#SHITTY PLAYING VOLLEYBALL | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pb524830 · 2 months

Text

anyone else

part: 3 pairing: paige bueckers x oc word count: 3.3k c/w: slight mention of blood, language a/n: hi guys! so sorry this is probably much later than you expected, i've just been so busy with school and other stuff. here's part 3. let me know what ideas you guys have for other fics and what you might want to see :)

OCTOBER 2020

Ava you good? 8:24 PM

Yo I’m waiting at mine 8:43 PM

Avaaaa 8:46 PM

I’m going crazy thinking about you dude 8:52 PM

I’m serious 8:52 PM

Don’t leave me hanging like this 8:52 PM

I read over Paige’s messages tiredly. I feel so incredibly stupid. How many times has she used these lines on girls? Probably more than she can count. I nearly laugh out loud. Poor Paige, I think to myself. Keeping track of a roster like that while being such a shitty person must be hard. The hatred is bubbling in my chest, angry and scorching. It pushes me to my feet, out my door, and to Audrey’s room.

Before I know what I’m doing, I knock on the door, plastering a smile on my face. “Hey, what’s up?” Aubrey says brightly when she opens her door. “Nothing much. Who was that, though?” Audrey smiles sheepishly. “Swear you won’t tell anyone?” She asks. My heart pounds painfully. Paige had asked me to keep quiet about us hanging out, too. I nod nonetheless. “It was Paige Bueckers.”

I knew that. I knew that. But somehow, hearing it out loud hurts even worse. “How-how did y’all meet?” She giggles, covering her mouth. “Okay, you remember that night we were at the gym? Doing serve-receive? Like last month?” I nod, the thudding in my chest suffocating me now. “She ran into me and she just, like, asked for my snap. And she’s hot so I gave it to her.”

The night she walked me home. The same night she told me I was pretty and told me that my smile was beautiful.

She played me.

“Was she good?” I ask bluntly, my voice foreign to my own ears. Aubrey’s eyes widen. “Uh, yeah? Like, really good. Oh, my God - she did this thing with her tongue...” There’s a roaring in my ears all of a sudden.

She fucking played me.

“Avantika? Are you okay?” I nod, too wrapped up in my own thoughts and back away, stumbling back to my room. Had I liked her that much? Why does it hurt this bad? I glance around my room, my eyes landing on an article of clothing. Her hoodie. A UConn basketball hoodie. She’d given it to me after walking me home from practice one night.

She’d come to the volleyball gym just to walk me home. She told me I looked good in her clothes, but that I’d look better in her bed.

I’d slept in it for three days straight after.

I want to burn it now.

NOVEMBER 2021

The surprise party is at Paige’s apartment. I haven’t been there in over a year. But I find myself standing in front of her door, too nervous to knock. Which doesn’t make any sense, obviously. There’s no reason to be nervous; it’s just like any other party. I’m dressed in a strappy green tank top and cargo pants, my hair down and curly. Taking a deep breath, I rap on the door with my knuckles.

Paige opens it. My breath catches, and I hate that it does. She’s in a pair of blue shorts and a sports bra, drying her hair with a towel. Her hand drops to her side, towel in hand, when she sees me. “Avantika, hi.” I smile slightly. “Hey,” I reply. “Am I early? I didn’t wanna be late, so-”

“Nah, ur good. You can help set up, actually,” she tells me, shuffling to the side to let me in. Her apartment looks the same as I remember. I catch a glimpse of her familiar, ludicrous purple bed sheets through her cracked room door. I turn to her, inhaling deeply. “What can I help with?” I ask, holding out my present for Azzi. Her eyes linger on me, trailing over my body as she takes the gift in one hand and continues drying her hair with the other. “I blew up balloons, but I didn’t string them together yet. You mind?”

She sets the present on the counter, hopping up onto it. Her legs dangle off the edge, spread wide as she watches me string together balloons that say ‘Happy Birthday’. She fishes a dab pen out of her pocket and takes a hit. “You want?” She asks. I glance at her, shaking my head. She shrugs, tipping her head back to release the smoke. My eyes draw to her jawline, fingers going slack. I curse myself for still letting her have this effect on me. Her head lolls back forward, catching me staring. I see her mouth twitch into a smirk, ever so slightly, before she clears her throat. “You all good there?” She asks, gesturing to the balloon garland I’m supposed to be helping with.

I laugh shakily. “No, yeah. All good.” Paige shakes her head, grinning. “Here, I’ll do it. There’s a package in my bedroom with streamers. Go grab it?” I roll my eyes, handing the balloons and string over to her. “You remember which one it is?” She hums, eyes flicking to mine. My mouth twitches. I nod wordlessly.

The silence is so suffocating. I’m not used to being alone with her - at least, not anymore. I hate that her presence is still so intoxicating, that there’s still this undeniable force pulling me to her. I hate the way she laughs and the way she talks and the way she looks at me.

I get in and out of her room as quickly as possible, snatching the Amazon package off of her bed. I grab a knife from the kitchen to slice through the tape, but I’m so distracted that I accidentally slash my own finger. I hiss in pain, dropping the knife onto the counter with a clatter. “Fuck,” I whisper agitatedly, Paige’s head whipping up. “Avantika?” She asks. “All good,” I say, turning away from her, holding my finger to my chest, trying not to get blood on my top. It’s really flowing now, in rivets down my finger, pooling in my palm.

“Yo, Avantika,” Paige says, turning me towards her by my shoulder. “Oh, shit,” she breathes, grabbing my hand. “Okay, wait, it’s fine-” I try to get out, but Paige already has my finger in her mouth. My eyes widen as she licks away the blood, walking me backwards with her to rummage around a kitchen drawer. “Paige!” I say. She shoots me a look, taking my finger out of her mouth and wiping at her lips with the back of her hand. She fishes out a bandaid and an alcohol wipe.

“I can do it-”

“Hush.”

I shut up immediately, watching as Paige cleans my cut, shaking her head when I hiss at the sting of the alcohol swab. She tears at the bandaid package with her teeth and applies it smoothly, wrapping it tightly around my finger. “How’d you even manage that?” She muses. I narrow my eyes at her, snatching her hand away. “It was very strategic, actually, I wanted to slice my hand open-”

“Clearly-”

“What are you, fuckin’ pre-med now?” I demand.

“Might have to be, if you can’t take care of yourself,” she laughs, shoving me lightly.

I shove her back, smiling back at her. I can’t help it.

Her eyes meet mine. “No ‘thank you'?” She asks.

I scoff. “You put a bandaid on me,” I ridicule.

Paige’s eyes widen. “I could’ve let you bleed to death,” she says.

I gape. “You are so dramatic-”

“And you’re ungrateful as hell, come here,” she complains, grabbing at my waist and pulling me against her more or less bare torso, hands going to my sides to tickle me. I shriek with laughter, fighting at her, clutching at her hands to pull her away from me. But Paige is relentless, hands going everywhere, ordering me, “Say thank you! Say thank you and I’ll stop!”

“No shot!” I gasp, eyes welling with tears of laughter, trying to ignore the scent of strawberries that invades my nostrils.

“Say it!” She demands, an arm winding all the way around my torso to hold me against her as I fight harder.

“Yo, why the fuck is nothing set up?” I hear a voice demand. Paige’s hold loosens, but doesn’t relax. Her arms hang limply from my body, and when I see Evina standing indignantly in front of us, I shove her away. Paige clears her throat, backing up.

“Hi, Evina,” I say, my tone suddenly solemn. “Hi, E,” Paige says. She at least has the sense to look sheepish.

“Well, if y’all are done fucking around, Caroline’s about to drive Azzi back. Let’s get it together,” she commands, clapping her hands. Paige and I snap into motion, finishing up the decorations and hanging them up in a relatively organized fashion.

The party goes smoothly - Azzi does a good job of acting surprised, though I’m sure she’s well aware of what the girls were going to do in the first place. We cut cake and load her up with presents, before Paige calls for a round of shots.

And that’s when the night really takes off.

Soon enough, Paige has made some sort of insinuation that she can drink better than me, and I’m going shot for shot with her. She’s really putting me through it, knowing just how to push my competitive nature. Me, her, and Azzi begin alternating between vodka and tequila. We’re about 5 shots in before Aubrey and Christyn challenge Paige and Azzi to a game of beer pong. Azzi shakes her head adamantly. “If Paige loses because of me, I’ll never live it down,” she insists. “Ava will go!”

I protest immediately when Azzi pushes me towards the table, Paige in hot pursuit. “No way! I’m not playing beer pong with a bunch of basketball players,” I say indignantly. Suddenly, I feel Paige’s breath hot on my ear, and her hand at my hip. “Hey, I got you, okay? Trust.” Her voice sends shivers through me, and I feel my eyelids flutter. Damn her. I elbow her ever so slightly, shooting her a grin. She smirks back.

Paige dips a ping-pong ball into a cup full of beer on our side, shooting it to theirs. It swirls into their middle cup, and she hands me the other one. I mimic her actions, making it into the cup at the tip of their triangle. We get the balls back, and Paige makes another shot, holding up a 3 on her hand when it plops into a cup at the corner of their triangle. I giggle at Christyn and Aubrey’s annoyed expressions, staggering into Paige. She braces her hands on my shoulders, her chest vibrating with laughter. “You good?” she laughs. I look up at her, her stark blue eyes framed by long, dark lashes, her perpetual smirk. “Yeah,” I breathe. “You want help with this shot?” She asks.

Paige doesn’t give me time to respond before she turns me around, wrapping her arms around me to position my arms, then flicking my wrist for me. The ball lands in their middle cup, and the other two girls groan, reaching for the cups to chug them. I expect Paige to move away from me, to drop my arms the second I’ve made the shot. But her hold lingers, an arm looped around my waist as she laughs, jeering at Christyn and Aubrey, tossing them the balls out of pity. Her arms stay around me, my head leaning back against her chest, hands lingering on her arms, swaying to the music I’m too drunk to recognize, dancing with the girl I’m too drunk to push away. She doesn’t remove her arms from around me until she has to shoot again.

I don’t remember who loses or wins that game of beer pong. I remember the taste of beer in my throat. I remember Paige’s voice in my ear - “Shot of Pink Whit?” I remember Azzi giggling as she leads me into the kitchen, her arms linked with mine as we down the shot of pink liquid.

I remember Paige’s eyes hot on mine, her gaze challenging and curious.

I walk up to her, holding out a shot of Pink Whitney. “Drink,” I command. Paige takes the shot from me, not breaking eye contact. She tips it back down her throat, straight-faced, and then wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

Fuck, she’s hot.

I clap gleefully, spinning away, but she catches at my waist, pulling me into her. “Avantika,” she murmurs. I cock my head. “Paige?” I ask. My heart is beating out of my chest, and I’m so drunk I don’t even realize how close we are. “Are you okay?” She asks sincerely. I nod happily, looping my arms around her neck. “Are you sure?” She repeats. I close my eyes, tipping my head back and laughing. “You don’t have to pretend to care about me,” I slur, lolling my head back towards her.

I must be drunk. I must be, because that’s not a flash of hurt that flits across her face. It can’t be.

So I continue.

“I mean, you never really cared about me, did you?” I scoff, hanging off of her neck. Her brow furrows. “Avantika, what are you-”

“You just wanted to have sex with me…” I say sadly, pouting, tracing her face with my finger. Paige’s eyes widen.

“It’s okay. I wanted to have sex with you, too,” I admit, shrugging, tapping my finger against her lips. Paige shakes her head. “Avantika, you’re drunk,” she says. My hands trail down to rest on her chest. “No, I’m not,” I say indignantly.

“You are.”

“No, you are,” I retort, getting frustrated.

“Ava-”

I push her away immediately. “Do not fucking call me that,” I spit. She holds her hands up in surrender. “Okay, I’m sorry,” she tries to amend, reaching for me again. I stagger away. “No, fuck you,” I snap. “Avantika, you’re so drunk right now. Please, just come lie down.”

She’s pleading with me. I hesitate. “Please,” she begs again, holding a hand out.

I hesitate. “Okay,” I whisper, taking her hand. She pulls me into her chest, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. We stumble through the apartment, the din of conversation in music echoing faintly in the background. Dimly, I hear Azzi’s concerned voice cut through the haze. “Is she okay?” Paige nods. “She was trying to keep up with me,” she explains. “And you let her?” Azzi demands. “Look, I’m sorry-”

“Put her to bed in your room. And no funny business. She’s my friend.”

“Whatever, Azzi.”

Before I know it, Paige’s soft bedspread is tickling my nose. “Avantika, you want water?” She asks. I stretch out, nodding sleepily. “Here, sit up.” I let Paige feed me water, her fingers fumbling with the cap of the bottle. Then she lays me back down. “Sleep, okay?” She turns to walk out the door.

And then, like it has a mind of its own, my mouth opens. “Paige?” I whisper. She turns around immediately. “Will you stay?” I ask softly.

Wordlessly, she climbs into bed with me, kicking off her shoes. She wraps her arms around me, pulling me against her body, and I let her, breathing her scent in, happy that I get to touch her. I snuggle into her, too drunk to care about the implications of how close we are or what we were doing the last time we were both on this bed.

“Paige,” I say quietly. “Hm?” I shift to look up at her, tracing the line of her nose with my eyes. “I don’t actually hate you,” I mumble. She laughs. “You better go to sleep before you say something you regret,” she murmurs. I blink, not fully understanding her words. But I nestle against her chest, letting my arm loop around her waist.

“Avantika?” She asks after a few minutes. I don’t respond. I feel her hand tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. “Ava,” she repeats, more firmly. I still don’t answer, too tired to move my mouth, humming softly.

Her breath whistles against my forehead when she says what she says next.

“God, I missed you.”

NOVEMBER 2020

“Ava.”

It’s just after a tough loss to Georgetown, and I’m exhausted. As soon as I exit the gym, though, Paige is waiting for me. I have no idea how she’s managed to get anywhere near the volleyball locker rooms.

I deliberately ignore her, brushing past her.

“Ava, come on, talk to me!” She calls, jogging after me.

“I have nothing to say to you,” I say shortly, walking faster.

“You owe me an explanation,” Paige pants, catching up to me and grabbing my arm. She spins me around to face her. “Why haven’t you answered my texts?” She demands. There’s a hint of hurt in her voice. There’s purple under her eyes.

Fuck her.

“Didn’t even realize you’d texted me,” I say casually.

Her eyes narrow. “That’s bullshit and we both know it.”

I shrug nonchalantly. “Maybe I just don’t think about you as much as you think about me,” I say, rolling my eyes. She looks taken aback. The truth is I’ve thought about her every single day since that night about a week ago. I’ve replayed every moment, every touch, every word of everything she’s ever done or said to me in my head. And then I remember her leaning in to kiss Audrey. The way she cupped her face. The way she grabbed her waist and pulled her in. The way she smiled that heartbreaking smile against her lips before she pulled away.

Paige recovers from her shock quickly, reaching for me again. I step back away from her.

“Ava,” she tries again.

It hurts to hear her say that. That name for me that only she’s ever called me, and it’d only been a couple of months, but this girl had made her way into my head and my heart.

“Don’t call me that,” I tell her coldly.

“What?” She asks, stepping closer again.

“I said don’t call me that. Are you deaf?” I demand. I know I’m being rude. Mean, even. I don’t care. I need her as far away from me as possible.

Hurt flashes across her features.

“Matter of fact, don’t text me at all,” I say, disgust lacing my tone. I force it there.

“Why the fuck are you acting like this? You were all over me a week ago, just begging me to fuck you-” Her voice is raising, but mine can, too.

“Oh, shut the fuck up, you piece of shit,” I snap at her.

“You know what, you’re being such a bitch right now-” She accuses, her features twisting with annoyance.

“It’s not my fault you can’t take a fucking hint,” I sneer.

She crowds my space, towering over me, leaning down slightly to snarl against my face.

“And what was the hint I was supposed to take, hm?” Her voice is quiet, but there’s anger in her tone, dripping into me in the way her breath hits my face. She’s so close, her scent so intoxicating, that I just want to give in. “Was the hint that you were stripping for me in my bed? Or that you were moaning my name? Which one was it, Avantika?”

I slap her. Not hard, just enough that she stumbles back. Her hand flies to her cheek, eyes widening in shock.

“I don’t want you,” I say coolly. Liar, liar, liar.

“So leave me the fuck alone.”

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic #fic #wcbb #paige bueckers x oc #✂️ anon #uconn wbb

170 notes · View notes

solannn · 5 months

Text

Haikyuu x Cat!male!reader

description: which,a cat human,[M/N] tries to forget his human past as a cat but it’s isn’t it's not easy as he thought

remember : this story implied male reader and I’m really strict about a fem aligned about reading it you can read it just don’t fetishized it please there’s no nsfw bcs the character aren’t adults so minor are accepted.

KITTY; 01

═══ ⋆★⋆═══

You had 2 owners, one is named Kuroo and the other Kenma.

Kuroo is the one who adopted him alone on a desolate street

Kenma sometimes visited you because you lived with Kuroo. Now you've been living with him for about 2 years, you've gotten used to seeing him leave first thing in the morning to go to class.

You decide to go to his room and the first thing you notice is his volleyball, do you remember seeing her playing with Kenma, won't it do any harm if you try to copy their actions?

You transform into a human and take the ball in your hands, at first you didn't understand the basics so you forced yourself to watch tutorials on the computer.

It's 1:30 p.m. you went to eat for your lunch break, you picked up the ball and started playing again for hours but you forgot that your owner came back around 8 p.m. and you made a mess of the house

The door opened, Kuroo was the first to notice he had his mouth open when he noticed you he exclaimed

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU ??" He enters the house and looks around to find his cat.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY CAT? ARE YOU AN ANIMAL KIDNAPER?? A THIE-” he noticed that you had cat ears and a tail.

“…” He looked you straight in the eyes you didn’t know what to say the room became silent before Kenma arrived.

“I didn’t know you had a b-” Kenma started to say appearing from behind making Kuroo jolt. Kuroo cut him off “I DON’T HAVE A BOYFRIEND."

🧚‍♂️

“Are you trying to tell me you’re my cat, Kitty?” You were sitting on the couch talking everyone thought you were crazy in this room.

Oh yes, you forgot that they called you 'Kitty' because of Hello Kitty and the lack of originality.

You sigh trying to find your words “Touch my ear” The 2 boys raised their eyebrows Kuroo took your ear and pulled it very hard, he could tear it off you cried out in pain.

“I SAID TOUCH NOT PULL.” “YOU NEVER KNOW OK!!” he shouted back. Kenma was massaging his tampons because they were screaming so loudly.

“See I’m real!” You said letting a sigh escape your mouth you didn't know why but you couldn't transform yourself maybe from one to stress or something else probably.

You closed your eyes trying to concentrate, you took deep breaths and relaxed your shoulders. A few seconds passed and you became a cat again, you meowed. Kuroo & Kenma look at you in pure shock.

“Now I believe you it wasn’t so hard to do that” said the boy you gave him a glare,a death glare.

🐱

You turned back into a human to talk to them, you sighed “Calling me [M/N] is better than Kitty” you said, scratching the back of your head.

“Why was Kitty a good first name?” Complains Kuroo “It was shitty and no originality 😐” said Kenma “hey! I had no idea ok?☹️”.

“Actually, if you went to high school, that would be great, wouldn’t it?” “Yeah..” Kenma replied with his eyes on his console.

Kuroo smirked, imagining scenarios where you were in high school “ you should hide your tail and your ears” you nodded Kuroo already had an idea in mind.

"But how old are you? In your human form ig" Kenma asked curiosily if you didn’t mind "I’m 16 years I think I should be in second year" Kenma nodded

“Ah! I almost forgot, [M/N]” a warm smile appeared on his face before disappearing “you clean the house 😘". You sighed

═══ ⋆★⋆═══

211 notes · View notes

amakumos · 1 year

Text

CUPID’S CORNER — twenty ; out of all people

because he’s a little shit, nishimura riki sends a totally embarrassing confession about you to “cupid’s corner”, a twitter account that posts anonymous confessions from decelis academy students. but when that joke confession suddenly makes a bunch of people confess to you on cupid’s corner (for real this time!) riki finds that he’s jealous — and oh… he can’t believe it took him a fake confession to realise that he’s crazily in love with you.

Riki, Taki, Jo and Jongseob’s room has been absolutely trashed five minutes into the celebration, and the team hasn’t even won the whole tournament yet.

Coach Lee had somehow got them more pizza than they asked for — there were seven people there, why in the world did he order 7 boxes?

“Let’s play truth or dare,” Harua says, taking a sip of his coke.

Jongseob chuckles awkwardly. “What about like… who’s most likely to?” he suggests. He knows Riki’s going to use this opportunity to ask everyone if they’re your mysterious secret admirer.

“Nah,” Sunghoon says. “Come on. Sit in a circle.”

Riki sits down the fastest. Jongseob is right — Harua has just handed Riki the opportunity to figure out who “volleyball anon” is on a silver platter, and Riki’s absolutely going to take this opportunity.

He just doesn’t know how bad it’ll hurt when that person finally admits it.

“You’re going to try and figure out who it is, right?” Taki asks Riki, and the boy nods. “Can’t you wait after the tournament?” he sighs.

“Why?”

“Because I know you, and you’re not going to take this well.” Taki says, sitting down besides Riki. “You’re jealous about (Name)’s mysterious admirer, and you might think now that you’ll handle it super well — but when you hear the person say they have a crush on your best friend, reality’s going to hit you and you’re going to be a mess. We have our tournament tomorrow, and I kinda want you to direct your focus at… winning.”

Riki groans. “I can handle this perfectly fine.”

“Suit yourself,” Taki says. “Just don’t go crying into your pillow tonight.”

“Okay, truth or dare! Let’s go with you, Riki.” Sunghoon says, a smirk on his lips. “Do you like (Name)?”

“I haven’t even answered truth or dare yet, Hoon.” Riki frowns.

“Okay. Truth or dare, Riki? Pick truth.” Harua whispers the last part. Just to piss him off, Riki picks dare.

Harua doesn’t seem to be upset about Riki’s decision at all. “I dare you to tell (Name) you like her.” Harua says.

Riki shrugs, pulling out his phone. He just needs to make it really obvious to you that he’s joking. Riki doesn’t want his confession to you to be done because of a shitty dare. “What do you want me to type?” he asks.

Harua seems surprised at Riki’s reaction. “Tell her you love her and you want to be her boyfriend.”

Lame. I’ve said that before, Riki thinks.

Except that was before he realised he liked you, but things shouldn’t be that different, right?

When he types it, he adds a shit ton of emojis. You’ll surely know he’s joking then. But when he presses the send button, something tells him that he shouldn’t do it. Then, he feels nervousness.

Taki examines his expression carefully. The older boy knows Riki’s a little bit scared to send the message.

You both playfully flirt with each other all the time, Riki thinks. He knows you well. And he knows that you won’t think much of it. He just has to not think much about it.

So he hits send, and immediately shoves his phone back in his pocket.

“Wow, no hesitation?” Heeseung asks, shocked.

“A lot of hesitation, if you looked closely.” Taki said, and Riki rolls his eyes. “Okay. Who’s next…” Riki says, eyeing everyone in the circle.

He suspects Jo the most, in terms of being your mysterious secret admirer. He’s talked to you before, and you’ve said that you thought Jo was really nice, and he made you laugh before.

Plus, he told Riki not to pry after he found out that Taki knew who “volleyball anon” was.

“Jo.”

The boy looks up from his phone. “Hmm?”

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Jo replies.

Riki smiles. Jongseob gulps.

“Are you volleyball anon?”

“No,” Jo replies. Riki looks at him intently. Jo doesn’t seem to be lying. Plus, Jo has a tell — the tip of his ears turn pink when he lies. And Jo’s ears aren’t pink.

“Hmm.” Riki hums. “Okay.”

So it’s not Jo. And Riki doesn’t think he suspects Harua at all now — the boy hasn’t really interacted with you since he first met you. Sunghoon and Heeseung don’t really talk to you too much, they just know you as his “girlfriend”.

It’s obviously not Taki. But if it was, Riki would jump off a bridge.

So that just leaves… Jongseob.

Riki thinks he’ll just wait his turn. But he thinks it all makes sense. Jongseob’s text message, asking about whether or not Riki thinks you like him back. Jongseob somehow not messaging the group chat whenever your name is mentioned. Jongseob’s barely noticeable jaw clenches when everyone else makes fun of Riki for liking you.

It’s got to be him. Out of all people, there’s nobody else it could possibly be. Unless, he’s overlooked some of Harua’s interactions with you. Or, if Taki has been tricking him, and the thought of that makes him want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

“Riki? Hello?” Taki waves his hand in front of his face. “Hmm? Sorry.” Riki says, snapping out of it.

“I was asking you truth or dare.”

“Truth?” Riki asks, and Taki smiles. “Good.”

“Riki, is it true you like (Name)?”

He should’ve seen this one coming. He might as well just admit it, right? He didn’t exactly want to confirm it, because… he would get teased mercilessly.

“Sure.” he says.

The room erupts into cheers, shouts and yells. Everyone is yelling. Everyone is saying “I knew it!”. Everyone is telling Riki: “Finally!”

Everyone but… Jongseob.

“Now was that so bad?” Taki asks Riki.

No, Riki thinks. It wasn’t bad at all. In fact, admitting his feelings out loud felt rather… nice.

“So, my turn now, right?” Riki asks. Everyone nods, and Riki lets out a deep breath before looking at Jongseob. “Jongseob, truth or dare?”

Jongseob knows one way or another, Riki’s going to spin this around and make him tell the truth.

Truth: Is it true that you’re volleyball anon?

Dare: I dare you to tell us if you’re volleyball anon or not.

There is no winning. He might as well come clean. That’s what he was talking about with Taki, before you had dropped by to hand over a package you wanted to give to Riki. Admittedly, Jongseob was jealous.

But to be completely honest, the boy knew he had practically zero chance. Maybe just a little part of him hoped that he would have some shot of being with you.

“Truth.” Jongseob says. Might as well get it done with.

“Are you volleyball anon?”

Jongseob wants to say yes. The answer is yes. He parts his lips to say the word — but nothing comes out.

It is all just silent.

And that silence tells Riki everything he needs to know.

“So… you are?” Sunghoon asks.

“Um… yes?”

All eyes are on Riki.

Fuck. Taki was right. Hearing the words from the person itself stings a little. And Riki feels like he shouldn’t be upset — because you’re great! Of course Jongseob would have a crush on you, because to Riki, you’re the best person alive. People would have to be stupid to not see how great you are. And he supposes that Jongseob is not stupid.

It’s just that jealousy is a terrible feeling. And that terrible feeling is telling Riki to tell everyone that he needs to get some air, and leave.

His phone pings with a message. Great timing, he thinks. He looks at the contact, and it’s you. “Give me a second, this is important. I’ll be back.”

Riki leaves the room, and the atmosphere inside gets less awkward much faster. “Is he going to kill me?” Jongseob asks.

“I don’t think so,” Taki hums. “I think he just needs some time to really digest this information.”

Riki checks the text message you sent him.

love you too, it reads, with a lot of emojis. are you drunk? is your follow-up message, even though you know Riki doesn’t drink.

no, he types back. just… nothing.

twenty －out of all people! previous ☆ next ♡ masterlist

author's note. welp he knows

CUPID'S CORNER! a riki smau. genre: smau, crack, fluff, idol au pairing: non-idol! riki x non-idol! reader warnings: swearing, ignore timestamps taglist is CLOSED!

726 notes · View notes

tteokdoroki · 2 years

Text

✉️; HOW LONG IS LONG ENOUGH? - A.MIYA

💌; synopsis - the one in which atsumu miya takes too long love you like you deserve.

↳ length: 1.3K

↳ warnings: angst, no happy endings, break-ups, fake dating as a pr stunt, shitty bf!atsumu.

↳ notes: yes i just had some angst i needed to get out of my system and tsumu was the target!! word vomit, not beta’d, i hope you enjoy <3 m.list ♡

“how long, atsumu?” your voice trembles in the way that makes him sick, tired in the way that makes his heart ache for you. atsumu pushed you with this and now you’re at your wits end, there’s a hole in your heart and he’s the one that caused it. “how long do i have to sit here and pretend that it doesn’t hurt to love you like this?” this argument isn’t new to either of you, almost routine at this point but it doesn’t mean it’s any easier to deal with, that it’s smooth sailing and will end in a quick truce— the both of you hate putting yourselves through this every time.

it goes a little something like this.

the jackals play an important match that you have to sit at home to see, cheering your boyfriend on from miles away. they win, and you get to watch him crack a sweaty smile on camera without being there to congratulate him, and then he leaves the stadium— arms wrapped around someone other than you, someone with a picture perfect smile to please the paparazzi and an attitude applauded by MSBY fans across the globe. she’s someone you’re not, someone completely unspecial to you, who doesn’t know how to love like you do, but she’s perfect for your atsumu in the eyes of his management team. a fake girlfriend in place of the wonderfully ordinary you.

“it’s fer the team.” the blonde mumbles simply. he’s too tired to run through this with you again, or perhaps it's that atsumu is too shameful to admit that this little arrangement to further his career has gone too far. he has no idea why you’d stuck around for so long, by now you should have had a ring, a dog and house with a white Pickett fence instead of the bachelor pad only the best volleyball bucks can buy.

the volleyball player had promised you that fake dating this girl wouldn’t have lasted for long— he’d begged you with teary brown eyes to stay with him. it would only be for a short while, so he could make enough money from the team to pay for a place where he could treat you like a princess. it would only be temporary, then he would use his starter salary to get you that ring you’d talked about when making out in the back of class all throughout highschool or when your pinkies were linked walking home from his late night practices. he’d tell you how many kids he’d want with you, what their names would be and who they’d look like in hushed whispers when you stayed over and osamu was half asleep in the bunk beneath your boyfriend’s.

atsumu miya wanted to give you the entire world, the diamond cut ring and the big fancy wedding— he swore on his life that he’d give it to you.

he had to, after all, you’d stayed. because you loved him, because leaving him over a shitty PR stunt wasn’t worth not having the opportunity to watch atsumu live his dream. you’d told him that yourself, even as his promises turned to what-ifs and he spent more time and effort working on his fake relationship than building a life with you.

your voice, still weak, possibly from crying cut’s through the setter’s flashbulb thoughts while he strips for bed and you follow him into the bedroom. you shiver, it no longer feels warm like a home should. “so, the team more important than me? is that what you’re saying?” there’s a crack in between your words, the one just before you burst into tears, the one where you’re holding back and one word from atsumu sends your walls crashing down. he would usually be the first to drop everything , pull you into his chest and press your head close to where his heart belongs so he can bring you back— calm you down. but tonight, the blonde miya can’t bring himself to move, to hold you like he would back when the world was less complicated and it was just you, atsumu and a dream to take over Japan.

“the team— volleyball, it’s my fuckin’ life. I’d do anything to keep my life like this, fake datin’ or not!” atsumu spins on his heel to face you, ignoring the red in your eyes and the tremble of your lower lip. you look so pale, drained of love and life and it kills him to know he’s the cause. “i gave my everythin’ to make sure we could live this life together, coverin’ our asses. keepin’ you off the fuckin’ streets. if you can’t see that, then maybe, ya don’t belong in my life anymore.”

he doesn’t mean to say it, not really. but the words have already been cast into the air, hanging heavy and clinging onto the tension building in the cold room. the look on your face tells atsumu that it’s too late to backtrack, to take back his words and kiss you and tell you that this girl his managers have him set up with mean absolutely nothing to him. that he feels sick every time he has to kiss her cheek for the cameras and tell the press that everything he does in his games is for her when it’s not. when it’s you, he owes all of his successes too. but it doesn’t matter, your worst fears have now been thrown out into the air that you breathe. all by the man you love.

the man who doesn’t need you.

“baby…i didn’t—“ atsumu tries, throat dry as he swallows, not finishing before you cut him off.

“what? and she does? she knows how you like your coffee? how you pack your gym bag? how you hate the noise hotel aircon makes and the way flying makes you nervous. she knows that? she loves you like that?” you spit at him like a snake full of venom, trying your best not to lose it in front of the shell of the man you used to adore. this is not your atsumu, he is not the boy with the shitty jokes and the temperament of a toddler. he’s a product of the fame and success you only dreamed of and had scribbled down into the notebook dedicated to your English classes— his name written in a heart under the doggy ear on the corner of the first page.

and, of course she didn’t, she was just an act— a cover up by his management to hide the real relationship atsumu had, now crumbling at his feet. “‘m sorry,” he says desperately, crossing the room to get to you in three short strides, backing up when you flinch away, back hitting the wall behind you. “how do i fix this? make it up t’ya?” the blonde feels his chest tighten, hands coming up to cup your face and you look away from him like you’ve been staring at the sun too long.

like you’ve been scorned and burned by the one thing that brings you life.

“end it, tell them you don’t want a fake relationship anymore. tell them it’s over, it’s done.”

you give atsumu miya the silence to choose, to make good on all the promises he ever made you or to possibly throw away the career he now had. the one he always wanted…but he makes you wait too long, he can see the dam you’ve built breaking and the tears you were holding back stream down your face and catch on the Cupid’s bow he used to kiss.

“i’ve waited long enough tsumu, hoping— praying that you’d make the right choice, time and time again…but i’ve waited long enough.” you say, tearing yourself away from the setter.

you leave that night, with bags packed that he never noticed, alongside the pain of the broken heart you’d be stuck with the entire time— one you’d been suffering for far too long, he decides.

2K notes · View notes

millenialfanfictionaddiction · 1 year

Text

Being Team Japan’s Manager:

Miss Manager gets her Period

Team Japan x female reader (she/her pronouns)

Warnings: period talk, swearing, blood mentioned, period symptoms (cramps, vomiting, bloating, etc)

A/N: I need comfort right now, feel free to ignore

Honestly you should have seen the warning signs YN

But somehow you missed the notification from your period tracking app

You missed the sighs of being extremely tired, moody and just down right agitated

You cried for no reason the other day and it still didn’t register

I mean, it’s not like you are busy or anything

You are the team manager for Team Japan after all

Probably the one of the worlds most dangerous jobs

But also super rewarding 😌

You’ve been the teams manager for a few months now

And you’ve definitely had your period before during practice

But this, this was completely different

You see, never has your period fully started right in the middle of practice

And certainly not with this much vigor 😬

Let’s just say, you aren’t on birth control at all

But you also never really needed it

Because as shitty as birth control can be sometimes, it can be very helpful

Anyways, it was a normal Friday morning and you woke up feeling… off

Like just blah

Honestly you didn’t think much of it because the Olympics were a month away

Which meant that the boys were on edge

Practices were lasting hours and downtime was limited

Not to mention you were dealing with more Bokuto Emo modes than normal and more tantrums from Atsumu and Kageyama

Basically the fatigue and blah feeling wasn’t unwarranted

You checked the mirror, noticing you had a small acne flare up on your jaw

You sighed, putting some coverup on it before heading out

On your way to the gym, you stopped to grab you and the coaches coffee

A typically Friday routine you had developed

Walking into the gym, the sound of volleyballs hit your ears

As well as the agitating, grating voices of those hitting said volleyballs 😒

You barely hit the door when it starts

“YNS HERE!!” Hinata screams

“YN please tell me you finished the laundry yesterday, we ran out of fresh towels and I only have 5 stashed away!”Sakusa chimes in

“YN please help tape my fingers,” Hakuba adds

“YN you promised you’d measure our jump heights today too! I have to show Hinata that I can get higher!” Hoshiumi shouts

“YN do you have that extra nail files? I left my kit at home,” Kageyama says

“YN I need you to toss for me because these other idiots can’t do it like you do!” Atsumu whines

Literally it’s like walking into a daycare but with giant volleyball players 😅

“Guys give me like 5 minutes please!” You shout, walking over to the coaches and handing them their coffee before stomping to your office

“Is Yn ok?” Coach asks as the assistant coach shrugs

You just need a minute to breathe, that’s all you need

Too bad you work with people who don’t understand the idea of “needing a minute to breathe”

*knock knock*

You groan as your door open and Iwaizumi appears

Please, you don’t even want to see Iwa today

Damn YN you ok 👀

“Iwa what?” You say a little annoyed

“Damn, did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something? I just came to give you the training schedules,” Iwa said as you sighed and took them

“Sorry Iwa, I’m just feeling off I didn’t meant it,” you said as Iwa nodded

“It’s cool Yn but maybe drink that coffee or something to help?” He says as you sigh and sit down

You manage to drink approximately 1 sip before Aran is at your door

“YN hey! I was hoping we could go over some plays?” He said as you resigned yourself to the fact that today just isn’t your day

A few hours in, you get ready for the team meeting

Your walking through the gym when the first cramps hit

“Ohh ouch!” You whince as you grab your side

“YN, you good?” Komori asks, noticing immediately

“Yeah I think I’m fine,” you say

“You know Yn, when my tummy’s upset, I go to the brathroom and it helps a lot!” Hinata says as Kageyama rolls his eyes

“Hinata nobody knows more about the bathroom than you do!” He says as Hinata glares at him

“I’m sure I’m fine, it’s almost lunch anyways. I think I just need to eat,” you say

You grab your lunch, sitting with the few mature memebers of the team

The VERY FEW

Aran, Hyakuzawa, Iwaizumi, Komori, Yaku and occasionally Sakusa, if he’s not on one 🙄

Anyways, as your finishing lunch, you stand up and it happens

You rn 👉🏻🧍‍♀️😐😳

The fear in your eyes 😅 trust me YN, we’ve all been there

“Yn you good?” Aran asks as Iwa and Hyakuzawa look at you

“Umm I think my period just started,” you say

Now the fear in your eyes has transferred to their eyes 👁️👄👁️

Please Yn, nothing is off limits with these guys

They talk about bodily functions daily and some of them have sisters, so like they aren’t clueless to what a period is

Before they can even say anything you RUN to the bathroom, and sure enough

“Dammit!” You scream as everyone in a 20 mile radius hears you

“Uhhh Yn, you good?” Yaku asks, knocking on the door to the bathroom

“Yeah but uhh I don’t have a tampon, can you grab me one form my desk?” You asks as Bokuto runs to your office

At this point, they’ve all come to the bathroom hallway and it’s like a team effort to help you 😂

Team bonding if you will

“Crap there isn’t any in here!” Bokuto shouts as Atsumu runs to tell you

“Yn Bo said there isn’t any in your desk!”

“Shit, check my bag!” You scream

“Check her bag bo!” Hakuba shouts

“Nothing!” Bokuto shouts back

“Fuck!” You say, resigning yourself to the fact that you’ll definitely need to make a makeshift toilet paper pad

“YN do you want me to run to the corner store?” Hinata asks

“Would you please? I’m not really looking to make a toilet paper pad,” you said as Hinata nodded

“Wait what’s a ‘toilet paper pad’?” Atsumu asks

“YN send Hoshiumi a picture of the tampons you use and we will go!” Hinata shouts as Hoshiumi and him race out

“Is anyone gonna answer my question?” Atsumu says, annoyed

“Idiot she would have to shove toilet paper in her underwear to stop the bleeding until she got a tampon or pad!” Yaku says

“Omg this toilet paper is so course and had like zero absorbency!” Atsumu shouts

“I know Sumu!! That’s why that’s not ideal!” You say

“YN do you need pain relievers?” Iwa asks

“If you have some, the cramps are getting bad,” you say as Iwa runs to his office

He grabs a heating pack and some pain relievers

He comes back just as Hinata and Hoshiumi return

“Damn that was like 7 minutes impressive!” Komori says

Hinata and Hoshiumi 👉🏻💅💅

“Here Yn, we got them!” Hinata says passing the pads into the bathroom

You manage to get yourself sorted, leaving some pads in the bathroom as you exit

You come out of the bathroom and are greeted with a forest 🌳

“Uhh hey guys?” You say as Iwa hands you the heating pack and some pain relievers

“Are you ok YN?” Bokuto asks 🥺

You just laugh

“I’ll be fine guys, I deal with this every month but I’ll admit, I was a little surprised this time!” You said

“Ok well I think it’s time we get back to work,” Aran says

“I’m super hyped up right now!” Hinata says as him and Hoshiumi race back to the gym

“Is anyone surprised?” Iwa says

“I’m actually surprised they managed to handle the task of getting tampons for Yn,” Yaku interjects

“This isn’t Hinata’s first time dealing with this, he does have a little sister,” Kageyama added

“And Hoshi?” Hakuba says

“He probably just wanted to race Hinata,” you laugh

“Ok guys, let’s go! Yn go sit down and out that heating pad on!” Iwa orders

“Iwa I’m fine-” you argue

“YN I wouldn’t argue with Iwa if I were you,” Sakusa interjects

“Yeah he’s super scary when he gets mad!” Kageyama shivers

“WHAT DID I JUST SAY?!?” Iwa yells as you all stiffin

Aye aye captain 🫡

698 notes · View notes

lesbianslvt666 · 9 months

Note

omg, hi!!!! I absolutely LOVED the Dina one-shot and I was wondering if you could write more about their situationship, maybe make Dina being all jealous and shit in a celebration party for their team winning or the reader seeing Dina with another gurl and start ignoring her and Dina having no clue of what she must've done and maybe a make up sex? pls pls I just need more dina fics😭😭😭

Hiiii, i didn’t saw your request until now sorry…

Kinda second pt to this

Volleyball!player!Dina x cheerleader!Reader

Cw: shitty writing lol, not proofread, fast make out sesh, girls kissing (😱), alcohol consumption (sorry) mentions of 🍃, not smut yet cause i hit writers block (again, i am so sorry to disappoint :((), kinda angsty, Dina is kinda troubled cause she feels guilty, she loves you but she just shy.

Your team decided to celebrate that same night the victory against Dina’s team, as a “rub it on their faces” kinda of party, inviting them all to it.

When you arrived to your house, all you wanted was to get a good bath and relax, however, your friends insisted that it would look bad for you not to be there.

So after relaxing and showering you came out with a towel and your phone, music playing from it to get you pumped.

You tossed to phone to your bed, going through your wardrobe, your phone ringed.

Once

Twice

Thrice…

So you choose to check it, you knew it was dina for you had another ring tone just for her.

At first it was to know not to open her conversation around your teammates, it slowly became the fluttering sensation of knowing she was texting you.

Din😮‍💨

Hey babe whatcha doinggggg??

I was thinking

Maybe some us time??

You💕

Hello hot stuff, just freshly out of shower yup 🤩

I actually was getting ready to go to the party, you know, for my team who won against yours??

You going??

You wanted to press every button of her, to get her as bothered as you possibly could…

Din😮‍💨

Nah, iont wanna go with a bunch of petty winners.

You💕

But amma be there… with this dress…

You tossed your phone back to the bed, grabbing *the* dress, soft fabric sliding on your body as you put it on.

You took a pic, she could see your pretty lips and neck, collarbones exposed and the dress on full display.

You

but anywayyyy, ill be there tonite.

She didn’t reply.

You didn’t though much of it, as you got a call from one of your teammates.

“Hey pretty, amma pick you up, i am two streets away, you better be out when i arrive”

She didn’t let you reply, it was a command not a request and you just giggled at her hurried tone, taking your keys and your purse with a lipgloss and your phone inside.

The ride only cheering you more, loud music blasting on the speakers and a few ciggs shared with your friends.

If your trainer knew you would never hear the end of it…

Arriving to the party was fast, music blasting and people drinking all over.

Your team greeted you all with loud screams and shiny grins.

You scanned the room with your eyes, not a Dina on sight…

Boring.

You walked amongst your team, greeting friends around but going straight to the kitchen were the drinks are.

Thats when you bumped on Joslyn.

Her long and strong hands took a glass from behind you, getting closer to you body.

“How you holding up pretty?” Her voice was low and raspy, and as much as you thought she was pretty, she didn’t made you feel what Dina did.

She didn’t made you stomach flutter and your knees weak like dina does even just by looking at you.

Her eyes didn’t sparked the fire in your gut like Dina’s do.

Her hands didn’t make you feel like a burning wildfire that booms with every brushing of her touch.

But still… you agreed to her requests at dancing with you.

Few songs in, and a couple of glasses down.

Your head was spinning, Joslyns hands on your hips, swaying to the beat of the music till you finally saw her eyes.

Pretty brown orbs chasing you with disdain.

She wasn’t mad at you.

No, she could never.

She was mad at the situation, how come neither of you were courageous enough to be honest with each other.

Why was now she at this party, partially high with her hands on this chick, dancing stupid, jealousy corrode through her veins while she saw you swaying your hips back and forward on this girl.

Eyes glued to hers while you took it as a challenge, both with other women while thinking of each other.

She couldn’t take it anymore, she excused herself to the nearest bathroom, either to cry, punch something or throw up.

Her mind was running laps of things she could say to, debating whether or not to tell you how she felt.

Cause if you felt the same how come you hadn’t say anything yet huh?

Like it’s not Dinas responsibility to carry what you to had to the next step, right?

Because if you needed her the same way she needs you, you’d had already do somethi-

“DINA, LET ME INNNN!!” your words running out your pretty mouth like chopped fragments of you wild mind.

“Dina, please, we umm… talk! We need to talk” every word came down to a hit on the door, desperate attempts to open the door and groans of failed attempts.

Dina opened the door right after that, getting you inside the bathroom with her.

Your pretty eyes scanned her body now up close.

Black skirt running up her beautiful thighs, her lace top plumping up her boobs and you almost went feral.

She looked as pretty as always but this time you couldn’t hide how hot and bothered you were for her.

Your hand moved upwards without your knowledge, caressing on top of her clothed breast.

She took your wrist with a swift motion that took you out of your drunken state.

Your body flushed on hers on the blink of an eye.

And she kissed you hard enough to melt, your legs felt like jelly.

Her hands gravitated to your ass while one of yours moved to her tit and the other to her lower back, feeling her picking nipples on your own.

Soft lips smacking to each other, delicious tongues playing and exploring the already known territory and sucking mouths that were melting on each other.

The kiss so heated that the saliva was drooping down from your chin.

She stopped you.

Hand on your ass and the other on your neck.

“Tell me what you want angel, please i meed to know” her mouth molding on to a frown that made your head fall to the side.

She looked to cute.

“I want you to fuck me”

Her eyes drooped down.

Why does she looks sad right now huh??

What else does she wants?

“Nothing more?” Her hand on your neck falling to your lower back.

What more?

Isn’t she the one that proposed to have this hidden thing?

The one that would come over and whenever you thought of getting raw and intimate with yours and her feelings she changed the topic to sex?

She basically silently told you all she wanted was a casual sexual situationship.

And at first it was fun and it didn’t hurt like this.

At first it was a challenge seen her “flirt” with the fans in the crowd.

At first it was exciting to just fuck.

But now, you just feel like a side dish, never the main.

You might be the favorite for a while but she still preferred others.

So you pushed her with the hand that was on her tit.

Your drunken state returning in shapes of tears that outed your aching heart.

Rapid thoughts razing in your mind while your heart was booming inside.

“More like… what?”

Your voice came as a whisper, the room felt like it was lacking oxygen, warm and cold at the same time.

“Like something more… important?”

Fuck her.

Your hand pointed at her.

“Oh now you want something more than this?”

Your voice cracking between your choked sobs, you couldn’t stop your crying and Dinas heart felt like imploding on her chest.

Her pain mirroring yours.

“I am sorry…”

“I need water” your voice almost inaudible, while your hand twisted the knob, leaving Dina behind to admire you leaving.

You ran straight to your friends to grab your things but they stopped you from talking with loud screams of “the queen is back” and “we missed you baby”’s

A shot of don cuervo was tossed to your hands while your smiling friends were counting down, their happiness sticking to you a bit, you choose to stay.

The music was booming and you had nothing to stop you from celebrating your and your team’s victory.

So you danced on, with, to and for every girl around, you saw Dina, looking at you from a corner while talking to one of her teammates.

You chooses to give her the entertainment she was craving.

You jumped on the bar table, dancing around and swaying your hip to the rhythm.

The dancing, the crowd, the alcohol and the cigs you had smoked before making you feel too warm and uncomfortable.

So you took your shirt off while the girls and boy cheered for you.

Dina was in between the crowd.

So you danced more sensually, you could see she was pissed, but the show was short lived when you tripped on a bottle and slipped down

Two girls sloppily caught you and Dina took you from their holdings giving the excuse that age was the “best friend” and they fell for it.

“Hey, princess you are a bit too drunk, let me get you back on your dorm” her voice was soothing and soft to your ears, your brain didn’t wanted ti remember why she was mad at Dina in the first place.

Not when she was this pretty, not when she looked this hot, and less when she felt this good.

She helped you out of the house while putting your shirt back on in the process.

Your protests against going with her, leaving the party so early and putting back on your shirt were answered by a few “ill get you back home, it is what it is” and a lot of sorry’s.

Waking up after partied wasn’t usually the part you were looking for, and less when you had drink this much alcohol with almost to no water in between the process.

Pounding head and dry mouth, your face felt oily and you just needed to shower.

You looked to your side, a note was left there, with your clothes from last night.

You looked down.

A pair of sleeping pants and and an oversized shirt, she had left you panties but taken your bra off, what gentlewoman, you rolled your eyes.

You stepped to the shower, wobbling legs and dizzy walk but you got there.

Warm water hitting your body just right while you choose your favorite shampoo, lathering it in your hands before massaging it in your scalp.

The relaxation getting the best of you, almost lulling you to sleep.

When you heard the front door it startled you a bit but you didn’t thought much of it, your roommates normally where very active in the mornings.

However, Not just the front door opened, after a few seconds your room door opened, you could hear the sound of steps and plastic bags getting planted on your side table.

The sounds stopped.

For a few minutes there was only silence. Silence that was cut down by the sounds of rattling paper.

You stepped put of your shower, towel around your body and dina sat on your bed.

“Hello pretty… i have breakfast for you.” Her voice became smaller with each word, her eyes were glued to the ground and she looked so adorable.

“What are you doing here?” Your question might have come out harsher than you meant for she now looked back at you, face tinted with offense.

“Sorry I was the one you had to see first thing in the morning, ill get it going.” She rushed to her feet trying to get out the door, you wanted to stop her.

But memories of last night hit you and you felt embarrassed and hurt, you felt too exposed so you just hurried to close your door and put on some clothes.

When you saw the breakfast your mind ran to giving it to your roommates and forget about dina.

Bu you couldn’t, your stomach was aching with hunger and it just looked so good.

You took a bite and you almost went nuts

The flavors were expanding on your louth and you felt this warm on your chest just to the thought of Dina going out of her way to bring you you favorite dish.

Your head went back after taking a sip of your water and when your focus returned to take another bit you realized the scrunched up paper that was just tossed in the ground beside the garbage can.

You took it and opened it.

The note that was on your bedside.

A letter.

My Dearest Love.

I just realized how stupid I had been.

How for a very long time i had left your feeling slip pass me like water being absorbed in the hot pavement.

Not giving you back what you were gifting me.

I love you, but I am a pussy.

So i cannot tell you this in words.

However, i know i had hurt you many times before.

So, if you choose your peace before me, I’ll accept with love.

Yours truly, Dina, the girl that wants to be yours forever but is too afraid to ask you.

You left your room right after finishing your very delicious breakfast, taking your car keys and igniting the engine like your life depended on this.

She might be very avant-garde (shit at writing) figurative speech, but you needed her and to make things better.

You got to her place in eight minutes when it normally takes you fifteen, might be illegal in some parts but she was worth jail.

You nocked without thinking, just pure adrenaline behind your eyes.

She opened the door, she was wearing an oversized band tee and a pair of white socks.

Her eyes opening wide when she saw you standing i front of her.

“I want to be yours too”

(I want need her)

Next part to be the smut only?? (I hit writers block again) sorry :((

212 notes · View notes

missmeinyourbones · 1 year

Text

LIKE REAL PEOPLE DO

cw: angsty fluff? is that a thing? light mentions of alcohol and weed, suna is drunk and silly, reader is designated driver (drink safely, my friends!!!), heavy mutual pining, inspired by that normal people scene (brothers...iykyk)

For a midsummer night, the breeze outside is surprisingly chilly.

Feeling more like September than July, your car window is barely cracked to let a bit of air inside the small stuffy vehicle.

The streets are barren as you drive through the backroads of your hometown—which is expected, as no one sane tends to willingly drive at 1:31 AM. Not unless they received a brief text from a blonde-haired setter asking you to handle a “liability” for him.

Equally intrigued as you were annoyed, you agreed to his weird request and he dropped a pin to his location almost instantly.

You remember him talking about some lowkey Inarizaki reunion this weekend—just like the old days, shitty booze in someone’s parent’s basement and cheap weed from the town’s local plug. Pro-volleyball players and all, you suppose some things never change.

With the lack of details Atsumu gave you, you don’t know what to expect as you drive to the marker on your GPS.

Seeing how he was cognizant enough to text you, you doubt he’s the one in need of assistance. It’s unlike Osamu to get belligerent enough to leave a party early, so he’s pretty much ruled out of your list of suspects, too. And hell would freeze over the day you see Kita drunk enough to need a designated driver.

So pulling up to the address and seeing a familiar headache comically slumped on the front steps of the porch, you don't know why you ever dared to be curious.

When you see him, you think he’s sleeping. It’s not until you park the car and make your way towards his slumped frame that you can confirm; even while his eyes are closed and he’s not necessarily awake, Suna is very much not asleep.

Nothing but an unruly mop of brunette slightly sways as he bobs his head from side to side, almost like he’s following along with a one-sided conversation in his thoughts. He’s alone, aside from a few discarded beer cans and the diluted thumping of the music from inside.

The anxiety inside of you can’t help from asking, "Did they just leave you here?"

You don’t expect an answer from him—more so thinking out loud at the brute stupidity and lack of safety from the whole situation. You make a mental note to scold Atsumu for his critical thinking skills the next time you see him.

At the sudden sound of your voice, Suna notices you walking toward him. Wrapped in a sweatshirt nearly swallowing you whole, he grins brightly. Your genuine concern paired with your silly choice of apparel somehow fits the situation nicely, he decides.

"Nah," he slowly shakes his head. Through squinted eyes, he hazily meets your gaze with a teasing smile, "They told me to sit and stay, like a good boy."

You don’t know why his words light a fire in your stomach, and even more alarmingly, you don’t know why you don’t hate it. You can’t help but laugh a bit at his drunken words.

Nodding your head to where he (somehow) comfortably sits on the concrete stairs, you hum in agreement.

"I’m surprised you actually listened," you exhale.

The summer breeze blows once more, and while it makes you shiver, Suna finds it refreshing compared to the stuffy confines of someone’s childhood basement.

He shrugs lazily as he presses his palms onto the porch, slowly bracing himself to stand.

"Only ‘cause I knew you were already on your way," he tries to play it off casually, like his insides weren't churning with acidic excitement to see you tonight. “More scared of you than I am of them."

He’s always been an honest drunk, more deadpan and blunt than his usual reserved facade. You bite your tongue at the pride that swells in your chest with the honesty of his remark.

"Good.”

As he stands, Suna stumbles slightly against the wooden railing of the deck, leaving you rushing to his side to support his stupor. He giggles at his own lack of awareness before regaining his composure, using the railing for support as he mumbles out a sleepy “M’fine.”

Not fully believing him, you let your hands linger a bit by his side, not quite touching him but still close enough to be prepared for another tumble.

Suna takes a deep breath to sober himself and opens his eyes to face you. He stares at you for a moment or two, eyes flickering through your features as he struggles to decide which one to focus on. The way your cupid’s bow scrunches in thought. How your pupils dilate with the lack of light. The stray piece of hair blown over your eyes and resting in the middle of your forehead.

It’s beautiful, he thinks. All of it. How easily breathtaking you can be on a chilly summer’s night, in an empty street, wearing a giant sweater, with a man who is irrevocably in love with you.

But, he knows he’s too drunk to be thinking like this.

He closes his eyes once more, grounding himself with the crisp inhale.

"It feels like the sidewalk is moving."

He hears your laughter and immediately opens his eyes again to see it—and, oh, he adores the sight. Flushed cheeks and glimmering eyes, he completely soaks in the moment of you entertaining his terribly lame joke. He’d take a moment to thank the stars watching above, but he doesn’t dare to look away for a second.

"I promise you, it’s not," you whisper, once again supporting his side and beginning the so-close but so-far-away walk back to your car. “How much did you even have to drink?”

His head plops onto your shoulder, “Never ask a man how much he’s had to drink. Weren’t you ever taught that?”

You scoff and he wants to kiss you, wants to taste it on his tongue and savor it forever. But he can barely lift his head, so he chooses to ignore the overwhelming urge.

Before he knows it, as if his feet were moving on their own, he's leaning up against the passenger side of your car.

“I don’t consider you a man,” your voice calls his attention back to reality, “I consider you a nuisance.”

He hums at your words, again finding his drunk gaze unable to be pulled away from you. Leaning against your car, he giddily smiles at seemingly nothing at all.

When you're about to usher him into the passenger seat, he speaks up, and it's not what you expect. Eyes still lost in yours, he wonders.

"Do I still have pupils?"

The question catches you off guard, has you shaking your head in disbelief and adoration at the nuisance before you. His eyes bore into yours, pupils still intact and practically shaped like hearts as he awaits your answer.

"Yeah," you reply. "They're about the size of saucers right now, but yes, you have pupils."

"S'fine,” Suna, as sleepy as he is, doesn't miss a beat. “They always get like that when I see you, anyways."

And something is suddenly different. In the streetlights illuminating from above, the moment turns intimate like the magnetic flip of a coin.

His words aren't flirty or teasing, they're genuine. Pure. His gaze leaves little room to argue with the fact that while he’s dizzy and mumbling and not nearly in the right state of mind, he’s honest, nonetheless.

And it feels wrong to take advantage of that.

“Okay,” you softly decide, opening the door and gently ushering his lanky body beneath its roof, “let’s go.”

He complies without restraint, lets you cover his head when it nearly skims the roof and buckle him in with caution. He rests his cheek against the cool window for the entire way to his apartment. It’s a quick drive, and you learn that Suna looks just as pretty illuminated in the red lights as he does in the green ones.

When your car is parked and his apartment complex taunts you from across the street, you call his name.

“Suna?”

“...”

“Rintaro?”

“Hmmph?”

Your hand is gentle on his shoulder, a featherlight weight to let him know you’ve arrived. And he knows—in fact, he was awake the whole drive. Watching the moon follow your car and relishing in the smell of your perfume invading his senses.

He feels you tap his shoulder again, “Do you need help getting out?”

“Y’know,” he turns his head to lazily send you a smile, “you shouldn’t try and get your hands on a man when he’s drunk.”

Your palm sweats against the steering wheel. He’s so infuriating and you want to kiss him—two things you’ve officially decided are not mutually exclusive. You choose to fight off a grin, instead.

“Well, you don’t usually need help getting out of the car when you're sober.”

“Yeah, but even if I was sober, I’d still want y’to touch me.”

The coin flips again. Words that are usually meant to be dirty or promiscuous are pouring out from his soul and directly into your heart. He means them, and both of you know it.

Something inside of you aches to grab his hand, so you do. You scratch the inevitable itch and hold his palm in yours. He lets you with ease, even squeezing it for good measure as he delicately plays with your fingers.

You squeeze his hand right back, and he knows it's saying all the things you can't right now.

With a warm belly, you smile softly, “Go to bed, Rintaro.”

Hearts in his eyes, he nods and opens the door. He leaves your car and crosses the street with a newfound caution to get home safely. Because he knows that while tomorrow inevitably will come, tonight—that feeling in your car—can never be taken from him.

On the elevator ride up to his apartment, he can’t help but flex the hand in his pocket—the one that squeezed yours a few moments ago.

Still trying to relish in the faint feeling of your skin on his, Suna begs himself not to be a coward when he’s sober in the morning.

#suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna x you #suna rintaro x you #suna fic #suna rintaro fic #suna angst #suna rintaro angst #suna fluff #suna rintaro fluff #hq suna #haikyuu suna

533 notes · View notes

sweetheart-ashy · 3 months

Text

ASHER PRESENTS REDACTED VOLLEYBALL AU (and with headcanons)

(Special thanks to; galaxy, Liv & Lorelite (og baz lvr) for giving me the idea and helping me with volleyball info!!)

TEAM D.A.M.N

lasko : team manager (he cried on the court once)

damien : libero

huxley : wing spiker

gavin : middle blocker

Xaiver (rip) : setter

Lovely : outside hitter

TEAM SHAW CLAN

david : team manager (he made lasko cry once)

milo : libero

asher : setter

vincent : middle blocker

sam : all-around

Darlin/tank : wing spiker

TEAM UN-EM(powered)PLOYED

geordi : spiker

Angel : Setter (flirts with david anytime they play a match)

Baabe : middle blocker

Honey: wing spiker (enemy to lovers slowburn with cheerleader!guy)

TEAM “TAKE A LONG WALK OFF A SHORT PIER”

hush : just shows up at random games and sits on random teams benches

alexis : ex-player for team shaw clan (just stopped showing up)

porter : ex-player for team shaw clan

quinn : quit because he’s a pussy (tank kicked him so hard he curled into a ball and cried)

kody : banned off team D.A.M.N and any other college team (comes and watches all the games cus he SoOoOooOo obsessed (lasko has tried to get him banned))

adam : was banned. (And beaten up after cus he was a shitty guy)

hudson : Annouces all the games

Guy: team unemployed cheerleder

Caelum: team D.A.M.N cheerleader

Freelancer: second cheerleader (has to drive caelum to all the games and shamelessly flirts with gavin if hes benched) ((was offered a spot on the team but said nah))

echo : runs the (ILLEGAL.) betting pool for all the matches

(Sorry if i missed one of ur favs)

88 notes · View notes

ambrossart · 2 years

Text

DANCING WITH MYSELF

— PART NINE

summary: eddie crashes senior prom hoping to steal a dance with his dream girl, chrissy cunningham. instead, he spends the night stuck in the women’s restroom with you—her snarky, insecure best friend. ❖ pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader ❖ word count: 7,133 ❖ genre: fluff with some angst ❖ series status: complete ❖ warnings: no season 4 spoilers, some coarse language, body image issues, typical teenage insecurities, angst, jealousy, anxiety, secret crushes, childhood memories, happy ending, lots of 80s music, me knowing nothing about d&d, seriously none of the gameplay is accurate, consider yourself warned

Eddie was more than a little caught off guard when you suddenly wanted to join his summer D&D campaign.

You were popular, you were on the volleyball team, and he was just the trailer park kid whose father was constantly in and out of prison. “Eddie Munster”—yeah, that’s what they called him (because he listened to heavy metal, dressed all in black, and had the pasty complexion of someone who hadn’t seen the sun a day in his life). He was confident that ninety percent of the student body had no idea what his actual name was. To them, he was simply Eddie Munster, the kid destined to spend his life behind bars.

Needless to say, Eddie was a little skeptical when Jeff called an emergency meeting in the science lab two weeks before the last day of school. He said he had a friend (“Well, actually she’s my lab partner”) who was interested in joining their summer D&D campaign, an intense and insanely immersive three-month-long crusade that Scott Sloman spent the entire school year working on. It was his pride and joy, his magnum opus, and Scottie would never waste such a masterpiece on a new player.

Unless, of course, that new player was a girl.

Scottie’s wandering hands came to rest on a clumsy stack of ungraded quizzes. He picked it up and tap, tap, tapped the pages neatly into order.

“She cute?” he asked Jeff, with no shame at all.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “No, Scottie, she’s not cute. She’s just really, really annoying.”

“Oh, so you know her?”

Eddie felt his whole body recoil from that grossly incorrect assumption. “What?” he said. “No, I don’t know her. I just… I just know who she is, that’s all.”

Eddie first saw you at the middle school talent show. Corroded Coffin had just finished their first performance in front of a live audience. They played Judas Priest’s “Rock Forever” because it was the only song the principal didn’t immediately reject for having violent, anarchic, or offensively unchristian messaging.

“Why can’t you boys play something peppy, something snappy… you know, like The Beach Boys or The Beatles?”

“Dude, fuck The Beatles.”

Eddie didn’t care. He just wanted to play some music. Throw himself in it. Lose himself in it. Forget about his shitty, miserable life for just three and a half minutes.

That night, in front of a packed audience of students, faculty, family and friends, Eddie Munson strummed the final power chord and felt the notes clash against each other and crash into a concrete wall of pure silence. The illusion had shattered, and Eddie was back in reality. He was grounded in it. Sinking in it like quicksand. He staggered back and looked out, shielding his eyes from the glaringly bright stage lights, and in the silence he heard a sound that made his stomach drop.

Someone was laughing. Laughing at him.

Eddie tracked the sound, his eyes darting anxiously around the faceless crowd, and he found you giggling in the front row with your fist over your mouth, giggling yourself to tears. Eddie would never forget that sound for as long as he lived.

“Oh, she’s that girl, huh?” Scottie swiveled around in the teacher’s chair like a movie villain. “So Munson’s little heckler has finally come to ruin D&D for him… Now that should make for a very interesting campaign. I like it. She’s in.”

Eddie jumped to his feet. “Hey, you don’t get to decide that!”

“Umm, I’m the Dungeon Master. It’s my campaign, and I’ll decide who plays it. Keep giving me lip, Munson, and you can find something else to do with your summer vacation.”

“Fine,” said Eddie with a defiant shrug. “If she’s in, I’m out.”

Grant gasped. “What? Dude, you can’t be serious!”

And Jeff said, “Awww, come on, man. You can’t just skip the summer campaign. We’ve been looking forward to this all year.”

Scottie called for silence with his hand. “Hey, if Eddie the Craven wants to run away from a twelve-year-old girl, let him. I mean Jesus, Munson, do you even hear yourself right now? So a girl laughed at you… Who cares? She’s not the first and she definitely won’t be the last. We’re freaks, dude. It comes with the territory. Either ignore it or embrace it, like I do. You can’t spend the rest of your life hiding from girls.”

“I’m not hiding from girls,” Eddie said. “I just… Look, why do we play D&D?”

Jeff said, “Because it’s fun.”

Eddie pointed at him exuberantly, grinning ear to ear. “You’re damn right, it’s fun. It’s the best fucking game in the world! But even more than that, it’s an escape, right? It’s the one time when we can do whatever we want, be whoever we want, and we don’t have to worry about the cool kids making fun of us, girls laughing at us, being knocked around or thrown into dumpsters…”

Scottie looked over at Grant. “You still smell, by the way.”

Eddie went on: “My point is, D&D is our only safe haven, you guys. And yeah, maybe one day we won’t need it so much. I mean, shit, maybe we’ll get to high school and everything will magically get better. Maybe we won’t be seen as the freaks anymore. I don’t fucking know. But right now, we need it. And I’m telling you, if we let that girl in… if we let her into our safe haven, she’s gonna poison everything, man. She’s gonna make fun of our characters and laugh at us when we narrate their actions, and then we’re all gonna feel self-conscious and we’re gonna start to pull back, and then—shit—then the whole game becomes pointless. Then it’s just middle school all over again, and I don’t wanna deal with that all summer!”

Jeff said, “She’s not joining to make fun of us.”

But Eddie didn’t believe him. “Oh yeah? Then why is she joining? Y/N doesn’t even like fantasy, so why does she suddenly wanna join our campaign? Huh? If not to make fun of us, then why?”

Jeff’s mouth opened and closed helplessly. He turned away. “Hey, you’d have to ask her that, man. I’m just the messenger here.”

Scottie huffed impatiently and spun around in his chair. “Oh my god, this is getting ridiculous now… Look, how ‘bout we just vote, okay? Is that fair enough for everybody? Everyone who wants to hang out with a cute girl all summer—”

“I already told you, she’s not cute.”

“—a girl who Eddie claims is not cute, but honestly he’s probably just saying that because he wants to keep her all to himself. If that sounds at all appealing to you, please raise your hand now.”

Scottie’s hand flew up as soon as he finished speaking. Then, slowly, Jeff’s hand went up, too.

“And all opposed?”

Eddie and Grant raised their hands.

“Well, it looks like we have a tie, gentlemen.” Scottie leaned back and plopped his feet on the teacher’s desk. “And when there’s a tie, the Dungeon Master gets the final say, so…”

“Dude, that’s bullshit!” Eddie said. “Gareth isn’t even here to vote.”

“Well, that’s because Gareth is doing finger paintings in elementary school right now. He’ll get a vote as soon as he hits puberty, okay? Until then, I’m pulling rank here, and I say she’s in. There. It’s decided. It’s happening. Get over it, Munson. Jeff, go tell your cute little female friend she can join our campaign.”

“You can tell her yourself,” Jeff said. “She’s waiting right outside.”

Everyone cried out at once: “WHAT?”

“You brought her here?”

“And you made her wait outside this whole time?” Scottie clawed at his acne-scarred face in frustration, digging deep furrows into his cheeks. “Oh my god, I’m surrounded by Neanderthals! See, this is exactly why we need a girl in our group. None of you know how to function in civilized society! You guys need to stop hanging out with Eddie and learn some damn social skills.”

Scottie got up and started towards the door.

Eddie’s hand shot out. “Hey, don’t—don’t open that!”

And Scottie gave him a baffled look that screamed, Are you fricken kidding me right now, dude?

“Damn, this girl’s really got your panties in a twist, doesn’t she, Munson? Yeah, she’s got you quivering in your boots like she’s the Big Bad Wolf or something.” He shook his head. “I’m tellin’ you, man, you better get your shit together before next year or else those high school girls are gonna eat you alive, bro.”

Scottie opened the door and went out. Eddie reluctantly followed, for no other reason than to prove he wasn’t scared of the Big Bad Wolf.

They found you in the hallway, sitting on the floor with your legs sprawled out in front of you, wearing a pair of embroidered jeans and an oversized sweater that hung on you like a sack. You were humming a wordless tune as you played with one of the paper fortune tellers Chrissy had made during your last period class. She said she had hidden a secret message in one of the folds, and you were determined to find it without cheating.

You worked the fortune teller with your fingers. “B-L-U-E… and… one, two, three…”

The door swung open. Eddie took one step out, saw you, then stepped right back and huddled against the doorframe. Casually, of course, as casually as he could. Then he caught you peeking at him with a mischievous little smile, and he felt his heart race with trepidation, thumping hard against his ribcage.

“So,” you said, “am I in?”

Scottie wore a self-satisfied smirk. This is her? the smirk said. This is the girl that’s got you so scared, Munson?

He approached you with an outstretched hand. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, m’lady. I’m Scott Sloman, but you can call me Scottie. I’ll be serving as your humble yet undeniably charismatic Dungeon Master this summer. I’m also the co-founder and lead singer of the critically acclaimed heavy metal band Corroded Coffin.”

Your eyes widened in apparent awe. “Critically acclaimed, huh…? Remind me again: didn’t you guys get last place in the talent show? Or am I thinking of another shitty metal band?”

Grant piped up from inside the classroom: “No, you’re thinking of us.”

Eddie shot Grant a sharp, disapproving glare, then turned back to you. “Hey, we didn’t get last place, okay? We got ninth.”

“Yeah, out of like ten acts,” you said with a flippant shrug, “and the last act never even took the stage because Todd had a nervous breakdown and threw up all over himself backstage. We’re talking Campbell’s Chunky Soup. It was everywhere, you guys, like in his shoes and all over his creepy little puppet, and people were like walking in it and slipping in it. It was super gross but also kind of hilarious. Like, I would’ve totally given him first place for that, but I wasn’t on the judging panel, so…”

Eddie made a weak gesture toward you. “See?” he said to Scottie. “This is the kinda shit I’m talking about. You really wanna listen to this all summer?”

Scottie said, “Hey, I don’t mind a girl with some spunk,” and he knelt down in front of you, causing you to draw your legs all the way in and fold them underneath you. Scottie barely noticed. “That’s Eddie, by the way. As you can see, the guy has no sense of humor. Also, I’m pretty sure he’s scared of you.”

“Really?” you said. “I can’t imagine why…”

Then you looked up at Eddie with an impish twinkle in your eyes (how brightly they sparkled beneath the florescent lights), and he felt his whole body tense up with dread. This was all part of your plan, wasn’t it? First, you somehow got Jeff under your spell, corrupted his mind and turned him into one of your minions, and now you were slowly working your dark magic on Scottie.

I see what you’re doing, Eddie thought. You’re trying to turn all my allies against me. Well, it won’t work because Grant’s mind is a fortress and Gareth’s as stubborn as a dwarf. They won’t be so easily swayed by your charm.

Meanwhile, Scottie had taken out a pen and was writing his address on your hand. “Our first session will be held on the first Friday of summer vacation. We meet every Friday through Sunday, from 10:00 AM to 8:00 PM. If you can’t commit to that, don’t bother showing up at all because this campaign requires serious dedication from everyone. Okay? Also, if you miss more than two sessions, you’re automatically kicked out of the party. Think you can handle that?”

Scottie posed this question to you with the stern glare of a shrewd businessman. Holy shit, you thought, this is actually happening! And with this realization came a great wave of anxiety. It crashed over you and consumed you, making you bite your lip in hesitation. Then your eyes drifted down to the fortune teller resting on your lap, and you clung to it like a life raft.

Here, I made this one special… just for you.

Oh? Did you write that I’m gonna marry Steve Perry?

That… and something else.

What did you write?

Hey, I’m not telling! You have to find it yourself. And whatever it says, you have to do, okay? No going back. No hesitating. This is my prediction for your summer, and it’s set in stone. Got it?

You picked a number, your lucky number, and carefully unfolded the flap.

Chrissy’s hidden message made you smile.

Then you stole a glance at Eddie and felt your chest swell with a newfound sense of determination. No going back. No hesitating.

“If that’s what it takes, then yeah. Let’s do it.”

Scottie offered you his hand. You gave it a firm, decisive shake.

“Welcome aboard.”

The summer started exactly like Eddie thought it would. You treated the game like it was a joke, spent each session wandering through Scottie’s fictional world like it was one giant amusement park made just for you.

And it was. It truly was.

Scottie had rewritten most of his campaign so that he could indulge your every whim. When he found out your character was a thief who had been betrayed and left for dead by her previous companion (a terribly cliched backstory, but Eddie expected no less from someone as inexperienced as you), Scottie created a brand new adventure out of thin air that forced the entire party into the Forest of No Return in search of your old companion’s secret hideout. Then Scottie inserted himself into the party through an NPC named Balon Blacktree, a “ruggedly handsome” (for some reason, Scottie felt the need to stress this) mercenary who would act as your guide through the dangerous and ever-changing woods.

Scottie sat behind his screen and spoke in a deep, rumbling voice: “You hear a noise overhead—a flutter of wings. Just a bird maybe or, perhaps, something else. You look up but see nothing, only the mangled branches of so many dead trees. The moon, bright and full, hovers just beyond them. It glows with an eerie golden light. It is a witch’s moon.”

You gasped. “A witch’s moon…”

Eddie was sitting across from you, watching you respond to Scottie’s narration like a giddy preschooler at storytime. He smushed his cheek against his fist and huffed. “Jesus Christ, Scottie, can you just skip to the action, please?”

Scottie said, “Hey, I’m painting the scene!”

“Well, paint faster, will ya? It’s been ten minutes already.”

“Shhh!” you hissed, making Eddie’s face turn red with abashment. “You’re ruining my immersion! Go on, Scottie, tell me about the witch’s moon. It means a witch is near, doesn’t it?”

Scottie smirked, all too pleased to have your full attention. “That it does, sweet Elaria, that it does. An old witch, withered and hunched, lives in these woods. She hunts in them, seeking youth and beauty with a ferocious, insatiable hunger. She saw you enter the forest with your companions, and now she means to claim your vitality for her own. You hear her shrieking laughter rolling through the trees: Hee-hee-hee-hee! It’s close. In fact, it’s right behind you. You spin around, stumbling over your own feet, and you see a great crow, the witch’s familiar, perched upon a branch. It looms over you, staring at you with its black eyes, and in them you see your own frightened reflection…”

You collapsed against the backrest of your chair, clutching your chest in distress. “Oh my god, my heart’s beating so fast right now!” Your hands flapped frantically while you considered your next action. “Okay, umm, I back away from the crow slowly, my eyes locked with it in terror, and as I go to take my next step, my foot lands on a twig. It makes a loud snap!”

“The crow takes flight, extending its powerful wings! It lunges at you and slashes at your face with its sharp talons, but it only gets a five to hit.”

You yelped in surprise and threw your hands over your head. Then: “Wait, which dice do I roll again?”

Eddie heaved a frustrated sigh. “D20 for defense rolls. How do you not know this by now?”

Scottie said, “Dude, relax, she’s still learning.” Then he turned to you with a smile. “You roll the D20, sweetie, and don’t forget to add all your modifiers and stat bonuses.”

“Again, she should know this by now.”

“Again, you need to calm the fuck down, Munson. This is her first time playing. Now go ahead, Y/N.”

This went on for days. While the rest of the party was left to fend for themselves with minimal direction from their Dungeon Master, you and Scottie went off on these long and excruciatingly detailed expeditions that ate up chunks and chunks of precious time.

In part, Eddie was glad for this because it kept you distracted and allowed him to focus on the game. He didn’t care that each of your turns took twenty minutes, that you constantly needed the rules explained and re-explained to you before you took any action. He didn’t care that your character never seemed to suffer damage or that she effortlessly avoided every trap she stumbled upon and passed every skill check with ease. He didn’t care that she clung to Balon Blacktree’s side during every battle and acted so impressed when he cut down low-level monsters with one swing of his greatsword. Meanwhile, Eddie’s character was single-handedly bringing down hordes of monsters and summoning demons with his dark magic, but Elaria didn’t bat an eye at that… no, that wasn’t worthy of any kind of recognition.

He didn’t care that you giggled at all of Scottie’s lame jokes, that it was a completely different laugh than the one he always received. It was light and melodic and made your whole face glow with a radiant luster of pure joy.

He didn’t care that it meant Scottie was totally right when he said, Don’t worry, man. One summer with me, and she’ll never look at you again.

No, that didn’t bother Eddie at all.

See, what bothered him, what really got under Eddie’s skin, was that you were always marveling at Scottie and hanging on his every word like he was some master storyteller. Yeah, that did bother him. It bothered him a lot.

One Sunday, while Eddie was packing up his binder and dice and preparing to head home for the night, you surprised him when you came up and said, “Hey, I’m really sorry for… you know, kind of taking over the whole game. I feel like you guys are getting really bored.”

Your smile was deeply apologetic, but also a little shy. It brought an unexpected flush to Eddie’s face.

“Oh, no, that’s… that’s not your fault. Scottie always gets a little carried away when he DMs.”

“Yeah, he really likes the sound of his own voice, doesn’t he?”

You started laughing to yourself—a breathy, beautiful laugh—and Eddie felt the dice pouch slip out of his hand. Plop! It landed somewhere by his feet, but he couldn’t bring himself to pick it back up. Instead, he watched you lean against the table and gaze down at Scottie’s forest map, your face softening with an enchanted expression.

“He’s really talented, though,” you said while tracing your finger over one of Scottie’s hand-painted miniatures. “Like the way he comes up with all these stories and describes every scene so vividly… I feel like I’ve been thrown into a fantasy novel or something.”

Eddie pursed his lips into a hard, thin line. “Yeah, he’s really something, isn’t he?”

You looked up at him, your eyes narrow with skepticism. “You don’t think he’s that good.”

“Huh?” Eddie took a step back, shaking his head. “I - I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to. I know sarcasm when I hear it.” Then you gasped loudly, as if you had just solved some great mystery. “Oh my god, you think Scottie’s a hack, don’t you?”

“What? No, I don’t think he’s a hack, I just…” Eddie glanced toward the open door at the top of the stairs; then, lowering his voice, he continued: “He just tends to fall back on the same tired storylines, that’s all. Like the witch in the woods, and the crow, and saving the fair maiden from becoming a virgin sacrifice… He’s recycled that same adventure like fifteen times. I practically have it memorized by now. And after a while, it makes all his campaigns pretty stale, especially when you’ve been playing them for as long as I have.” He reached out and knocked over the miniature you had been admiring. The figure landed on its side and wobbled for a second or two before going still. “Trust me, Scottie’s no wordsmith. I mean… shit, from what I’ve seen, you could probably write a better campaign than he could.”

“Oh yeah…?” You tilted your head curiously. “Well, what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Could you write a better campaign?”

Your question caught Eddie off guard. He closed his mouth and thought about it for a minute. “Well, I… I mean, yeah, I definitely could. It’s funny you mention that, actually, because I started working on a campaign last year, but I never got around to finishing it.”

“Really?” you said. “Why’s that?”

“Uhh… I dunno, honestly. I guess I just lost inspiration.” Eddie could think of no better way to put it. One day, he simply set down his notebook and never touched it again. “Plus, Scottie doesn’t really let anyone else DM, so there’s basically no point.”

“Well, that’s too bad,” you said. “I’m curious to see what kinda campaign you’d come up with.”

Eddie felt his face get warm. What kinda campaign would you like? he almost asked, but the question got stuck in his throat.

You got up and reached for your backpack. “Anyway,” you went on with a nervous flutter, “there’s a second reason I wanted to talk to you. Actually, it’s the main reason I wanted to talk to you, so… here.”

You handed him a piece of paper. Eddie looked it over, front and back.

“It’s a character sheet,” he said. “You working on a new character or something?”

“No, it’s for you. See?” You poked the top of the page with your index finger. “It’s for your demon master—you know, the one that your character made an unholy pact with? The source of all your dark power? I made a character sheet for him… or it. Do demons even have genders?”

Eddie kept staring at the paper, feeling both elated and overwhelmed by its existence. “Uh, I dunno, but… Wait, what is this for, exactly?”

“Well, last night I was reading The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde because I’ve been on this really weird Gothic literature kick lately—you know, like Frankenstein, The Turn of the Screw, Dracula and, naturally, just about anything by Poe. Anyway, so while I was reading, I started thinking about your character”

Eddie’s heart jogged. You were thinking about my character?

“and the demon he made a pact with, and I thought it’d be kinda cool if there was a chance your character could get possessed by that demon for a little while, and he like becomes evil and tries to kill us or something. Then I got weirdly inspired at two in the morning—don’t ask why I was still up at two in the morning—and I made this!” You put your hands on your hips and beamed at him. “So, what do you think?”

Eddie rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I…” He didn’t know what to say. Eddie had never given much thought to the demon featured in his character’s backstory, yet in one night you had managed to produce a fully customized character sheet for the creature. It was absolutely…

“… stupid, isn’t it?”

(You think my story’s stupid?)

Eddie lowered the paper and looked at you. Your once-brilliant smile had collapsed into a dismal, disheartened frown that seemed… strangely familiar. It brought a pang to Eddie’s chest.

“You think it’s really stupid, huh?” you said while playing with the frayed hem of your sweater sleeve. “Right… Well, in my defense, I was really sleep deprived when I wrote that. Also, when I get an idea, I sometimes tend to obsess over it, you know? Like I go deep down that rabbit hole like Alice in Wonderland and I do some crazy shit, like writing an extensive and thoroughly researched biography for a character that isn’t even mine.” You opened your mouth to laugh, but nothing came out. “Wow, that sounds even more insane when I say it out loud! You know what, I’ll just take that back and, uh, burn it…”

You reached for the paper. Eddie pulled it away.

“You talk a lot,” he said. “Anyone ever tell you that?”

You shook your head. “No… quite the opposite, actually. Most people think I’m really shy.”

“Really?” said Eddie. “See, I never got that impression from you.”

A flush of modesty tinged your face. You looked down at your sneakers and responded in a quiet, bashful voice: “Well, that’s… because you’re weird.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, smiling at you for the first time in his life. He was surprised by how naturally it came to him. “Yeah, that’s probably why.”

His smile grew. “First of all, don’t ever call your ideas stupid, okay? ‘Cause they aren’t. Second, this is really great. Thank you for taking the time to make this for me. It’s actually very impressive.”

That made you stand a little taller, a little prouder. You pointed at the page. “See, I even drew a little portrait…”

“Yeah, I saw that,” Eddie said, amused. “You’re a terrible artist.”

For that, you gave him a half-hearted shove, giggling as you did. Eddie laughed along with you… until Scott Sloman appeared at the top of the stairs with a VHS tape in his hand.

“Hey,” he said to you, “you wanna watch some Monty Python?”

Your whole face scrunched up with discomfort. “Uh, no… I really should be getting home.” You slung your backpack over your shoulder and turned to leave. To Eddie, you said, “I’ll, umm, see you Friday?”

“Yeah… See ya.” A smile tugged at his mouth as he watched you go. Then, when you were halfway up the stairs, he said, “Get some sleep, okay?” and you gave him a look that made his stomach flip.

“Right,” you said, catching your bottom lip between your teeth. “Yeah, I’ll try…”

Scottie, blissfully unaware, fluttered a flirtatious farewell as you passed. “Bye-bye now,” he drawled, and once you were gone, he leaned against the doorframe and breathed a dreamy sigh. “Such a delicate flower… Don’t you love it when girls play hard to get?”

“Not nearly as much as you do,” Eddie said while studying the character sheet you made him. One section in particular had him chuckling. Favorite food: the souls of his victims? Eddie imagined you lying on your bed, half asleep and drooling, as you scrawled away with your pen, and that made this line even funnier. He pushed his face into the paper and snickered.

“What’s that you got?” Scottie asked, peering over Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie pressed the paper flat against his chest. “Hmm? Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just a character sheet.”

(So why did he feel the need to hide it?)

“Oh?” Scottie said, sounding only mildly interested. “Are you developing a new character for the campaign? Finally retiring that angsty wizard you love so much?”

“He’s not a wizard, he’s a warlock,” Eddie said. “And, uhh… no, this is just something Y/N made.”

“Y/N made it? For you?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

And that’s when Scottie took a huge step back, his lips curling into a Cheshire Cat grin. “Oh boy,” he said, as his eyes sparked to life with devilish glee. “Well, there it is.”

“There what is?”

“You were wondering why she suddenly wanted to join our campaign, right?” Scottie motioned toward the paper. “Well, there’s your answer, pal. The kid’s got a little crush on you, Munson. Congrats, man, you finally caught one!”

Laughing, Scottie mashed his palm into Eddie’s short crop of brown hair. Eddie knocked him away.

“Yeah, okay, very funny…”

“You don’t believe me? Okay, let’s recap, shall we? Uhh, she’s always around.”

“Like a harbinger of misfortune.”

“She’s always giggling at you.”

“Snickering. Cackling.”

“She, completely out of nowhere, decides she wants to spend her summer in a stuffy basement with us losers instead of hanging out at the pool with all her friends.”

“I have a theory about that, actually.”

“Yeah, and I bet it’s as dumb as all your other bullshit theories.” Scottie put his hand on Eddie’s shoulder and said, “Dude, the girl created a character for you. That means she was thinking about you. In our world, that’s practically a love letter.”

Eddie felt his chest tighten at those words. Scottie frowned and worked up some fake tears. “Awww, she’s gonna be so heartbroken when you leave… Let her down gently, will ya, Munson? They’re so fragile at that age.”

“Dude, shut up!” Eddie said, and pushed Scottie’s hand away. “She doesn’t like me, okay? Can we please drop it now?”

“Hey, I’m just as mystified by this as you are, but facts are facts.”

“I mean, why would she even like me?”

“Well, it’s definitely not because of your dazzling personality,” Scottie quipped, earning a glare from his best friend. “Look, I dunno, maybe she’s got a thing for socially awkward guitarists with daddy issues. Who cares? It’s a fricken twelve-year-old! Stick that tiny feather in your cap and move on. We’re going to high school, man. The big leagues!”

“You’ve seen who she hangs out with, right?”

Scottie’s jaw dropped. “Why are we still talking about this? That’s middle school shit, man. We’re past all that now.”

“All the cheerleaders, all the jocks, Jason Carver…”

“And what, you think she’s a spy or something? You think Jason Carver sent her here to learn all our nerdy secrets? Listen to me, man: the popular kids don’t give a shit how we spend our summer vacation, okay? We’re just a passing amusement to them, dude, a way to kill time while they wait for school to end. As soon as they walk out those doors, we no longer exist to them, so stop giving them so much of your attention.”

Eddie went quiet, letting those words sink in for a minute. Then he took a deep breath through his nose and said with absolute confidence, “She doesn’t like me.”

“Oh my god, again with this…” Scottie put his head between his hands and squeezed. “Okay, fine! You’re right, Munson, she doesn’t like you. In fact, nobody likes you. Why would they? You’re a major downer, a single grey storm cloud in an otherwise sunny sky. There, you happy now?”

“Yes,” Eddie said, “thank you.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Scottie said, and made a dismissive motion with his hand. “Now, do you wanna watch Monty Python with me or not?”

Eddie cracked a smirk. “No, I gotta get home.”

He picked up his dice pouch and tossed it into the open pocket of his backpack. Then he carefully tucked the character sheet into his binder, admiring it for a second before putting it away. On his way out, he said to Scottie, “Oh, by the way, I think I’m gonna try something new with my character at the next session.”

Scottie stood at the bottom of the stairs, blinking in disbelief. “You, Eddie Munson, wanna try something new?”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, feeling inspired. “Yeah, I do.”

And that’s when everything changed. Not suddenly, but gradually, naturally, as naturally as the winter snow melts in the spring, as night fades and turns to day.

No longer was Eddie Munson the one who took the game way too seriously, the one who stuck firmly to the rules and shut down anyone’s attempt to deviate from them, the one who never so much as cracked a smile because that would betray the very essence of his dark and brooding character… Yeah, that guy was long gone, lying at the bottom of the trash bin along with Eddie’s old crumpled-up campaign, and Eddie had no intention of ever digging him out again.

For the first time in a long time, Eddie was excited about what the future had in store for him. Every day felt like a brand new adventure, full of twists and turns that had him smiling, laughing, gasping, and (sometimes) screaming.

On Thursday nights, he would barely be able to sleep because he was so eager to wake up the next morning and rush to Scottie’s house…

to that basement…

where you were sitting, waiting for him.

Eddie rested his head on his palm while he watched you update your adventure journal, something you did during every break like it was a homework assignment. The rest of the guys were eating pizza in the kitchen. You and Eddie were supposed to join them a while ago, but neither of you were in a hurry to head upstairs.

Your lips curled into a smile when you caught Eddie staring at you. “What?” you whispered, as if you weren’t the only two in the room.

“Nothing,” he said. “I’m just wondering what you write about in that thing.”

“In this?”

“Yes, in that. I’ve never seen anyone keep such a detailed log.”

“Oh,” you said. “Is that weird?”

“No, not really. I just never took you for a diary keeper, that’s all.”

Your nose wrinkled adorably. “Yeah, I’m not. Or not usually, anyway. I’m just trying to keep a record of everything: all the quests my character’s completed, all the people she’s met, funny things she’s witnessed…” Your face darkened all of a sudden, and when you spoke again your voice was small and tight, as if you were struggling to hold something in. “I just don’t wanna forget all this once the campaign’s over, you know?”

Eddie smirked, thinking he understood. “Well, at the rate we’re going, I don’t think we’ll ever finish this campaign.”

Honestly, he hoped you never did.

“So,” he went on casually, “have you written anything about me?”

“Eh, a little… maybe like one page.”

“One page?”

“Well, the back of one page.”

“The back of one page? I don’t even get a full page? Wow, I really need to step up my game, huh? Clearly, my performance isn’t cutting it for you.”

“Yeah, it really isn’t.” Your smile was teasing but so, so sweet. “You’re not fully committed to your character, Munson. I just don’t feel it, you know? I need more. I need you to completely let yourself go, okay? I wanna see you jumping on chairs, running around, getting in people’s faces…”

“So, basically, you want me to make an ass of myself.”

“Oh yes. Always.” You tossed your head to the side and giggled. “I wanna see you totally unhinged, Munson. When you get possessed, I need you to go full Linda Blair with that shit. I wanna see some head-spinning, projectile-vomiting… I could do without the crucifix thing, though, because that would be a touch too explicit for your general audience.”

Eddie said, “Yeah, I don’t know what any of that means.”

“Linda Blair? The Exorcist?”

“Never seen it.”

“Seriously, you’ve never seen The Exorcist? The greatest horror movie of all time? Well, you know, apart from Night of the Living Dead, but that’s just my personal preference. I love George A. Romero.”

Eddie shrugged. “Yeah, I don’t really like horror movies.”

“Really?” You sounded genuinely shocked, and a little disappointed. “But you’re so Halloween-themed.”

“Halloween-themed?” Eddie grimaced. “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, it’s not an insult or anything… In fact, Halloween just happens to be my favorite holiday.” You nudged Eddie with your elbow, and he pulled away. That made you go quiet for a second, sulking like a child who just got scolded for something they didn’t know was wrong. “It’s just, I dunno, you’ve got this whole Prince of Darkness vibe going on. Naturally, I always assumed—”

“I’m Eddie Munster,” Eddie said with a sneer, “so I must be obsessed with horror movies, right?”

“Hey, don’t put words in my mouth, okay? I didn’t say that. And just for the record, I’ve never bought into the whole ‘Eddie Munster’ thing, anyway. It’s a lazy joke, and it doesn’t even make that much sense. You don’t look a thing like Eddie Munster. He’s got that crazy widow’s peak and he’s a werewolf, which always kinda confused me, if I’m being honest. Like, his mom is Dracula’s daughter and his dad is one of Frankenstein’s monsters… How do genetics even work in that universe? Like, is his mom also part werewolf? Is lycanthropy a recessive gene? These are the kinda questions that keep me up at night.”

You were going off on another tangent. Eddie patiently waited for you to find your way back; and once you did, your eyes went straight to him.

“My point is, Eddie Munster’s a very stupid nickname. Whoever thought that one up is seriously lacking brain cells.”

The corner of your mouth rose into a half-humorous smile, causing Eddie’s stony gaze to soften and glow with adoration. He sat there for a while, spellbound and speechless, and when his voice finally returned, it blurted out a question that startled you both.

“Why are you here?” he asked, and you drew back a little, your brows knitted together in confusion.

“You’re… popular,” he went on, “and you play volleyball and—”

“So because I play volleyball, I’m automatically a jock or something?” You scoffed at that, your mouth hanging open in wry amusement. “I’m on the gold team, Eddie, the worst team. We’re basically a bunch of rejects that would’ve gotten cut if there had been actual tryouts. My parents thought it’d be good for me to join a sport, so I picked volleyball because… why not? And it’s kinda fun, I guess. We almost beat the white team once. It was almost this huge upset.”

“Wow,” Eddie said, “I’m almost impressed,” and that made you laugh for a minute, but only for a minute.

“I’m not popular,” you said, “not even a little. My best friend, Chris, she’s the popular one. She’s the one everyone wants, and I’m just her carry-on luggage. And yeah, I guess that gets me a seat at the lunch table, but that doesn’t exactly make me part of the club. Her friends aren’t my friends. They hardly even talk to me. Chris could drop me tomorrow if she wanted, and then I’d be eating lunch alone.” You winced a little as you said this, then hung your head and sighed. “I’m not popular, Munson, but it’s very flattering you think I am… I mean, at least I have somebody fooled, right?”

You picked up your pencil and flipped to a new page. The resulting silence made Eddie’s chest hurt.

“You wouldn’t have to eat alone,” he said, and saw your hand pause in mid-stroke. “There’s always an open seat for you at our table.”

A faint, melancholy smile touched your lips. “Yeah, but you won’t be there.”

Eddie drew in a quiet breath. As he looked at you now, you seemed so far away.

“Oh, right,” he said. “Yeah, I almost forgot.”

Now all of Scottie’s jokes made a little more sense. (Let her down gently, will ya, Munson?) Now all of your diligent note-taking made a little more sense. For the longest time, Eddie thought you were just being overly sentimental about your first campaign, but that wasn’t it at all, was it? No, you were preparing for the end. Immortalizing your last campaign.

The last campaign you two would ever play together.

“You should go eat,” you said to him in a stuffy voice. “I’ll be up in a little bit.”

It’s amazing, the amount of clarity that comes with heartbreak. This dawned on Eddie Munson now, as he sat alone on the dirty floor of the women’s restroom. Here I am once again, getting ready to move on to the next stage of my life, and all I can think about is how badly I wanna stay with you.

Eddie’s hands closed around the bundled fabric of his jacket. It smelled a little like you now.

I shouldn’t have walked up those stairs. I should’ve stayed down there with you and told you to fuck off when you tried to force me to leave. I should’ve told you that you had nothing to worry about. That I wasn’t gonna forget about you once I went to high school. I should’ve told you a lot of things that day, but I didn’t. You told me to leave, and I left. I walked up those stairs and I ate that cold, shitty pizza while you sat down there all alone… probably crying your eyes out. I was fourteen and an idiot. I’m still an idiot, but at least I have the balls to admit I like you now.

And if you think I’m not about to get up and go running after you… well, then you’re an even bigger idiot than I am.

_____________________

PREV // CURRENT // NEXT

#eddie munson #stranger things #fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #chrissy cunningham #jason carver #chrissy x jason #i know nothing about D&D #stranger things 4 #st4 #ambrossart #dancing with myself #dwm #fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

glitterypin · 3 months

Text

tagged by bestie @snugsunresplendence (sorry to arrive so late to the party but work has been an absolute whore)

1) were you named after anyone?

I grew up knowing I was named after one of my father's aunts (whom I loved very much as a kid - she died when I was 12). A lot later I found out that my grandmother wasn't my mother's biological mother and that my mother's biological mother also shared the same name, so there was some intent there, as well.

2) when was the last time you cried?

I teared up a bit after therapy today but the last proper cry with full sobs and snot was Saturday after work byecause work lately has been an absolute WHORE.

3) do you have kids?

No and I don't want them.

4) what sports do you/have you played?

I played volleyball when I was a kid. I'm not at all sporty and I'm also super fat and out of shape that even though I wish I could run or hike, my body just can't.

5) do you use sarcasm?

Quite a lot, since I was very young. Not in a cruel way anymore, though. Like, I'll be sarcastic like "such lovely weather we're having!" when the weather is very obviously shitty.

6) what's the first thing you notice about people?

I don't even know. The look on their faces, probably.

7) what's your eye color

Dark brown.

8) scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings, I don't believe in recreational fear.

9) any talents?

I'm very smart, good with words and I have a good instinct for narrative structure. Sadly, I am wasting all of this in discussing other people's writings instead of writing my own things, because I counterbalance my talents with an unhealthy level of laziness.

10) where were you born?

A hospital in Athens, Greece.

11) what are your hobbies?

I like watching films, reading, writing (small things, nothing that requires any level of effort or commitment), baking and also doing absolutely nothing, sometimes accompanied by music.

12) do you have any pets?

No. I'd like a cat but I don't feel ready for the responsibility of taking care of a living thing, yet. I got a pot of basil a few months ago and right now it's a pot of soil with two brown sticks sticking out that I still water every few days, pretending that it's just a phase and that I haven't actually killed the very dead thing.

13) how tall are you?

166cm, I think

14) favorite subject in school?

Chemistry, probably. I'm sure it wasn't the same every year but I was a lot into chemistry for a long time, I remember as much.

15) dream job

Well, screenwriter, I guess. Except I'd also need my dream personality to go with this dream job because the way I am now I just can't.

tagging! @gothic-goon @yourfluffiestnightmare @ivankaramazov07 @santacoppelia @lavend3r-mo0n

69 notes · View notes

blucassiopeia · 10 months

Text

Dangerous

"A prelude spin-off for an upcoming fic"

warnings: afab!reader, angst with comfort but not the one you expect, bit of NSFW but nothing explicit still, be responsible of what you're reading, mentions of pregnancy, 8.3k LONG, spanish and portuguese languages (translated)

An Oikawa Tooru x reader one shot

a/n: uhmm, more clues? be wary of the details?

A new country is scary for Oikawa Tooru. Yeah, sure, this is one step closer to his dream but he has left a ginormous part of him back in Japan. His life is there. She is there. She, whom he left for his dream so hastily, a dream he chose and will always choose over anything and anyone. And he's guilty.

But she smiled and let me go, he thought as he stared into the ceiling of his new room of 2 days. He figured he wasn't much as important as someone else that it was easy for her to agree on this. Why wouldn't she? Who was he to her to hold onto anyway?

She'll be fine without me. I'm gonna be fine. Everything will be fine.

Tooru continuously convinced himself as he sorted out the last boxes onto his apartment. It's still dusty, he decided to clean up after moving his things to their places. He declined Coach Blanco's help on this, don't wanna bother him more than his bothersome favor of letting him join the Argentinean League even though he's still processing his citizenship.

He met the team he'll be playing the day before, figured they were nice and was excited about a Japanese setter on their team, a fresh talent for the upcoming league. And Ushijima Wakatoshi and Kageyama Tobio aren't here, how extravagant.

The neighborhood was nice, the people more so. It's lovely and lively, even at nights. The culture was shocking but it's to be expected. Though, he'd still prefer Miyagi's countryside air over this bustling city life in the other side of the world. His heart was there. Homesickness still hasn't settled in hard, but it will be after a punch so hard it'll wake him up for what he had left but can't go back to.

"Someone's waiting for you across your street. At a bistro of sorts? I don't know but you'll know when you see them, Kawa."

It was a week after he moved to Argentina, and here is Hajime calling him. He thought his bestfriend will be checking up on him like his first day here, he unconsciously pouted out of habit.

"Who is it?"

"Just go and face them, you shitty mess."

Dejectively, he said "I'm not shitty, Iwa-chan.", pulling out his sweatpants and sweater ready for a chilly night outside.

He wondered who was it that's waiting for him. He has wild guesses, first was of course, Hajime. And, or maybe Issei and Maki. Or maybeー

His lazy paces turned excited as he thought of her waiting for him somewhere near, somewhere he can finally reach. Did she made up her mind on the offer? But what about her life in Japan? But, is she really here? That can be possible right?

The lights were dancing on Tooru's face as he ran from bistro to bistro in his street to find her, thrill showing in his face. He didn't even notice he was grinning already, a sincere grin he didn't flash publicly for over three weeks. He was expecting to see her.

He felt his knuckles tighten as he saw them though, one smirking, standing up, and one just lounging, seriously staring back at him. He shouldn't have expected for her, he should've expected for the worst, this worst. His grin turned devilish, the usual one he flashes when he's agitated over a play, the one he erased from his face whenever he's with her.

And you saw that face shift of Tooru's, frame by frame.

You knew him. Who wouldn't? Except for the fact that he's your neighbor next door, he's the only new blood around the area and the single ladies working for your family's bistro are instantly swooning over this new foreign specimen. Messy chocolate brown hair with chocolate brown eyes to match, that panty-dropping smile and voice, his outgoing personalityーto which you're not comfortable with, you don't know whyーand his skills for volleyball. You saw him once early morning at an outdoor volleyball court just off the block and figured he might be joining the province's volleyball league club so soon.

And this face shift now was new to you, evident too for having some of the ladies having eyes on this particular scene.

The two guys that ordered nothing but a tall glass of iced tea and fries has been at the same spot in the bistro for roughly three hours, speaking in a foreign language you know is Japanese, considering you heard Tooru once talking over the phone. You assumed that they're here for him, and you were right. But not this kind of right. You slowly detached yourself from behind the counter, taking off your apron.

And Tooru has just his eyes on the man standing and smirking at him. It has been over a year since Tooru last saw him, after he made an honest mistakeーwell, it's not really this man's mistake but Tooru thinks he had been toying with her feelings, one he really disliked of him up to this day. And of how the way the man is smirking at him right now, Tooru knows it's his turn to be misunderstood.

"It's been a while, man. 'Sup?" Tooru said so casually, walking up to their table at the side of the bistro.

The man scratched his brows and looked down, but Tooru knows he's seething. He smirked before hearing a "Yeah, it's been a while Tooru."

And Tooru felt it in his cheek, on his hip clashing to one of the empty table beside him, hard. This man has been playing volleyball for as long as him, it's not to doubt that he can throw a punch this hard too as much as he could spike, he can taste something metallic inside his cheeks, a sting on his lip. But Tooru just scoffed and grinned as usual, retaining his balance and stood face to face with him, dangerously close.

"HEY!"

If Tooru heard you, he didn't react, raging eyes focused on the man infront of him. But the other man seated between them turned his head to you, gray eyes dead contrasting the boyish grin he flashed and said, "Sorry. This is how we greet each other in our place. Don't call the cops. They will talk with each other nowー" and he turned to the two with a cold voice, "ーin a civilized manner, right?"

The man who punched Tooru groaned at what the gray-eyed man said and heeded, sat, pointed the seat in front of him, gesturing Tooru to sit there. That was when Tooru caught your eyes, deadpan and emotionless. He sighed, wiping blood off his mouth, seethed at the sting off his lip and sat down in front of his two visitors.

You walked back to your kitchen and got ice cubes, almost on instinct on your part. You came back out to their table with a glass of water and the ice cubes.

"Estás bien, Tooru?" But Tooru just shot his brows up without looking up and ran his fingers on the cold feeling of the compression sack of ice cubes.

Tooru's mind was hazy from the avalanche of presence in front of him and for the possible reasons why they are here, why they spared time and money to just deliver a punch from across the globe. He felt your eyes linger a bit more before sighing and leave. One thing was clear in his mind that moment, though. He wished someone to drag him out of that place.

"Why are you both here?"

"To ask you why THE FUCK d'you leave her like that."

He expected that question, and he knew the answer too well. It's just dumb to ask that to him, and the one who asked is just too dumb to ask without knowing himself that he's the answer. Tooru can't help but smirk. The slight scrunch on his lips sent miniscule shots of pain from the punch earlier.

Tooru can't believe they travelled to where he is just to ask that, personally. Well, maybe it was the punch that motivated them. And Tooru needed that, too, given what he had left.

"Can't believe you picked volleyball over her! AND you promised me! YOU PROMISED ME TOORU! FUCK!" Together with the raise of his voice, the table wobbled at his smacks on it, earning a groan from the other next to him, reflexively lifting the glasses of iced teas off the table in time.

"Hey! Not the iced teas! I'm gonna kick you!"

Tooru dead-stared at the man glaring at him and he flashed his evil grin at him, super annoyed of his cluelessness of the situation.

"You think if I picked her, she'll also pick me? No. She'll still pick you over anyone else." He stopped grinning, still dead staring, his following words are on a lower octave, menacing. "And you fucking know that."

"I love her and fuck, I want her to be happy even if you can't believe it. And if she's gonna be happy with you, thenー" Tooru spread his arms wide, his expression changing to melancholic. "ーI'm gonna welcome that fact with open arms."

The other man scoffed at his seat, still eating the fries he ordered. "You don't destroy the people you love, Tooru." The other man side-eyed the man beside him. "That goes for you, too."

"But you promised me." It was a mumble now, taking Tooru back 4 months ago when this man in front of him purposely meet and talked with him about Ran. "You promised to be with her until I come back."

"Not all people can take it. If this person right here with you can take it, I can't. There's just so much pain I can take if it's her."

"She's pregnant."

Tooru's eyes were slow to meet the man's eyes, his expression looked like he got pulled down a few meters more than it sank before. It was for a moment, but you saw it from the counter. Your eyes flickered curiosity and worry.

Tooru smiled sincerely to the men's surprise. "Then, go home. Be with her. She needs you. And congratulations.. on being a dad."

The man who Tooru declared a dad suddenly stood up, knocking his chair back, grabbed Tooru's collar with him and close to him, stared into his sad eyes. The man beside them groaned, but not at the collar-grabbing scene now but on what Tooru said.

"Fuck. You." The man sincerely spouted those words to Tooru's now smirking face. "FUCK YOU!"

But Tooru ignored him and turned to the man who's drinking his glass of iced tea from the tension. "'Samu, don't waste time. He had already wasted so much of it. Drag him back to Ran."

And he thankfully got a nice response as Osamu stood up and slap the man's hands off of Tooru's collar, "Let's go back to Japan."

"OSAMUー"

"I KNOW! I FUCKING KNOW! BUT I HAVE ALREADY TOLERATED YOU TOO FUCKING LONG! NOW DROP TOORU OFF!" Osamu breathed heavy, staring back at the still-aggravated man. The tension of the bistro has risen up and the dining locals are all-eyes to the scene in front of them. "Please. I don't want Ran to kill me if you get jailed from across the world. C'mon. You heard from Tooru already."

The man dropped Tooru's collar that slumped Tooru back to his seat as his knees buckled for some reason he clearly knew. He just stared straight ahead, off nowhere, muffled conversations he can't make up but he heard the man clearly said before leaving.

"Stay away from Ran. You left her, right? Then stay there and watch as I make her the happiest woman alive."

Those words crumbled his world, made him double guess his choice. He was so sure of this when he told Ran, even invited her to go with him even if he knew it's a shot to the moon. He was so sure because this is his life-long dream. But now..

You saw him still staring blankly to open space, not moving. Your ladies have sympathetic looks for him and asking if he's ever okay, can't they see that he isn't?

You were about to approach him after a good 30 minutes of no-nothing from Tooru when he suddenly stood up, "Lo siento por eso, Y/n." and went straight out of the bistro looking so sullen, without even looking at you, or anyone.

And that was just the start of your weird attraction to him.

You found yourself knocking on his door one early night off from the bistro, with a container full of pasta to share to him. You already distributed the good half of what's left to your other neighbors and you purposely left him last, coz maybe you'd want to check up on him too.

It has been a week since his encounter in the bistro, a week since you noticed him ever going out of his apartment. Your mama was quite worried for the young man after you told her what happened, urging you to talk to him being the only one around his age in the apartment building.

And alas! You're here. You fidgeted with your toes curling and relaxing, tapping the pads against your rubbery surface of your slippers. Why's he not answering? He not dead, right? He better not be. You knocked again, three loud knocks just to be sure.

You were about to do a set of knocks again when the door swung open, revealing a topless Tooru, emotionless eyes drooping and bloodshot, hair all over the place, his sweatpants hang low on his hips revealing the garter part of his boxers underneath. You revel in the way he stared at you as he leans on his door jamb, waiting for you to say something. That was when you realize that you're already rudely staring.

He cocked a brow that elicited your voice. "Pasta?"

He hummed and opened the door wider, an invitation for you to come in his apartment, and you took a step in. Later on, you'd regret ever stepping into his life too.

Your eyes swept through his place. It's messy, like he threw things all over the place. A broken picture frame with glasses all over them, a broken drinking glass too just off the counter, the mirror off the corner is cracked in the middle with blood in it, throw pillows scattered in his sala, and a picture frame on the carpet near the couch.

Glass plates clanked at one another as Tooru got one for the pasta and you noticed his knuckle that got dried blood on it as he placed the plate in front of you on the table. It was silent, except for the water dripping from his kitchen sink and of his hoarse breathing.

"Close the door when you leave. Gracias."

That was out from his cold voice, uncharacteristic from the outgoing Tooru that you knew. Your eyes trained at him as he lazily walked back to his couch and sprawled like nothing happened, fingers caressing the picture frame below.

You took a deep breath as you transferred the pasta to his plate and slid it inside his fridge. You took more deep breaths as you searched for his broom and fixed the mess around his apartment. He didn't utter a word, might've not heard of you as he has his eyes closed, a tear pending on the side of his eye. Asleep? That fast?

Your lips formed a thin line as you pursed them, padding quietly close to him to watch his chest heave as he breathes. Your eyes travelled to his arm draping down the couch and to his fingers touching the glass of the picture frameーof a beaming golden haired girl with him, also beaming and ruffling the girl's hair.

You bend over to pick it up, a hand reaching over the frame, but your soul flew out of your body when suddenly, Tooru's hand gripped your wrist so hard you winced. Your head whipped to the fully-awake Tooru, burning eyes on you. Your soul wanted to flee right then and there but you were frozen, enthralled by the hidden emotion on that raging brown eyes.

"I'm sure it's not in your culture to touch the things you don't own without the owner's consent." The grip on your wrist tighten more when you didn't answer seconds later.

"Lo siento, Tooru. Just wanna fix your apartment for you."

Tooru just hummed and picked the frame with the hand he used to grip your wrist, hugged it against his bare chest, back to closing his eyes. "Gracias. Close the door."

Rubbing the sting on your wrist, you made way for his door yet your hand lingered on the knob. You sighed, head craning up, contemplating if you should say it or not, or how would he respond or not, but there's nothing wrong in asking it right?

"Tooruー" Yep, you can't. "ーMama's having a welcome party for you on the weekend."

Tooru just hummed and a silence so deafening followed. Your eyes flew to the faucet of his kitchen sink and glared at it for being so traitorous.

"You come over, 'kay? You can bring anyone, e-even your team."

Silence again. You bit your lip and sighed. Okay, that's it for now, Y/n. That's it for now.

And you were glad you did ask him that night because when Saturday night came, he did show up with his team, Club Atletico San Juan. What you didn't expect was his composure. Tooru's back to being outgoing and has a friendly aura around him, he even smiled at you and your parents, thanking you for the party.

You were left confused all night, stealing glances on him as he laughs and converse with his team and some of the locals. He even caught you once, but he just smiled and raised his beer mug, and went back talking.

Now you know why you're uncomfortable with this kind of personality of Tooru's. You have already seen the surface of his other side.

You were deemed observant even before Tooru appeared, and this right here was spot on. You scrunched your nose and shook your head, shaking the thoughts off your mind. You knew you shouldn't be attached to this kind of man. He's dangerousーbut interesting. You caught yourself groaning, you wanna dump your head straight to a bucket of cold water.

"Y/n, Tooru's table."

Your mama pushed a tray with two buckets of beers and you heaved it up to take it to Tooru's table. He saw you coming and stood up to help you. You smiled at him and offered your gratitude but he surprised you when he held your hand and guided you to seatーon his lap. Jeers erupted the table,and of the place.

"You don't mind, Señor? Señora?"

He called out to your parents, your eyes flickering to your mama in the counter and papa just off a few tables, drinking with his pals, both just shook their heads in approval, tolerant to the newcomer. You attempted to stand up but he snaked an arm around your waist to ground you. His stern eyes flickered to you for a second before beaming his usual smile.

He handed a bottle to you, "Drink?" The smell of alcohol wafted across your face from Tooru's mouth. You stared at his now dancing chocolate eyes, red shade on his neck and cheeks up to his ears. You thought he's drunk already, how much did he drink anyway?

You sighed and took the bottle he offered, drank from it. You felt weird being this close with a stranger. Well, not totally a stranger, you had known him for roughly two weeks now. But stillー

You took notice of how his hand was caressing your thighs as he talks with his team as the night went on with you still on his lap, his hand on your waist creating gentle strokes that made your head fuzzy, added the alcohol in your system. That's when you decided to stop drinking. And Tooru took notice of that. He leaned back on his chair and guided your head to lean on his shoulder.

Shutting your eyes won't do the trick, you still felt eyes staring at you as you let him do what he wants. Fuck tolerance. Fuck.

"You're not comfortable?" He mumbled low, enough that you're the only one to hear. You sneered at him.

"Is this a payback for what I did in your apartment?"

"Not quite, cariño." You instantly blushed at the unexpected endearment, stomping at his feet to which he grinned momentarily and sighed thereafter, "Stay here with me for a while, por favor."

And you didn't know how the tone of his voice enchanted you to agreeing on staying at his lap, found yourself nuzzling on his neck a moment later to which he sighed and caressed your hair as he felt your breath on his neck. And you should find a right answer to the flooding questions from people later on. Right now, his proximity first. He needs you, and you understand him somehow. The questions can wait.

"Her name is Ran, Y/n."

Tooru slurred as he rolled over his bed after being dropped by his teammates back to his apartment. You got a warm towel at hand, done with wiping his body off of sweat and alcohol, fresh clothes that his teammates change him into. He's facing you right now, enjoying in the way your hands ran through his brown locks.

"She'sーI love her, so much. But the man you saw punched me? That was his boyfriend." He closed his eyes and smiled, tears were rolling down to his pillowcase and you looked at him solemnly.

"They're complicated, and I got in the way and now, got swooped out of the pictureー" He heaved a hard sigh, you taking notice of the toll it cost on Tooru. "ーlike how it was meant to be all along. I knew it would happen. I knew it will, butー" He opened his eyes, stared straight, not meeting your eyes, "��I never knew it'll hurt this much. This is what I get from getting in between."

You cupped his face. "But, 'ñorito, there's nothing wrong with loving her. I think you're brave to still express your feelings even if she loves someone else."

"You don't destroy the people you love."

That line got stuck with you as the days went by.

Tooru got moving again, taking jogs so early in the morning you see him go as you're drinking your cup of coffee, blanket around you in your little balcony facing the street. And he got more friendly, the little kids try to imitate him but Tooru's pace is just much for them. And the ladies, oh the ladies, you can't help but palm your face and grin as he winks at them as he passes by, making the ladies squeal and giggle so early in the morning.

"He's drunk, and I was dizzy. That's all."

You have repeated that monotonous answer to all who asked about that Saturday night with Tooru. It was exhausting but still thankful that Tooru lets you answer the way you wantedーwell, there's nothing to change, it is what it is.

But your mama knew better.

"It's okay to get attracted, I'll understand, but guard your heart hija, mi amor."

You took deep breaths as you were assigned to bring Tooru's dinner to his table. He does this every night if he finish practice early. He takes dinner in the bistro in just a white shirt and gym shorts. But why does he looks more good like this? Is it the dried sweat lingering in his hairline? Or the way his face towel hangs on his shoulder? Or just his glittering chocolate orbs dancing to the bistro lights?

"Gracias."

You were about to turn back to the counter, wiping your hands on your apron as you intended to go. But you were pulled back by your elbow, hearing a squeal from your kitchen. Oh great. You smiled at the owner of the hand that's also beaming at you and offering half of his clubhouse sandwich.

"Eat with me?"

And it's always like this, him, inviting you to random activities like this. Eating dinner with him, dragging you to jog with him early in the morning, dragging you to his practice if you're off in the bistro, begging you to teach him how to cook Argentinean cuisines, stroll with him in the park when it's his turn for a dayoff, movie nights, movie nights, movie nights.

You don't know if it's sympathy for him being alone in a foreign country, heartbroken and still mending, while reaching for his goals or it's just yourself, fully attracted to him. You don't even know when and how did it started, you just find yourself one morning thinking what will he do to get your attention, or what favors will he be asking again. He eased in your life so easily with progressing favors and it's still barely a month.

"Mama! Borrowing Y/n for tonight!"

It just took a month to arrive to this night, the night that will change everything in you. You kept asking how the hell were you so easy to get for Tooru but it took the others over a year to get you. Thoughts swarming your head as he stared at you, him having laid his head on your lap looking up at you after you said something like, "Someone out there likes you Tooru, you're enjoyable to be with, no dull moments. You're hella attractive, take a hint from the ladies on the streets as you jog by. You might have some red flags but I believe you can work with that. AndーTooru, you're boyfriend material."

He got up, had his back against your thigh, a hand on the couch on your back caging you, and even if you're both seated, he's still looking slightly down at you. And he's dangerously close, you can't deny if he'll ever say he can hear your heart pound harder.

"Can I kiss you for that?"

You can feel the enchantment in his voice again, with an intense stare to match. You have to pause and think for a second. He's in a heartbroken state, and can easily be swayed with sweet words, thirsty for comfort. And you're the closest to get it from, as for now. You might be left behind, hell he might just forget this favor in the morning. He can be playing with you, teasing youーbut being aware of that annoying attraction you have for him, you fucking nodded, eye closed and anticipating.

You felt his hands ghosting on your face, keeping some strands away, caressing your cheek with a finger before cupping it with the delicate touch of his calloused hands. Then you can feel his breath fanning across your face, you sucked your breath from the closeness, your nails digging to your palm, and you heard him chuckle.

"Relax. Won't eat you."

You smirked, still with your eyes closed. "What a lie."

Then you felt it, his fluttering lips pressed onto yours ever so gently you felt it barely touched, brushed might be a good term before he pressed it firmly, and another one, and another until you can't take the teasing and your hands flew to the back of his neck and pulled him closer to kiss him back. Your eyes fluttered open when you pulled back, meeting his eyes full of shock and curiosity and amusement and you just rolled your eyes on him, rubbing a thumb on his skin.

His face is breaking a breathy smile when he felt your awkwardness from the way your arms loosened in his neck. "Can I touch you?"

You instantly felt fire in your cheeks, swallowed a lump on your throat and Tooru sees how your reactions danced in your face, frame by frame. And he is amused by it, much more when you nodded.

He smiled at you before going for a deep kiss, poking his tongue onto your lips for entry, and you granted him access, running your hands on his hair slightly tugging. You can't help but moan at how his tongue flicks against yours, and how his hands wander on your thighs, rubbing so sensually. Then you yelped when he lifted you up to his lap, straddling him and capturing your lips again.

Tooru's hands travelled up your skirt, gripping your ass and smirked through your kiss, realizing you just wore your thong. You pulled away enough to mutter a "Shut up, Tooru." And you smashed your lips back to his, hungrily kissing him and groaning the constant teasing of his fingers in your underwear's garter.

"Can I do more?" He asked after a few good minutes of kissing and groping, his breath heavy, eyes hazy with lust. "Fuck. Please, let me do more."

You tilted your head, mocking him and you laughed when he groaned and buried his head on your chest. You're no better, you can feel wetness from between your thighs and it's just a matter of time before he notices that, and he will still tease you no matter what so you lowered your hips, lining your wetness to his hard-on and started grinding, earning an animalistic groan from him.

"Fucking shit. You're wet already, mi amor. Lo sienーfuck."

You moaned as he tightened his grip on your waist, guiding it down and faster. "I'm gonna ravish you, okay?"

He didn't waited for your answer as he captured your gaping mouth and swallowed your moans. You can feel his finger swiped through your wetness before lifting you up to his room and down to his soft mattress. And even if this is the first time seeing him above you like this, you know you can't get enough of this sight. It's so captivating, swallowing your thoughts whole, ignoring the danger alerts from your system. You won't have this any other way.

Tooru woke up to a soft grip around his waist, a comfortable weight on his draped arm. Thoughts from the previous night came reeling and he sighed, pulling you closer by your head and kissed your hair to which you hummed and nuzzled your head to his neck.

He stared at the ceiling, remembering the conversation that led you to his bed. His face soured as he reached for his phone. It was muted the whole day yesterday for some reason he can't stomach but the curiosity is killing him now.

☆ VOLLEYBALL IDIOTS ー MAIN ☆

JZJ | Runa

Aaahh, sorry Ran! I can't! Just share more pictures pleasee!

JZJ | Yuuji

HAH! NO!

DON'T!

JZJ | Runa

Booger!

ITC | Yoomi

Stop being a bully for once.

STZ | Kenjiro

Please send pictures.

CRW | Kei

Tsk. @Rintaro Suna

CAT | Kai

Ran said you have to give two gifts if you didn't attend even the reception, LOL.

DT | Kenji

I'm attending the reception! Fuck!

@Mai Nametsu PM

SJ | Hajime

I have proxies there.

SJ | Maki

who? 😏

SJ | Issei

WHO? 👀

SJ | Hajime

🌵

FOX | Rintaro

*sent 12 pictures*

Tooru Oikawa left the group

FOX | Samu

LMAO

Osamu Miya added Tooru Oikawa to the group

@RAN'S PLUSHIE he's escaping

RAN'S PLUSHIE

LOL

@Tooru Oikawa as promised

*sent 1 picture*

SJ | Tooru

👍

CRW | Hisashi

Awkward....

CRW | Tobio

@RAN'S PLUSHIE don't use your phone while at your own reception

TOBIO'S Y/N

Oh.

RAN'S PLUSHIE

Heyyy! I'm sorry! But are y'all enjoying??

Tooru discarded his phone to his nightstand, the pictures sent embedded in his mind too late. All he could do was card your locks, closing his eyes, prohibiting any tears to fall from his eyes.

He has to accept it. He did this to himself. Now he has to face it. And begrudgingly dragging you to the mess that he is. He'll regret this, but what's there to mess more in his life?

His phone kept ringing and buzzing as the days went by. He's back to his usual routine, morning jogs, day to afternoon practices and nights with you. As you moan in his ears as you came the fourth time a month after your first hook up with him, he can't shake the thought that why is it so hard to detach himself from Ran and make space for you in his heart other than this heated relationship you have with him.

You're kind, and thoughtful, you understand him, saw his darkest parts, and you're gorgeous. He kept throwing glances to those men who checks you out when you're out jogging with him, even some of his teammates are checking you out he glared at them once. He's.. protective of you. All he knows is he wants you near him, like this. You somehow provide comfort in his messy world, a pillow to hug through his lonely life. And he has to somehow repay you, other than being a fuckbuddy.

So, he started cooking for you when he comes back to his apartment from practice, helping in the bistro on his days off, giving you random sunflowers picked from the park you had to smack his arm everytime through your blush. He's not oblivious to your budding feelings, and he'll be damned he knows it, unable to reciprocate it.

"Where are we going?"

He huffed as he cruised through the road out of the city, bags for a week packed on the back seat.

"The team's got a friendly match in Mar del Plata, can't leave you behind." He side eyed you and smiled, his features in the sunrise looked so dazzling as always.

And you were debating with your heart again, continuously asking what kind of relationship is this. You never dared opening up the topic, afraid that opening it up would instantly end whatever this is. And you're sure you're not ready for it to happen.

Your train of thoughts were halted when he hummed, "Y/n, just wanna let you know I'm in the roster already, training to be their starter setter. If I acquire my citizenship within three months, I can join the leagues in November."

You grinned at him, a leg propped on your seat as you turn your body to face him. "I knew you could do it, Tooru. Tan orgulloso de ti."

Tooru's hand reached for your thigh and squeezed it, nonverbally thanking you for the support. And it stayed there for hours, through the talks about his life in Japan and about his friends, until you fell asleep through the drive. And you shall know though, many years from now, that it's the most peaceful drive Tooru had in his life, with you just slumbering away while he drove across the country.

Nothing much to do in Mar del Plata other than being in their practices and on the actual match later that week, professional volleyball player Oikawa Tooru on full display. When in court, you can see his glow, brighter than how the sunshine reflects on his face every morning when he cuddles you after a steamy fuck the night before. Of course, this is his life-goal, and you're just his.. go-to.

You can't help but be sullen whenever the thought hit you. And more so that night out after the game with the other team.

The other team, you discovered, were on friendly terms with Tooru's team for years and both of you are new to them so basically, you're the center of attention tonight.

"Tooru, si? How's CA San Juan?"

"They're exceptional."

"Have you been always a setter?"

"Yes, since middle school."

"Why Argentinean League?"

Evading conflicts. "Wanna go against certain players in the future as national players."

You leaned your head at his shoulder as he offered that white lie to them, fiddling with your phone. The teams jeered at how Tooru answered it and encouraged him more on being a national player. You smiled, but dropped almost immediately when the captain of the other team raised the question.

"Who is she? Your girlfriend?"

Tooru turned his head to you, peeked through your lashes and you smiled, "No." You leaned away from him almost immediately as you answered. And Tooru stared at you at the rest of the night, silent, even through the drive home the day after.

There was nothing wrong with how you answered the question, right? You're just stating facts. You're not clearly his girlfriend, because clearly he's not yet over Ran, his love of his life. You peeled your eyes from his pheripherals. You can't let Tooru see how your eyes saddened.

And sadness and nausea pulled you to sleep.

"ーIwa-chan. She's.. I don't knowー"

"You're clearly making her a rebound, Shittykawa."

"No."

"Don't confuse yourself. Don't hurt her in expense of your comfort."

"I'm not, Hajime, IーI can drop everything I worked hard, for her, to stay with her."

"ARE YOU NUTS!?"

"Nー"

"THAT'S THE GOAL OF YOUR LIFETIME, SINCE PRIMARY AND YOU'RE GONNA DROP IT!?"

"Tone down. She might hear you, she's just sleeping."

"What the fuck, YOU'RE CRAZY!"

"I can'tーHajime, not her. Not again."

"YOU'RE JUST SEEING TSUKISHIMA RAN IN HER!"

"Tsk. If you can't drop your tone down, I'm ending the call."

"THEN END IT I DON'T WANNA TALK TO YOU! YOU'RE FRUSTRATING! THAT'S OUR GOAL AND YOU'RE JUST GONNAー"

You heard him huff, clearly frustrated of his bestfriend and you noticed he sped up to the last stretch to town. He didn't notice you were awake, good, because you don't know how to react to that conversation.

Your attention was on your belly and a tear escaped from your eyes. You swallowed hard as you waited patiently to be on the confines of your home.

Tooru barged in your room on a weekend after the Mar del Plata trip, catching you barfing on your bathroom sink. "Bad pasta." You had said to reassure him, smiling over your shoulder. He rubbed your back after he had gone to get you a glass of water.

You had to inform him of your college plans out of the country. You knew it was sudden, but you needed this. And maybe now's the best time, considering he might've seen the luggages all around your room.

"Tooru." You called his attention while wiping your face. Damn, bad pasta. "I'll be going to Rio de Janeiro for college in the fall." No brakes, just go straight ahead, Y/n. If you get caught up, it'll destroy you both.

And you had to veer your eyes away from his, offering a smile you don't know if it's sincere or no.

"Y/n?"

"I have been planning this even before you came." Go on, Y/n.

"Can I come with you?"

You shook your head, smile still plastered at your face as you turn to him. "No, Tooru. You'll be getting your citizenship soon and the team needs their fresh setter."

"How about your parents?"

"They'll be staying in the country, but they're going back to Rio Gallegos."

His eyes went wild, searching for something in your eyes. Is it panic that you're seeing? You suddenly felt bad. You just wanted to be in his room, in his arms, like last week, like the weeks, months before that.

"The bistro?"

"Will be turned over to Tiá Carmellita."

"Y/n, you're leaving me."

Osamu's was the name right? words that night in the bistro slammed to you like a trailer truck. You took Tooru's hand and kissed it. "I'll be back before you know it. First, you have to make your dreams come true here, in San Juan, okay?"

Tooru's head was swimming on a pool of oil or tar where he can't get out of. Seeing you packing, the thoughts of you leaving is plaguing him like locusts. And he can't say anything, clearly baffled of what's happening in front of him, and on inside of him. What's happening to him?

He got his own taste of medicine, getting left for their own goals. And you, of all people, is doing that to him, makes the pain doubling him over to the edge of sanity. But he's confused. Why is he feeling this for you?

But you'll come back, right? Yeah, you'll come back. Nothing to be worried about.

Though, he still rushed to the airport to see you one last time for the promised four years of being away. And that too, he failed to do, and without knowing you waited two hours for him to come by, guessing you're not that important to him, and it's still volleyball Tooru's prioritizing. And definitely, you couldn't hold onto what he said to his bestfriend over the phone. And he said to keep in touch, but you have no plans to.

Being with him is dangerous for you, and for the little growing pasta inside of you.

You're cradling your little bundle of joy of a three-month-old to sleep as you heard a knock on your door. Must be the food delivery, your mouth instantly watered and you rushed for the door.

You were greeted by an orange-haired man, all dressed like the usual delivery man of your favorite restaurant nearby. Though, you were familiar of him for he had moved two apartments down your unit and.. he's clearly Japanese.

"Thank you, Shoyo. Come in and get the money in that table." You nudged your chin to the high table beside your mirror just off the sala.

"Seu bebê está dormindo, Y/n?"

"About to." And you turned to face your baby to Shoyo, and he instantly cooed and poked her fluffy cheeks.

"Adeus Thalia~"

"Adeus Tió Shoyo~"

And he's about to go out the door when you called out to him. "Shoyo, relax, you'll gonna be fine." Because you noticed him in his first month that he's nowhere okay, probably missing home like that achingly familiar guy. Shoyo nodded at you, lips quivering and bowed, clutching the strap of his delivery bag. When he was gone, you sighed deeply thinking you're seriously plagued with Japanese neighbors.

The days went by and you decided to expose your baby to the sunshine and to people. You just hope she'll be a good pasta out there, hoping she's as sociable as her father. And you were thankful that she is, as she flapped her fat arms to passerbys as you head for the beach. You remembered Shoyo and his friends are lounging here when they got nothing to do, except for Pedro that's probably cooped up on his room.

But suddenly, Thalia went rigid in your arms and after three months of taking care of this cute pasta, you knew what was happening as she started getting whiny and whimpering. You kissed her cheeks and turned back to your apartment. And that's when you heard it..

"Oikawa-san!"

"ChibiーAh! Shoyo!"

Your breath went suddenly restricted, you feel your feet wobbled you held on tight to Thalia, forcing your steps towards the path to your apartment.

"What are you doing here Oikawa-san?"

"Uh, that's my question, thanks. Don't steal it."

Faster, Y/n. Before he notices you and your crying pasta. Fuck. What are the odds. WHAT ARE THE ODDS!

"Y/n?"

You froze and looked up, the captain of Tooru's volleyball team staring down at you, surprised. He might've seen your watery eyes and silent plead because he suddenly nodded and just went on like he didn't see you. But seeing Thalia.. You silently battered yourself in your thoughts for being so dumb. You should've known!

You were crying hard as you changed Thalia's diapers, and she's crying with you as you rock her, kissing her head. It was just his voice, but it has already this big of an effect on you. You missed him, so bad, but you can't destroy the ones that you love.

And he's just seeing Ran in you.. you can't indulge in him anymore. You're thankful for Thalia, butー

You froze as you heard a knock, your fear of him taking over.

"W-who is it?" You squeaked as you took a look at your peephole.

"It's me. Pedro." You sighed, but not near to be relax. You opened your door and let Pedro in.

"Você está bem? Your eyes areー"

You placed Thalia in her cot as she got tired of crying and now is sleeping. "I'm fine. I'm fine."

"Uh, just heard Thalia's cries, thought you might need some help?"

You quickly wiped a tear fallen to your cheeks, "Nope. Thank you. Shoyo? Is he home?"

He paced to your dining, and you just noticed the plastic bag on his hand as he placed it on the table. "Nope. But he sent this for you. He also sent for me, too. So.." He studied you for a minute and let his thoughts go, "Eu deveria estar indo. Knock when you need help, okay?"

You nodded as you smiled at him. You wanted to say you wanted to leave Rio, leave a place again just to be away from him completely. You exasperatedly closed your eyes, rubbed your forehead on all the things you're already planning, then your eyes flew to your sleeping pasta.

For Thalia. You'll endure anything.

You just hope he'll be gone after a few days. He should go after a few days. And within that wait, you'll be staying in your apartment. Thalia's exposure to the sun and to the public can wait, just for a few days.

And Tooru was conflicted on being in Rio, to where you said you will be. You haven't contacted him for over a year already, and it's bothering him to the core, much more bothered now than finding out that Ran got twins. He just wanted to see you, be with you, but how can he be with you if he can't even reach you?

And he saw Shoyo instead, glad and might be a little terrified at the evolution he's showcasing Tooru. But still a little clumsy as he said he lost his wallet, so he treated him dinner, and his friends. He told him there's this woman with a newborn in his neighborhood and when Shoyo decided to part his dinner with her, Tooru just ordered a few more for her, without knowing it was you.

He wasn't expecting to see you though, after a year of no contact he thought he was ghosted, just left behind with no traces. But a few years from now, he'll realize he had left a big part of him on you.

"You're kidding me."

Osamu gasp at something Tooru can't figure out from across the table. Shoyo was between the Miya Twins and they're looking at something on his phone. On times he got scared of Osamu, it was always related to Ran, the last one being 7 years ago at a haunting bistro off the streets of San Juan.

Tooru was shocked, as every athlete inside the joint restaurant of Moon and Onigiri Miya in Shibuya crossing, when Osamu grabbed Tooru's collar from across the table.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Tooru?"

"What is your problem now?"

Osamu snatched Shoyo's phone and shoved it to Tooru's face.

Tooru's eyes were achingly slow to reach the Shoyo's phone screen because of his irritation. He was already sleepy and he just wants to go back to his apartment. But no, the heavens have other plans.

He saw you in Shoyo's phone, and his shaky hands reached out to hold the phone yourself, wide eyes and tears running down his cheeks as his eyes fixed on a little girl beside you.

"What the fuck, Oikawa."

"What's happening?"

"There's this kid that looks a lot like him."

"And?"

"Osamu?"

"We met her in San Juan, Shoyo. You didn't even thought about that? How dumb can you be?"

"Yeah, boke. But what? A kid?"

"Thalia's 7 years old now."

"Wait till Hajime hears this, Tooru."

"You're one messed up dude, really."

But he's deaf of the judgments around him. His attention was on you, and his probably little girl. No, not probably, he was sure it's his. She has the same chocolate brown hair and eyes.

He smiled through his tears and faced Shoyo who was just staring at him, waiting for him to say something.

"Y/n's that friend that I told you about, with a newborn."

Tooru closed his eyes, he never realized he was already that close to seeing you. Why didn't youー

"She said Thalia's father is just seeing her as someone else so she never told him she was pregnant. And Y/n's too invested in making that man's dreams come true without her, so she decided to escape from his grasp." Shoyo tilted his head on Tooru in brooding annoyance. "You don't destroy the people you love. She would always say that everytime I ask her why won't she go back, but that applies to you too, huh, Oikawa-san. And twice at that."

The place fell silent at Shoyo's words, except for Osamu's whimpers at the familiarity of the quote he once said at that bistro.

Tooru fell back to his chair, Shoyo's phone falling to the table with a loud thud. His composure was like a broken dam and a series of fucks and what the hells were muttered 'round the place.

"Where is she now, Shoyo? She deserves my apology."

Tooru heard Hajime but his cries came flooding on his system. He didn't even realize he loves you this much until now. Oh what irony.

"She's still at the apartment. I can call her if you're both coー"

"Don't. If she knew Tooru's coming, she might evade him again."

"Tooru-oni, stop crying, you look dumb."

Ran's 7-year old son, Takeshi, was previously seating in Kiyoomi's lap and now he's infront of Tooru, offering his hanky to him. Tooru sniffed hard and wiped his tears, and smiled to which Takeshi scrunched up his nose. So much like his mother. He took the hanky from his little hands and kissed his head. Takeshi made way to Tooru's lap and sat there, cringing at how Tooru blew his nose.

But Tooru hugged Takeshi, kissing his head more, to which Osamu rubbed his face exasperatedly and walked out. "'Keshi, you'll be staying with me tonight just until mama's home, okay?"

"Haiii~"

And Tooru felt Hajime's hand on his shoulders, tapping, encouraging him on facing you a week from now.

But by now, you're not afraid of him anymore, instead you're just waiting for him to find you again, like what the fate did seven years ago. And Thalia's ready for his father, too, but Tooru should expect her grumpiness and competitiveness as she had taken it from him.

"Oikawa Tooru, mama?"

"Si, mi amor."

"He's a dangerous volleyball idiot."

And you laughed. Yeah, he's a volleyball idiot, alright. But dangerous? Hm, nope. He's actually soft and a crybaby that you would want to comfort and protect for all eternity.

Estas bien? ー You, okay?

Lo siento por eso ー I'm sorry for that

Gracias ー Thank you

Cariño ー endearment for lover

Por favor ー Please

'ñorito (señorito) ー gentleman, sir, (but yn intended to humor him)

hija ー little girl

mi amor ー my love

Tan orgulloso de ti ー so proud of you

Seu bebê está dormindo? ー your baby is sleeping?

Adeus ー bye

Você está bem? ー are you okay?

Eu deveria estar indo ー I should be going

Reblogs and interactions are appreciated. Theories will be entertained. Cassie 2023.

201 notes · View notes