.

Tags: Brewery, Date Night, Fluff

#dean winchester #castiel #destiel #deancas #spn #profound monthly masterpost #profoundnet #september masterpost #member art #member fic

24 notes · View notes

eternalstann · 4 years

Text

Out Of The Rain

You give Peter a ride home...kind of?

Pairing: Peter Parker X Reader

Warnings: Smut, Swearing, Angst

___________

School lunches fucking sucked. Right now you really regret not waking up early enough to pack one at home. You stared down at the unappealing plate, before tentatively lifting a piece of limp broccoli to your mouth.

“Y/N? Y/N?!” The sound of your best friend Lexi’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. “Hmm?” You grumble, mouth now full with the gross green vegetables. “Ms. Jones said we’re having a surprise practice today” she informs you and you groan. “Damnit! I didn’t wear sneakers” You exclaim looking down at the moccasins on your feet. “My uniform is in my locker, maybe I left a pair in there” you hope out loud. “Girl I hope you did, that would be shitty if you had to run all the way home to get some” You nod in agreement before getting up and jogging to your locker.

You sigh upon opening it, you find your uniform....but no sneakers. You yank out the skirt and cropped shirt before slamming the small metal shut. You change into the clothes before making your way back to the cafeteria. You loved cheerleading but Ms. Jones was getting annoying with these unannounced practices. You stand in front of your table of friends - “do ANY of you have an extra pair of sneakers?” You ask, face dropping as you watch all the girls shake their heads no. “Damn Y/N, you’re already hot but In that uniform you’re smoking!” Brad smirks and you roll your eyes. “Thanks anyways girls” you speak to your friends, ignoring Brad and the laughs from the guys sitting with him.

You were about to sit down when you remember you and MJ always wore about the same shoe size. The two of you used to be inseparable- but you just grew apart. You attempted to still spend time with her, but most of the time she turned you down. And then both you were incredibly busy - her with the academic decathlon & science club - and you with cheer & multi-cultural club. You walk over to her table, occupied by only three people. Her, Ned Leeds and Peter Parker. You never understood why they sat with just the three of them. Ned was hilarious, he sometimes controlled the score board at basketball games and his comments always had you cracking up from the sidelines. MJ was drop dead gorgeous, though you wished she’d let her hair down more often. And Peter- well you could go on and on about the brown haired boy.

“Michelle!” You called out before plopping down across from her. “Hey Y/N” she gives you a half smile, looking surprised that you were talking to her. “You wouldn’t happen to have an extra pair of sneakers would you?” You ask as sweetly as you could. “Um...no? Just the ones I have on” she answers and that’s all you needed - “Please trade shoes with me!” You plead. “I just need them for cheer practice I’ll bring them back tomorrow I promise” MJ looks confused but complies and you let out a breath of relief, “thank you so much!” You thank her, a grin breaking out across your face.

“Oh my god I’m so fucking rude; hey Peter- hey Ned” you finally greet the two boys. Ned gives you a cheerful hello, but Peter is frozen. He’d been in a trance since he saw you walking towards them. You were a vision of beauty. He was sure he’d never seen a girl as pretty as you. And you were smart. He was always impressed with how well you did in all classes. He’d often help Mr. Harrington grade papers and you never got below a 90. Peter thought you were perfect.

He hadn’t even realized he’d been staring at you until MJ punched his arm. “Stop being creepy” she whispers under her breath and he feels a blush rise to his cheeks. He tried to pull his eyes away but it was a done deal when you bent forward, giving him a perfect view of your breasts. Peter felt his breathing pick up - fuck - the tops of them jiggled as you wiggled your foot around to get the sneaker on and he had never been more grateful for V-neck shirts.

“Thanks again Michelle. Oh by the way; I was wondering if you wanted to go to the movies on Saturday, my treat?” You offer and before she can respond Peter speaks up for her. “She’ll be there!” You smile and nod. “Okay, see you then. Bye guys!” You wave just as the bell rings.

Ned turns to MJ as soon as you’re gone, the three of them standing to make their way to next period. “Why didn’t you tell us you were friends with Y/N?!” He whisper yells, and Peter is curious too. “I don’t know, you never asked” she shrugged. “She’s literally gorgeous” Ned continues and MJ shakes her head.

“Maybe that’s why I didn’t tell you dorks”

—

It was last period, you were doodling in your journal when you heard the loud crack of thunder shake the room. You jump before looking outside just as it started to pour. You loved the rain, it made you wanna go home and curl up in your bed. A couple of minutes go bye before you hear your principals voice. “Attention students, due to the thunderstorms ALL after school activities will be canceled this evening. Please, be safe on your way home. That is all” the voice cut out and you were kind of glad practice was canceled.

All you could think about was leaving the last twenty minutes of class and you were the first one up when the bell rang. After going to your locker, you make your way outside and dash to your car. You shiver when you get inside, immediately reaching to turn up the heat. You start the engine to your 2007 Ford Explorer, and you’re about to pull off when you spot Peter Parker running through the parking lot with nothing but his book bag over his head like a makeshift umbrella. You blow your horn at him, and wave for him to come over. He pauses and squints his eyes at you before making way over.

He stands outside your car, looking at you through the window and you give him a funny look. “Get in Parker!” You instruct after he’s been standing for at least 30 seconds in the rain. He gets in the passenger seat, completely soaked. “You wanna ride home?” You ask him, and he sputters. “I- uh, I don’t want to be a bother. It’s fine I can walk..” he replies and you groan. “Well too bad, I wasn’t asking” you chide before pulling off with a giggle. “Thanks Y/N” he smiles and you glance at him. You wish you could’ve looked longer but driving in the rain was hard enough.

“I should be thanking you!” You counter, “thanks for getting MJ to hang with me....I really miss her” your voice breaks off into a whisper. Peter stares at you, he can tell you really mean it. “You’re welcome, I know how she can be sometimes. But today; I could tell she misses you too” he spoke placing a hand on your thigh. He’d meant it to be comforting but after he’d done it he realized how fucking creepy it must’ve been and pulled his hand away. His eyes traveled to the soft skin where his hand had been. You thighs were full & toned - probably from years of cheerleading. They were covered in droplets of water, and god, he never knew thighs could be so attractive. He let his eyes move upwards over your exposed midriff, even your belly button was cute. Peter really wished he’d stopped there, but he didn’t. His gazed continued, eyes taking in your dripping hair, water sliding down your neck and down the valley of your breast. You cheer top, was soaked making it cling even tighter to your skin than usual. But your face- for him that was the most stunning thing about you. Warm eyes, that made him melt every time you looked at him... and those lips. He wondered what they tasted like.

“Hey, do you have to go straight home?” You question before you can overthink it and Peter shakes his head. “No, why?”; you take a deep breathe. “Do you wanna come over?” You bite your lip and wait for him to answer. “Yeah, I’d love too! I mean; yeah that’s cool” he coughed. “Okay, I think my big sister Mya is home but don’t worry she’s like waist deep in her textbooks 24/7. She’s studying for her bar exam” You tell him.

You both talk more about your families, how it’s just him and his aunt. How your parents are always away. And even though it was almost a twenty-five minute drive to your house, the time you spent in your talking in your car with the rain falling all around you still didn’t seem long enough.

You pull into your driveway, smiling when you see your sisters car. Looking back to make sure Peter was still behind you, you reach to unlock the door. When your hand touches the handle you jump back when it swings open - “Damnit Mya, You scared the shit out of me!” You yell and she bursts out laughing. “Oh my god, I’m sorry” she apologizes, smirking at you still. “Anyways, who’s this cutie?” She asks gesturing to Peter. “This is Peter, we go to school together” you say as nonchalantly as you possibly can, but you know Mya sees through your calm demeanor. “Nice to meet you Peter, I’m going out for a little while so you two have fun. But not too much fun” she winks and you groan in embarrassment. “We can go to my room” You mutter, still frustrated at your sisters remark.

Peter can feel himself start to sweat the moment he walks through your bedroom door. The baby blue walls, covered in pictures of your friends and family served as a reminder to how popular you were and he knew you were beyond out of his league. What was he thinking coming here? “Sit down!” You call out to him, patting the spot on your bed before turning on your tv. You flick through channels before decided on Jumanji.

“Peter, can I ask you something?” You whisper, almost nervous to ask. “Anything” he smiles back and you sigh - “What do you think of me? Like we’re cool, but you don’t know me very well, what do you get from just my basic outlook” you inquire thoughtfully. “Wow- um, I don’t know where to start. I see a girl that’s kind, and talented. Dedicated, hardworking, smart, and super beautiful.” He blushes and you can’t believe all the things he just said. “Really?” You ask wondering how he’d gathered all that from the few times you’d spoken.

“Yeah. Kind; You gave me a ride so I didn’t have to walk in the rain. Talented & dedicated, all the time and effort you put into cheer. You always look the best on the field by the way- I don’t know how you learn all those routines. Smart; you don’t miss anything. You’re so quick and you do amazingly in school. And anyone who doesn’t see you’re beautiful is either blind or stupid-“ you cut off his compliments and lean in to kiss him. Peter freezes in shock and you pull back. “I’m sorry- I should’ve asked you first it’s just you’re probably the sweetest, cutest most intelligent person I’ve ever met and..” now it’s his turn to cut off your rambling.

He kissed you and you can’t help but to smile against his lips. “You smell good” You murmur and Peters staring at you with a grin like you’ve never seen. “So do you” his voice is almost as soft as his lips. All he did was look at you and you felt that familiar tug low in your stomach.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours” you smirk before pulling your shirt over your head and Peter followed suit. “Woah” you’re shocked by his strong build, letting your finger run down the length of his abdomen. Peter shuttered as he watched your manicured nail trace his chest. You reached the hem of his jeans, looking up at him expectantly. He gulped before reaching to tug the denim off his legs. The tight briefs he wore left little to the imagination and you couldn’t wait to get him in your mouth.

You rub him through the thin cloth and he’s already twitching. “Can I take these off?” You ask, staring up at him. He wanted to tell you that you could do anything you wanted to him; but instead opted for a quick nod. You were about to slide the briefs off when a ringing came from the pants on the floor next to the two of you. “

“It’s yours” you tell him reaching down and grabbing the phone. “Mr. Stark?” you Squint at the face on his phone screen - “Holy shit; is Tony Stark calling you?!”

—————————————

omg hi you guys sorry I’ve been mia I’ve just had so much going on I don’t even know where to begin! But I have so much stuff written up for you guys and I’m excited for you to read it. I love and miss you all so talk to me! ❤️❤️❤️

ps part 2 will be up Tuesday night

#peter parker imagine #peter parker preference #peter parker x reader #peter x reader #peter parker #tom holland #peter parker one shot #peter parker smut #tom holland x reader

516 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

girlnovels

Untitled

a1313h2244

faier

zealouscanonindeer

Rookie.

slzlpzhgkz-blog

18禁地戀愛

letothers

Excruciating