#spy!iwaizumi

[fandomcentralsstuff]

What do you mean Present Mic, Iwaizumi and Franky have the same voice actor😭😭😭😭😭

[kawachii]

Spy x Family au for the @iwaoibb 💕

please look forward to reading ine's fic for this art here

[watmels]

Shiratorizawa’s Spy (p.52)

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masterlist

[iwaasfairy]

IWA HARSH PUSSY SLAPPPPSSS OR FINGERINGGGG

a/n. yea I made it dad iwa and also some oc bullshit fucking suE ME but it’s good i like this one yeAAAA I hope you enjoy BBYYYYY I know I liked writing it hahahHAHA

GET IT RIGHT

tw. incest, dad x daughter, single dad iwa, reader’s a brat, obv age gap, size stuff implied, pussy slapping, (hard-ish) dom iwa, brat taming, noncon voyeurism, it’s a family affair, solo masturbation, jealousy wc. 3k

iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader, iwaizumi eiji and hitoshi x fem!reader

Its not his business that you’re a total nympho. Frankly, he could care less. Hitoshi’s eyes flick from under his baseball cap to the older sibling’s smug, almost accomplished smile when he runs a hand through his head of hair, before shaking some of the excess water out. The lighter brunet chuckles. “Our little sister’s laying on a towel with her tits out in the Oikawa’s backyard.”

“Dad’s over there, ain’t he?” Hitoshi responds, already back to scrolling mindlessly through Reddit to cure some of his boredom. Head of the Iwaizumi house said to ‘go outside for a bit’ so here he is, sweating his ass off in the lawn chair. What you’re up to really is none of his concern. Really. Eiji only smiles.

“And what? You think he’s gonna tell her off? Be for real for a second, Tosh.” There’s a look on Eiji’s face. Mixed in under the amusement and the bolstering, there’s something a bit tense. Impatient, and though he’d sooner die than admit it, Hitoshi recognises the glint that sits in the slight scrunch of his nose. He’s jealous. Yeah, you’re the type of little sister who gets away with having your tits out while they’re supposed to pretend not to see it. After sloppily patting himself dry with one of the towels, the oldest sibling slaps his phone out of his hands to grunt. “Get up.”

He responds before he thinks. “Fuck you, bitch.”

But it doesn’t bother his brother, who only tosses the towel back onto the table. “Stop intellectualising it and get up. You wanna get a look too, right? Dad’s over there right now to keep an eye on our little sister, and no one else is home. What do you think’s gonna happen.”

+

The sun’s so nice on your bare skin, glowing heat onto you and making you feel so sleepy and dazed. You’re all housesitting, which means access to the ridiculously nice pool of the Oikawa’s — and a secluded garden where you’re free to do whatever the fuck you want. The low voice is the only thing interrupting the peace. Daddy. “Babe. What do you think you’re doing?”

Your hat’s covering most of your view, but if you crack open one eye you can just about make out the way your dad crosses his arms over his wide chest, wife beater clinging a bit too tight to his muscular form. You push your lips out. “Sunbathing.”

“Put something on.” He sounds a bit tight, like he’s gotta clear his throat. Good.

“Why though?” You lift the hat up with one finger to look up further, see the slightly flushed visage of your father as he eyes you down. He’s a bit sweaty, yard work, and now has all his attention aimed at you. “I can’t get warm evenly all over if I do. Besides, no one’s home, and no one’s gonna look at me. The only people who can see into the yard is us, and Hitoshi nii’s not going to crawl out of his dungeon to spy on me, I promise you.”

It stays quiet for a few seconds as he takes in your words, before he sighs. Frowns just a bit, as he lets his eyes glide down your body just once. Enough to have his jaw clench, though. “I’m working here.” Then, after a bit more thought, he forces out the rest of the words. “You’re distracting.”

“Daddy~ please~” you start though, now pushing off the hat completely and wrapping your arm around yourself in mock-modesty. You have no intention of actually covering up. And looking at the way he’s breathing and already sweaty, he doesn’t actually want you to cover up either. “Nobody’s home. It’s fine. Please?” His olive green eyes flick to the way you’re pushing up your tits with your arms now, and those swimming trunks start feeling a bit tight on him if the way he shifts is anything to go by. The intense look would’ve scared you off before, but… well, it isn’t the first time you’ve gotten away with worse.

It also probably won’t be the last. “Once the sun is gone I’ll cover up to go back into the pool out front, promise.” You smack your lips, and give him those big puppy eyes that he seems to love so much. “Ei nii’s out there and I don’t want him to get an eyeful anyway.” You roll onto your side to send him your best smile. “Only trust you like that, daddy~” You’re audacious, a brat, but only because you know that gets him going. Wouldn’t do it this way if he really didn’t like it. When you go to lay back down with closed eyes, you can already hear him move in the grass.

A slight line works its way between your brows at that, at the idea that he’d walk away from you. But then a warm palm wraps around your arm to pin it beside your head on the towel, and you can feel the heat of him getting onto his heels beside you. Your breathing hitches, but you force yourself to keep your eyes closed. “Trust me to do what, exactly?” He rasps.

His other hand comes to your shoulder to push his thumb in, nice and hard, and works a moan out of you before you can think— working his way down in circles that pull goosebumps out of you. “What’s all this show really for? To make your big brothers jealous? Hm?” He gets close enough for the whispered voice to tickle your neck, hot thigh pressed against your waist before he places the other on your other side, straddling you. “You think that you can ‘daddy’ all your problems away? That if you look at me sweetly enough I’ll give?”

“I- didn’t-” your voice hitches when his mouth drags over your pulse, slight stubble and warm lips leaving kisses all down the length if it. The heat of the sun on your naked chest only makes the almost touch more irritable and itchy, and you have to fight the urge to just curl your body up against him already. “Didn’t want my big brothers to see. Wanted -you to.” When he noses at your collarbone you try to find your voice, and worm your wrist out of his grip to reach for his hair. “Wanted daddy to play with me again. I’ve been waiting since yesterday. Please.”

You can’t help but think back to last weekend, grinding down on his thigh with his fingers down your throat. Panties coated in stickiness and your entire body trembling with exhaustion. He laves soft mouthed kisses onto your throat enough to have you shaking now, too. But Hajime’s nothing if not consistent, as he noses the side of your breast and his hands slide down to squeeze your waist. “You know that I can’t, right?” He always says that.

You can’t help but laugh, humourlessly, and tug softly at the hair trapped between your fingers. “Then why are you?” And he is. As soon as he gets near enough, you arch your back automatically, still clenching your eyes closed. If you look now, the image will haunt you every day for the rest of summer. You’ll need daddy’s hands on you until you can’t go any more. Your tit is pushed against his cheeks because of your motion, and he groans a low, rumbling sound against your body. You can feel the heat of his bulge through his shorts. “Did you get jealous that Eiji might’ve seen me? Even a little?”

A second passes, before he finally grunts. “Fuck, yeah.” His mouth comes to your tits, tongue rubbing over hardened nipples too well, too knowingly. Knowing your daddy’s had other women before could make you green with envy, but he feels so good. His mouth, and hands feel so fucking good. Good enough to cry about it, trapped under his broad, heavy form as he squeezes and sucks your tits. “You’re a headache, you know that? Do you feel what you do to me?”

“Mhm.” You nod, panting, squirming under him. His hardening cock pushes against your thigh as you roll your hips, and he leaves impatient lovebites all over your tits. “Daddy.. d-daddy. Want you.” He’s so big and hot and heavy against you any time you get this close, it’s not your fault. You’re only a headache because he made you one. The clothed grinding against his covered, hard cock leaves your pussy awfully wet and sticky. Your breaths short. “Don’t you wanna- s-show your boys who your daughter belongs to, daddy?”

Your eyes shoot open when a sharp sting jerks your body, spreading through the flesh of your tit before he laves his tongue over the ridges where his teeth dug in. He clicks his tongue while grinding your other nipple between his fingers, making your bottom lip wobble. It feels so good, he always does. It’s not your fault. “Stop tempting me to make you regret your little stunt.” Your teary eyes meet his, dark and predatory before he pushes himself up, and yanks you closer by your thighs. “Legs up on my shoulders.”

“But-“

“Legs.” He says again, lower. You do, let him help your ass up to his mouth and reposition you so he’s level with your cunt. Your pussy clenches around nothing as he blows on your clit through the fabric, and only one hand keeps wrapped like a vice around your thigh to stabalize you. “I don’t wanna hear anything except how good it feels. Understood?”

You nod, before thinking better of it and speaking up. “Yes.” Fuck, it’s hot. He’s hot. You’re about to melt into a puddle with his face between your legs. He pushes your bikini bottoms aside with rough fingertips before pushing in. And you gasp, doing everything not to whine already. As his nose pushes against your sensitive clit, his lips find yours to leave a wet kiss on the opening, and he pushes his tongue against your sloppy lips without another warning. It’s already too much.

“Agh- d-daddy. You feel g- gh-ud.”

The big, hot tongue pushing you open, makes you grind against him while blood rushes both to your cunt and your head. His other hand flicks over your enterance a few times instead, before two thick fingertips push inside you, slow at first. He makes a show out of bottoming them out, and you can feel the way he smiles when it makes your pussy squelch. His tongue flicks over your clit hard and fast, before sucking. “Fuck, you’re so- good- g-good to me. Daddy!”

“Mhm.” The blood makes your ears ring. It makes you so dizzy it’s impossible to see much past daddy’s face and how good he looks, rubbing his tongue in rough motions over your pussy. He’s licking and licking and licking against your clenching muscles so good it’s almost unbelievable. The rough friction of his chin and stubble against your pussy, the way he nibbles just right at your clit, it’s all too much. It’s too much because it’s daddy— because he knows what he’s doing.

“D-daddy!”

You mewl as you curl your body against him and the push to your clit gets even better. Too good. You’re so sweaty his hand slips on your thigh, instead pulling you back by your heel and yanking you back up, right as your toes curl. His face is making a mess between your legs, and your mouth hangs open. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He- he’s already gonna make you cum. Sweat rolls down your back as your juices run down his chin and he buries himself as deep as he can, groaning your name into your pussy. “That’s my pretty girl, there you go.”

Your thighs squeeze around him and your eyes open through your tears, desperately searching for the eye contact you need to get there. But maybe because he knows you, he pulls back and drops you back down by your legs, spreading them by his thighs. “No, no- daddy pleas-uhh~ I wanna cum.”

“You’re coming on my cock.” He snaps back, before pushing you open more and slapping your pussy with a flat palm. “That alright with you, miss princess?” He says it like it’s an insult. For a moment, it does feel like it. Your mouth snaps shut against the cry you wanna let out, as his hand lands again before you can react. You jerk against the sting, clench your legs closed around his hand, but he pushes them back open to do it again. And again, and again, until slick is dripping down to your ass and your clit is tingling and swollen. You could burst out into a sobbing fit any second. “Can I do what I gotta do to get you there now?”

“Yes,” you sniffle back instantly, and open your eyes at him. Thick tears sit on your vision at it, you can’t help it. It’s all his fault you’re this way anyway. Your thighs wobble before your bottom lip does, and it’s this that makes him sigh.

“Aw, babe, shhhh— I’m sorry.” He takes only a moment to pull his shirt over his head, then gets back over you to wipe away the thick tracks. It doesn’t do much against the tears that keep coming, but it’s ok. It’s much better when you can place your hands to his bare chest and feel his heartbeat through your palms, reach up to kiss him. He tastes like you, and you suck on his tongue until he moans into the kiss. When he pulls back, that hot, big palm cups your cheek. “Was that mean?”

“I deserved it.” His dialated eyes search yours for a moment, before he kisses you back another few times. The tingling ache between your legs remains, but there’s a pit in your stomach that becomes more demanding again. “Please keep going?”

“Take me out.” Your hands instantly glide down his body at the order, hooking two fingers around the elastic band before pulling. Pulling down until you reveal the trail of pubic hair that leads down to his thick, flushed cock and down further. Down until the fabric can no longer hold him back from bobbing up against his stomach and he lets out a deep breath. You pull a little more to get a glimpse of his fat, heavy balls too, before daddy grunts and places both elbows by your head again. “Lead my cock inside you like a good girl, hm?”

“Uhuh.” Gladly. Your fingers reach for him, touching the dripping head first. Pre gets all over your fingertips, and you truly can’t stop yourself from putting two fingers inside your mouth with a whimper. Your hands return to squeeze around the head, need both to reach and stroke down a few times. Not that he needs it. He’s hard enough to feel his heartbeat through the skin, thick cock twitching as you shuffle around to line up. “‘s big.”

“It’s big to make you feel good.” He agrees, kisses your temple, and bucks into your palm. “Go on.” You line him up with a deep breath, before blinking your long lashes up at him with your lip between your teeth. The head kisses your hole as he hums, slides your slick around on the puffy mushroom head a few times before pushing in. “Ugh-always forget,” he grunts lowly, biceps bulging as he holds himself above you, “how fucking tight you are. My little baby.”

He starts rocking himself inside you bit by bit, and you can’t help but drag your nails along his flexing back to hang on. “Ah, ah, agh, daddy. You’re- so- big.” You throw your head back, and pant, tears still wobbling. You’re no longer sad though. Your pussy’s being forced open too big, too- fucking wide for you to clench around him properly- but it feels so good. He feels so fucking good, oh God. You want to fuck daddy all summer. You want him to never, ever stop.

+

Hitoshi’s so fucking hot it makes it hard to see straight. Cum’s gotten on his shirt, all over his hand, and he’s got boxers full of cum running down his fucking thigh. While his cock’s still hard and red in his fist as he forces his own hips not to buck. He can just barely hear your whines echo over the field to where they’re hiding— and you sound, predictably, just like how he imagined you do. You look good. Fuck, he’s sure you’d look just as good under him, but instead you’re clinging flushed faced, tits bouncing to your dad with his greying temples and letting yourself get used.

You’re pathetic, honestly. But he’s also not fucking blind. His cock twitches hard in his hand, and his other hand comes to cover the flared head as if that’ll keep a third load in. He’s trying to hold it so hard that he’s panting, balls pulling up to his body.

“Think she’ll let me eat the cum out of her when dad leaves?” Eiji’s pumping his cock without shame like there’s no tomorrow, getting drops of hot, clear liquid everywhere. He’s christened the plants with his cum earlier, too. Hitoshi just grimaces, before looking back at the way your body curls around the fat cock driving in and out of you, your cries about to make him bust again. “Huh?”

“I don’t fucking care, Ei nii.” He then furrows his brows so deep that you’d say he’ll get permanent wrinkles, not bothering to look over. “Why do you wanna eat dad’s cum out of her?”

“So I can fuck my own into her.”

Hitoshi’s too busy watching you and breathing through it to care about what he’s saying, so it takes a minute to filter through his hazy thoughts. “You’re a pig.”

Eiji just rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say, quick shot. Have fun trying not to cum when I go next.”

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2024. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[seijorhi]

Violent Delights

for my very dearest best friend (wife) @iwaasfairy i'm sorry it's super late, but august and april both start with 'a' which basically means they're the same month <33 iwaizumi hajime x female reader w.c 4.4k tw: yandere themes, non-con, drugged reader, blood/gore, murder, incest, sorta smut (nsfw)

M I N E

It’s funny in a way. Amidst the wreckage, the blood, what was left of your friends and the cooling puddle of cum splattered across your naked stomach, four letters carved into your bedroom wall seemed almost… harmless. Or at least the easiest to digest. Fixate on.

The detective asked about your ex partners, the dates you’d been on recently, whether or not you’d noticed anyone in your day-to-day paying you too much attention, if anyone made you feel uncomfortable, or said anything that seemed out of place.

But your exes don’t care enough to kill, and the two dates you’ve been on in the last six months never bothered to text you back. No one’s left weird, unsettling gifts, or stared too long in line at the coffee shop. There’s nothing. No precursor or warning, no giant red flag waving in front of you.

Mine. 

Hovering on the edge of numbness, blind hysteria just out of reach, you stare at the beige walls of the hotel room they’d put you up in, the angry gouges flickering in and out of existence with every blink. 

Mine.

Mine.

Mine.

Kaori was the one obsessed with all the true crime stuff. She’d be the first to tell you psychopaths and nutjobs – they don’t jump straight into drugging and triple homicide. There’s a pattern of behaviour. Escalation. 

Something you missed. 

Then again, considering it’s her blood still caked under your fingernails, there’s a strong possibility she wouldn’t be all that enthusiastic about the whole thing to begin with. 

You need a shower, a proper one – not the glorified sponging off they’d given you at the hospital. Enough to get you out the door, not nearly enough to scrub away the grime and rid yourself of what he did to you–

The others had it worse. You survived. He barely touched you.

Mine. 

The thought of scalding water, of scrubbing yourself raw does hold a certain appeal, yet hunched over atop starched white sheets, those same bloody fingernails sink into the flesh of your arms instead, grounding you in the tiny bite of pain. 

Minutes tick past and you don’t so much as twitch. Not until a sharp knock sounds at the door and a gruff voice calls out your name. 

You wait half a beat, but when nothing more is forthcoming, you slowly edge yourself off the bed, making your way to the door. Through the peephole you spy a dark haired officer, different to the one who’d dropped you off, staring back at you. 

They did tell you there’d be an officer with you the whole time, at least for the next twenty four hours. 

“Miss?” he calls again, and you distantly realise that while your hand is poised over the deadlock, you haven’t moved to undo it. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, your forehead meeting the wooden door with a muted thud, you curse that stupid, tremulous fluttering in your chest. They’re here for you, protecting you. You’re safe.

Open the damn door. 

“Y-yeah?”

Coward.

“Brought some food for you. Dinner.” There’s a rustling on the other side, and you raise your head to peer back through the glass in time to see him lift up a paper carry bag to the peephole. The idea of eating anything right now has your stomach roiling in protest. “Nothing fancy, but it’s good, I swear,” he says. Then, gentler, like he’s talking down a spooked animal, adds, “You need to eat.”

Still, you hesitate. All you need to do is open the door, grab the food and then at least it’s there if you want it later. Easy. 

Too quick, too jerky to be natural, you twist at the handle and yank the door open a scant few inches, enough for you to reach out an arm expectantly for the food. “Thank you,” you pre-empt, because hungry or not, you’re not completely without manners.

The officer lifts an eyebrow. “Yeah, no. I’m not taking heat from the Cap when the guys on the next shift find you passed out ‘cause you haven’t eaten anything,” he scoffs. “C’mon, we can talk while you eat.” Not a suggestion – you barely have time to stumble back before he’s pushing his way inside and kicking the door closed behind him. The second he takes to flick the lock somehow simultaneously eases the knots in your stomach and sends your heartrate ratcheting.

It’s halfway to a miracle that you’re still standing at all. 

“Eat,” he tells you, his deep voice brooking no disagreement as he shoves the bag of food your way and grabs the lone chair in the room, dragging it closer to the edge of the bed and settling himself down. Clearly he has no intention of going anywhere until he’s satisfied you’ve eaten your fill.

With little else for it, you do as you’re told, reaching into the bag to find steamed buns at your fingertips, still warm as you pry open the wrapper– and wince. The familiar scent of pork, ginger and chives wafts through the air, unwittingly digging at old wounds. 

Suddenly you’re a kid again, strolling down the hill with your family, one hand tucked safely within your brother’s, the other grasping a steaming hot bun. You’re happy and whole and so, so young–

“Something wrong? You don’t like meat buns?” 

Not the time. Ignoring the bitter ache the memory conjures, you’re quick to shake your head, “No. No, thank you. It’s great.” You doubt he buys it, but then again you also doubt he cares so long as you get something in your stomach. 

One bite, chew, swallow. Another, chew, swallow – mechanical until it isn’t. The first bun disappears and you reach for the second.

“How’s your head?” he asks.

You swallow down another mouthful. “Fuzzy. Sore. I still can’t remember anything,” you  admit, in case that’s where this line of questioning is going. Nothing beyond waking up in your bed covered in blood and a stranger’s cum at any rate.

The blood work they did at the hospital confirmed you were drugged along with the others, the detective mentioning the near-empty bottle of wine they’d found, which they were in the process of testing too. He’d also pointed out the lack of evidence indicating any kind of forced entry, which paired with the former is something you’ve been trying not to dwell on. 

The officer gives a considering nod, “That’s to be expected, don’t worry about it. I still think it’s worth asking a few more questions if you’re feeling up to it?” Again, it’s phrased like a question, but already he’s pulling out a voice recorder, setting down on the mattress between you. 

“Um, sure. Yeah,” you croak. 

A small smile, “Good.” He leans forward to switch on the recorder. “We’ll start with the other victims – your friends. Tell me about them.”

“Kaori, she’s– she was my best friend. We worked at the same grocer when I first moved out of my parents’ place, when I got a job here she made the decision to move with me. That was about six months ago.” 

“And the other two?” 

“Her brother Koji and another friend of ours Takashi. They came up to visit; Kaori’s been back once or twice since we left, but I hadn’t seen them–” tears blur at your vision and your voice just… gives out. 

They’re gone. 

You drag a shuddering breath in and it hurts. 

Blindly, your hand reaches across the bed, blood tipped fingers sprawling over pristine white, and when they meet warmth – an open palm outstretched – you seize it and cling on with everything you have. You’ll unravel if you don’t.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you chant, each syllable shakier than the last.

He dips his chin, just barely, and squeezes your hand, “You invited them?”

A wordless, wide eyed nod. 

“You were close.” Not a question. He sounds like he’s mulling over the thought, though his expression is inscrutable. “Were you involved with any of them?”

This time, there’s the slightest hesitation before you shake your head. The officer frowns, “I need the truth. Your friends were attacked for a reason. Lying to me won’t help bring their families peace.”

The blood drains from your face, your heart lurching on a sickening thud. 

Your fault. 

Instinctively, you yank back your hand, or try to at least, but his grip tightens – enough to keep you from drawing away, not enough to hurt. Though neither his tone nor his expression hold any condemnation, it doesn’t change the truth of the matter. 

You didn’t drug them or pick up the knife and swing. You didn’t invite this psycho into your life, but the fact remains that they’re dead because of you. 

“I– it wasn’t like that. We weren’t… I didn’t–” 

MINE.

Tears threaten to spill and your bottom lip trembles. 

For a long, drawn out moment, he simply stares. There’s a twitch at his jaw and he sighs – more of a grunt, really – leaning back and pulling his hand from yours to rake through his dark hair. 

(Stupid, you think, how some part of you mourns the loss.) 

“Okay, alright. Fine. We’ll come back to that,” he concedes. “What about other friends? Coworkers you were close with?”

“No, I– I already told the detective I wasn’t seeing anyone.”

An irritated flash darkens his gaze. “I didn’t ask if you were fucking them.” And you must make a truly pathetic picture then, flinching like a kicked puppy, because he lets out another huff, closing his eyes for a beat and visibly working to soften the harsh lines of his expression. “Shit, okay– I’m sorry. It’s been a long day for us both,” he makes an odd noise, somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, the sound entirely devoid of humour. “The guy who did this, he either already knows about the people precious to you, or he’s gonna do his damn best to find out, and if he thinks they’re threats, he’ll hurt them, or worse – he’ll use them to hurt you. I need you to tell me everything.”

And so, feeling the exhaustion of the day creeping over you, you do.

You tell him about the small group from work you occasionally go out for Friday drinks with, your old friends from uni, right down to the neighbour two floors below, who’d seen you hauling boxes the day you’d moved in and immediately offered to help. When you’d christened the kitchen baking you’d made sure to bring him some, and just last week you’d had tea with him and his grandma.

“What about school? Anyone you still keep in contact with?”

You try for a laugh but it sounds all wrong. “I wasn’t exactly popular back then,” 

His eyes narrow. They flit across your face like he’s searching for… something. You feel like a bug, pinned in place, squirming and uncomfortable, your face too hot. 

“Bullied?” he probes. 

Another nod. 

“How ‘bout family?”

Your mouth dries.

“My parents… I haven’t spoken to them in months. We don’t really get along.” The last conversation you’d had with them, if you could call it as much, lasted all of five minutes. Dry pleasantries and thinly veiled criticisms, wrapped up in yet another pointed reminder that things didn’t have to be this way – you were the one adamant on shutting them out. 

You doubt it’d raise a single eyebrow between them if you went the same again without contact. 

“Siblings?”

Another tear slips from your lashes and you swallow against the tight lump in your throat. The weight of his gaze feels oppressive, you’re too bare, too vulnerable, you don’t want to talk about this, so you shift your line of sight to the paper delivery bag, half crumpled now, and let your fingernails sink into the skin of your palms. 

Still, the words don’t come straight away, and when they do, they’re strained. Choked. Painted so thick is grief that you wonder if he understands them at all.

“No. I uh, I had a brother– a twin brother. He died.” 

You don’t talk about your brother, ever.

Kaori knew the bare bones of it. Koji and Takashi too – you had a twin brother, he died, and it fucked you up. Without ever uttering a word, they’d known not to press, that the wounds left behind weren’t quite as healed as the scar tissue led to believe. 

“How old were you?”

Seven, when you lost him. Twelve, when the letters stopped coming. 

“Fourteen,” you whisper, curling in on yourself. “He was sick.”

Stop asking, stop talking, stop, stop, stop. 

When you risk a look in the officer’s direction, his features are hewn granite, eyes set in a hard, angry glare that steals the very breath from your lungs. “Yeah?” he grunts, rising to his feet. “You stopped writing long before that.”

There’s just enough time for understanding to crash over you, for your lips to part, a feather light gasp of “Hajime?” to slip out before you’re flat on your back, wrists pinned to the mattress above your head, the officer– a ghost– Hajime looming over you. 

“What did I fucking tell you?”  

—

‘Sweetie, make sure you hold your brother’s hand.’

They’d meant when you were walking home from the bus stop, or crossing the road. When there was a buddy system so no one got separated or left behind. 

Hajime was always holding your hand. Not because your parents told him to, but because that’s how it was supposed to be. You were twins, he’d been born first (by all of six minutes) and you had followed. You were always following Hajime, and he was always going to look after you. 

Until he gets put into the Otter class with Mr Inagaki, and you go into Dugong with Miss Ino. 

Hajime’s nothing short of enraged. He throws chairs and yells and tries to kick the Principal, but it doesn’t change anything.

It would be good for you, they said, to have a chance to make other friends. ‘You can’t keep using your brother as a crutch, honey,’ your mother gently admonishes. 

Hajime scowls at that. Later, when it’s just the two of you hiding away in his room, he tells you she’s an idiot and a liar. ‘You don’t need anyone else. You have me.’

You knew that. You’d always have Hajime, but the other kids in your class weren’t as awful as he made them sound. Some of them were actually kind of cool, and they liked you, too.

For a while, you began to believe you could have both; Hajime and your new friends. 

Until one day you’re waiting for him at lunch when a boy from your class tugs on your braids and with a wide, toothy grin, loudly proclaims to the whole playground that even though you were a girl, and girls have cooties, it’d probably be okay if you wanted to be his girlfriend. 

You didn’t see Hajime coming up behind you. You’ve no idea where he found the scissors. The only warning either of you get is a sudden, splitting roar before he’s throwing himself at the smaller boy, tackling him to the ground. 

‘She’s MINE!’

Silver glints, flashing in the sunlight, and a high pitched shriek rips through the playground as he brings the scissors down on the poor, struggling boy. 

With a viciousness you’d never known of your brother, he swings again and again. It’s chaos. The other kids scatter and the teachers run to intervene. Hajime, spitting and snarling, red in the face and half-feral, doesn’t stop for them.

He stops for you. 

At the sound of a sharp little gasp, a line of red slashed along your forearm, Hajime stops dead, wide, horrified eyes fixed on yours.

—

‘Sweetie, what have I told you about snooping? I raised you better than that.’

‘But they’re addressed to me. Hajime wrote to me.’

‘Your brother’s not well, those letters– they’ll only upset you. I don’t want you reading them.’

‘… He says he misses me.’

‘I know, but he’s where he belongs, getting help. You want that for him, don’t you? To get the help he needs?’

‘I want to write back to him.’

—

There’s another letter waiting for you when you get home from school.

You hang your backpack near the door, still damp from being tossed in the pool, and eye the opened envelope sitting by your father. He doesn’t look up from his laptop when you reach for it, doesn’t lift a finger to stop you. Nevertheless, the displeasure radiates from him clear as day. 

“You shouldn’t encourage him. He’s not well.”

You’d scoff if it wouldn’t get you in trouble. Nothing you said could ever be taken as ‘encouragement’, and you’re under no illusions about who and what your brother is. 

The violence terrifies you. Sometimes he says things in the letters he writes that make your stomach all twisty and your palms sweat, but Hajime could be a monster, and you think you’d love him anyway. You wouldn’t have a choice. 

So you pluck at the envelope and tuck it close, making your way to your room without another glance at either of your parents. Sitting cross legged atop your bed, you eagerly scan the contents;

He hates the new therapist. They had a movie night planned, but some asshole started a fight and the whole thing got cancelled. The food’s still shit. He’s fed up and pissed off, whether he behaves or not, they won’t let him out and they won’t give him what he wants, so what’s the point in pretending?

The both of you turn twelve in ten days time – you owe it to him to come spend it together. 

—

‘Maybe it’s for the best, sweetheart.’

Dismissive. She’s always dismissive. Your hands curl in response, tightening before you force yourself to flex them out and bite your tongue. It’s not worth the fight. Neither one of them actually care, and nothing you say will ever change that. 

He’s angry at you. Or hurt. Both, probably. 

They wouldn’t let you visit. You’d begged – cried, even – and it hadn’t swayed them. The rules are that you aren’t allowed to go and see Hajime and you aren’t allowed to talk to him on the phone. The letters are the only communication you have, and when your twelfth birthday comes and goes, those stop too.

You’ve sent four letters since, no response. 

He’s shut you out entirely and while you can’t blame him for it, it’s painful.

You’ve always had Hajime, through everything. Him shutting you out feels like losing a limb– 

No, it’s more than that. It’s like slowly losing some vital function inside of you. Like your lungs are shutting down and you can’t breathe properly and your heart isn’t pumping the way it should. You feel guilty and horrible and at least twice, you debate trying to find a way to sneak out and make the two hour journey on your own, just so you can see him.

It’s a stupid idea, they wouldn’t even let you through the front door, but it’s the only idea you have and so you cling to it.

You keep writing to him– panicked. Desperate. Begging his forgiveness. 

He never writes back.

—

They sit you down at breakfast three months after your fourteenth birthday and tell you Hajime’s gone.

There was another fight, someone pushed him–

You don’t want to hear the details. They don’t matter and your ears are ringing too loud to make sense of them anyway.

Hajime is gone.

The cord between you was stretched and fraying already. He hadn’t written in over two years and probably hated you towards the end but he– he was–

Yours. A part of you. 

Gone.

And your mother’s asking about the English test you have second period. 

—

“What. Did. I. Say?” Each word is slowly enunciated, a quiet growl that drags an unwilling shiver down your spine. 

He smells of wood – of cedar, spice and musk, the notes melding, coiling with the dizzying body heat, the solid weight of him, bracing himself above you.

His lips are mere inches from yours. 

Not dead. 

Here.

There’s a thousand thoughts racing through your head, connections that light up, clicking into place like pieces of a puzzle, painting a deeply unsettling picture – all of which are drowned out by the revelation that Hajime is here.

You burst into tears–

and Hajime – your brother, very much alive and glaring at you from above – surges down to swallow them in a vicious kiss.

The moment your lips touch, all the tension in his body just… bleeds out. Hajime groans, low and heated, his hips rocking, grinding along your stomach, and if you weren’t too preoccupied short circuiting, dangling on the precipice of a panic attack, you’d feel the twitch of his mouth, curling into a small but no less satisfied smirk.

He relaxes, like he’s coming home rather than returning from the dead to land the killing blow.

“Mine,” he answers his own question, breath heavy and ragged as his teeth nip at your jaw. “I told you you’re fucking mine.”

The scratches on the wall. Kaori and Koji and Takashi, asleep in a sea of red. The viscous mess spilled over your belly. Your mother’s hushed voice, carrying down the hallway, ‘– only a phase. The books all say he’ll grow out of it before long.’

She hadn’t sounded convinced. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, desperate to block it all out as more tears spill into your hairline. Hajime won’t let you. He groans your name into the shell of your ear and licks at the tears as they fall. “Don’t,” he warns, fingers pressing tightly around your wrists ‘til they shoot back open with a gasp, “don’t you dare check out.”

When he rucks up your shirt to find you sans bra and a warm palm slides up to grope the soft, supple skin, a fresh burst of panic spurs you into action. Pinned under his weight as you are, you can’t move, and the idea of trying to physically fight him off is as laughable as it is terrifying – but when you were younger, you were the one – the only one – who could coax Hajime back from the edge, your hand in his.

Until he leapt from it entirely, and they took him away.

“H-Hajime?” A trembling, hiccuping whimper, thick with tears.  

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even pause – shuffling down your body to mouth at them instead – but hooded, simmering pools of green flick back up to your face, a hum of acknowledgement rumbling in his chest as he nips and sucks pretty, burgundy blooms across your breasts.

“I-if you ever loved me, even a little… Please, Haji– don’t hurt me like this–” you choke on another sob, pathetic mess that you are.

Hajime goes preternaturally still, eyes boring into you. 

You stare right back, fighting the urge to cower and flinch, to turn your cheek and stare at the discarded dumpling wrappers, letting him take what he wants. Praying that he won’t hurt you too badly if you give it to him without a fight.

Because it will hurt, you think. It’ll break you entirely. 

(Are you not already broken?)

When his head drops, you can’t help it – the sharp, terrified hitch in your breath – but his lips meet your forehead, then each cheek, before finally they brush over your lips with a tenderness he has no right to. “You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he vows, cradling the side of your jaw, “I won’t hurt you, ever.”

But that’s a lie, too.

“I love you more than anything.”

He kisses you again, soft and sweet and gentle, as if those promises weren’t sewn from violence and legitimised in blood. As if he isn’t breaking your heart with every sweep of his tongue, plundering your mouth.

There’s no fight in you left when he reaches for the waistband of your sweats and slowly starts easing them down. You don’t claw and shove when the hold on your wrists loosens and then disappears entirely, both hands needed to strip away his clothes. 

The sound of his belt buckle clinking, the soft hiss of a zipper, they wash over you, white noise lost to the pounding in your ears. 

But you don’t look away.

He strokes his cock – long and thick and flushed to the tip –  crawling up the mattress to kneel between your legs like a supplicant before an altar of the divine. 

Devotion demands sacrifice. 

“It killed me,” he starts, dragging the mushroom head along the slit of your pussy. He frowns a little, leans back and spits – a fat glob of saliva landing dead centre, adding to the mess his weeping cock’s already made. “When the letters stopped coming. I was angry, so fucking angry, all the time. I’d lash out and they’d put me in another cage, and I’d do it again, and again. They tried convincing me you’d moved on,” his eyes flash darkly, “which was bullshit. They’d have to carve me out of you with a knife.”

What shocks you isn’t the violent imagery, but the truth of it settling into your bones, inescapable and undeniable; you’ll always love your brother, even if that very love destroys you.

“I didn’t–”

The first thrust rips a strangled yelp from your throat. 

He’s too big, you’re not prepared to take him – and Hajime doesn’t care. His head tips back, shuddering out a breathy laugh. 

There’s no pause, no period of grace, seated deep inside of you, the walls of your pussy hugging him tight, Hajime won’t allow you a second to catch your breath and wait for the burning sting to abate. His hips draw back until only the throbbing head of his cock remains inside, and, upon grabbing a leg to hitch over his shoulder, uses it as leverage to punch forward, stuffing your tight little cunt to the brim.

The pace he sets is brutal from the outset. Bruising. He licks at your tears between kisses and moans when you clench and shudder around him. “Never again,” he pants into your ear. “I’ll kill them all if you leave. Every last fucking one. You’re mine. Mine.”

And you’d think it cruel, a punishment, if not for the way those green eyes burn. 

When his fingers twine with yours, pressing you down into the mattress, holding you there, you wonder if this was always an inevitability. 

Hajime led and you followed, hand in bloody hand. 

He’d never allow anything less.

[flyingwargle]

july fanfic recommendations!

i read an obscene amount of fanfic last month with some that i must share with others, hence this post. i still over >100 fics to read so maybe this will be a monthly series? we'll see.

some fics are rated e!

sakuatsu

rotten work & other things worth doing t. 3k. atsumu and sakusa clean atsumu's bathroom together. that's it, that's the fic. lots of hurt/comfort and love and affection <3

The Sakusa Complaint Jar t. 3.6k. hilarious take on the swear jar, especially as atsumu learns he's more down bad for sakusa than he thought.

Appease and Assuage t. 5.1k. sakusa has a bad day and atsumu is there for him. very soft and raw with sakusa feeling off-kilter, and atsumu knows exactly how to help him.

come, morning light g. 5.2k. sakusa gets sick and tries to push atsumu away but eventually lets him in. very soft and domestic.

Here Is Your Verse m. 15.52. 2/2. atsumu ends his fwb relationship with sakusa because he caught feelings. they end up reconciling in the end.

when you hear hoofbeats t. 42.4k. 14/14. university au slowburn where sakusa has eds and he gets into a relationship with atsumu. be aware of the chapter warnings because it gets heavy but has a happy ending!

Stockholm Syndrome Isn't Real e. 50.2k 8/8. side sunaosa(komo). au where atsumu is a pro athlete but osamu is secretly a hacker and atsumu is kidnapped in his place. love the action, tension, and everything about this.

sunaosa

slip of the pen t. 6k. suna channels all his pining into award-winning books and osamu has never read any of them. the pining is top-tier in this.

moonsick m. 7.8k. fwb to lovers in suna's pov. is it really a sunaosa fic without one of them being emotionally constipated?

in the mood for love m. 8.3k. friends to exes to friends to lovers pipeline. i love the prose and osamu's thoughtful narration.

Litany in Which Certain Words Are Said t. 10.9k. 5 times osamu says "i love you" and 1 time suna says it back. oohh the yearning in this is top-tier!

a type of hunger m. 9.1k. i love the exploration of suna's hunger in this as an athlete and feeling like he's falling behind. good thing osamu is there for him <3

An Inconvenient Espionage e. 26.6k. 5/5. side sakuatsu. spy au, assholes to lovers. good action, good spy work, good tension 👀

somewhere to lay the flowers t. 25.6k. i've read a healthy amount of bastigod's works and trans suna has me in a chokehold. i also love magical realism and the mythology in this was woven wonderfully. suna's daughter is also a delight!

iwaoi

stumble into the sun e. 3.6k words of iwaizumi discovering that oikawa has a praise kink. it's also very soft and lovely.

Press '1' to Get a Call From Your Drunk Best Friend t. 5.4k. a drunk iwaizumi spills about his love and appreciation for oikawa. it's hilarious and fluffy and one of my favorites <3

HIPS DON'T LIE e. 8.1k. iwaizumi overhears girls talk about how good oikawa is in bed and is given a live demonstration from the man, himself.

i wanna ruin our friendship t. 18/18. oikawa comes to terms that he's in love with his best friend. features heavy themes, read the chapter warnings before proceeding. there's a happy ending!

bokuaka

Tell Me, Eurydice (How Could I Not?) t. 6.3k. lovely prose from akaashi's perspective about bokuto becoming captain and the idea of akaashi being his vice captain.

hoot if you've heard this one before t. 5.2k. bokuto and akaashi lose contact and find each other in university at a cafe that akaashi owns. lovely reconciliation fic and relationship recovery.

papers (the special, laminated ones) t. 5.3k. bokuto's parents have a tradition of laminating all his special papers and he isn't allowed to get them until "he's ready." i loved how sweet and fluffy this was, especially with his relationship with akaashi <3

Spaces aren’t Voids 7.2k. bokuto had every intention to propose until he lost the ring. a very fun and fluffy fic of a marriage proposal that doesn't quite go through but things go well in the end.

To Have and to Rail e. 12.4k. this is more humor than smut about akaashi's scientific exploration to match bokuto's stamina in bed. it doesn't go as well as he hopes (of course. good luck, akaashi)

onigiri miya: brand ambassadors (applications closed) g. 4k. bokuto is kinda slightly jealous of how close akaashi is to osamu because he's obsessed with onigiri miya. hinata feels the same way with kageyama. so what do they do? become brand ambassadors for osamu. absolutely hilarious and fluffy!

Kiss Me (Like You Wanna Be Loved) e. 56.6k. 27/27. oh the pipeline of strangers to roommates to fwb to lovers, i love it so. equal parts hurt/comfort, fluff, with the perfect amount of nsfw.

kagehina

soft serve t. 9.6k. hinata and kageyama drive an ice cream truck to fundraise money for karasuno's volleyball club. that's it, that's the fic.

Meme of the Day g. 4k. kageyama accidentally turns hinata into a meme. very fluffy and cute!

miscellaneous

yachi hitoka stop being so relatable challenge t. 4.1k. i loved this exploration of yachi being known and getting closer with the karasuno boys. she's such a precious cinnamon roll <3

north is everywhere. t. 12.1k. an exploration of kiyoko's development through high school, from being a manager out of obligation to continuing out of choice. also ace rep!

summer rolling down a cheek gen. 13.2k. a beautiful character study of kenma after the spring tournament as he thinks about the future and what comes next. beautiful prose and introspection.

[nanna-mi]

That TikTok thread but make it with random character in a spy!au saving you and jumping from a building.

Promise no to drop me ? - you felt his grip tighten on your waist, his eyes tracing your lips, quickly moving his gaze locking with yours. " only a fool would drop a girl like you"

MIYA ATSUMU, KUROO TETSURO, Jean Kirstein, Gojo Satoru, IWAIZUMI HAJIME ( but make him your personal bodyguard (undercover) ) Tengen Uzui, TOJI FUSHIGURU, Hawks, KAKASHI HATAKE, SHANKS, Nanami, ZORO (can you imagine the smirk ?)

[lou-struck]

A Peaceful Project

Hajime Iwaizumi  x reader

Flufftober Day 11

WC: 1.4k

~You bought a few beginner crochet kits from the airport's gift shop to wait out your long layover, while traveling with your Fiancé and the Pro- Volleyball team he works for. 

What a sight your group must be amidst the usual airport crowd. The Japan National Volleyball Team mostly stands tall in their all-red warm-up uniforms they have elected to travel in for their flight home from an International Volleyball tournament. You would never tell them this, but the group looks a bit like a cult. 

Due to hazardous weather, the flight home has been delayed for at least another twelve hours, and it is quite amusing to see how these top athletes deal with the stale stench of boredom that wafts throughout the gate.

Between the rows of leather-backed seats, you spy the muscled form of your Fiance, who busies himself with adjusting the athletic tape of Tobio Kagyama’s fingers, but you can tell by Hajime’s tight smile he is thankful to be wearing his normal clothes.

“How much longer do we have to sit hereeee?” Shoyo Hinata whines, squirming in his seat. The redhead has never been good at staying in one place, so this must be agonizing for him.

“A while,” you reply, feeling pity for the man. “Maybe you could go check out the airport and get yourself some food.”

At the mention of a meal, he brightens up exponentially and looks at you with wide eyes. “There’s food here?”

“Yeah, idiot,” Kageyama says, walking over to the two of you, flexing his freshly taped fingers. “Why would we be stuck in a place like this without something to eat?”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Crappyama,” the smaller man responds, childishly sticking out his tongue at the setter. He turns his attention to you nicely. “Wanna go with me since Iwaizumi is busy?”

You smile warmly at him and shake your head. “Thank you for asking, but I’ll wait for him to get done.”

“Oh, okay,” he says before turning to the setter. “Let’s go get something to eat.”

“Why me?” Kageyama asks, looking surprised. 

“Because you’re always grumpy when you’re hungry.” the redhead says before zipping away down the terminal. 

“I’m not grumpy!” The dark-haired man calls, sprinting after him. 

You laugh as they disappear out of sight, and you hear a deep chuckling behind you. Turning your head, you see Hajime walking over to you. 

“There goes our entertainment.” he laughs, leaning over you in your seat. His large hand slips under your chin and tilts it upwards so that he can give you a proper kiss. “How you doing, baby?”

“Better now,” you hum, enjoying his attention. While you are glad that you were able to join him on this trip, you definitely haven’t gotten to spend as much time with him as you would’ve liked. Between tending to the player’s injuries and providing nutritional advice for the team’s meals, he has made a lot of overtime pay these last few days. “How many players do you have to do treatments on?”

His face falls, and he glances back at the queue of men standing behind him. There are at least a dozen players in need of treatment. The last few days were tough on them, and there was no shortage of injuries. “I’ll be at least another hour,” he sighs. “I’m sorry.”

Your comforting touch finds his bicep, and you give it a reassuring little squeeze. “Hey, it’s alright. I can just get a book or something from that little shop over there, and then we can go and get something together.”

He looks between you and the ‘Go Mart’ a few yards away before giving you a tired yet heartfelt smile. “You would really do that for me?”

“You know I’d do just about anything for you,” you laugh, reaching into your backpack and pulling out your wallet to pay for whatever kind of overpriced airport entertainment you are about to get for yourself.

“Thanks, baby,” he says, helping you to your feet. “I’ll go as fast as I can, I promise.” With quick steps, he walks back over to his empty row of seats that he has cleared out for his athletic training purposes and starts barking directions at the men waiting in line. “You’re next, Miya, sit down and let me see that damn wrist of yours.”

Leaving your suitcase in the safety of your party, you step into the little shop. Walking past the rack of keychains and shot glasses with various city names and other last-minute travel gifts, people get when they forget to buy them on their travels to the back of the store. The wall of mass-market paperbacks looks down on you. 

You are just about to reach for a cheesy-sounding romance novel until something catches your eye. Your head turns to give yourself a better look, and you see a little rack of arts and crafts kits, including some paint-by-numbers coloring books and ‘Beginner-Friendly’ crochet kits. 

The little pouches have adorable little crochet animal pictures on the front, including a little green lizard guy and a purple penguin. It may not be a book, but these little kits look like just the thing you need to make it through this layover. 

You scoop the light packages off their hooks and bring them to the counter, not bothering to look at the obscenely high price they have. 

It will hurt less to just ignore the charge on your credit card completely…

~

The gift shop bag sways to and fro as you walk back to where your group is supposed to be. Your gate has become practically empty save for your Fiance, who diligently watches the luggage with his arms crossed. 

“Where’s the rest of your line?” you ask, noting the absence of the volleyball players. 

“They got hungry and left.” he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “We should’ve just gotten food when we had the chance.”

“So now you’re on suitcase duty?” you ask, plopping down in the seat next to him.

“Until they come back, I guess we are stuck here.” He spots the bag in your hand and peaks into it. “That doesn’t look like a book.” 

“Nope,” you say brightly, taking the kits out of the plastic and showing them to him. “I got us a project.”

“Crocheting?” he asks, reading the label. 

“The package says it’s for beginners, so I think the two of us can figure it out together,” you say, tossing him the lizard. “Go make a mini Godzilla.”

“That’s just a Lizard,” he chuckles. 

You roll your eyes and open the package of your purple penguin. “It could be a Mini Godzilla.” you hum. 

He smiles just for you and opens the package, taking out the yarn, the crochet hook, and, most importantly, the instructions. “Let’s see what this is all about then.”

Within minutes, you guys are hooked…

As much as you love talking to each other, you are dead silent as your eyes scan the instructions and your project. And despite the hustle and bustle of the airport around you, you feel remarkably peaceful. 

Thirty minutes go by before you say anything. “How is it going?” you ask, not taking your eyes off the little penguin bottom you have crafted. 

“Good,” he says, short and sweet. No doubt thriving in the comfortable silence the two of you have created for yourselves.

“Good.” you parrot, looking at the yard strand between your fingers and admiring the long chain you have formed. You may not know what you have to do after this step, but you’ll find out when you get there.

“Hey, we’re back,” Hinata calls, rushing back over to you two with Kageyama on his heels. “This airport is so cool. There’s a whole plane inside this garden thing and like a gazillion places to eat; when you go down there, make sure to,” he is cut off by an icy glare from your Fiance. 

“Shut up, I’m trying to concentrate.” Hajime hisses at the dynamic duo. “Unless you are injured or dying, leave us be.”

They look a bit taken aback at the Athletic Trainer’s outburst and look to you for any kind of comfort, but you are too engrossed in your project to give it to them.

“Sorry guys, I have a penguin to make.” you hum, looping another strand of violet yarn around your crochet hook. 

Neither of you has acknowledged it yet, but whoever finishes their project first won’t have to pay for their meal.

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network @eussstasss

[causenessus]

binary stars

part 0.05. intros. GROUP COUNSELING HOURS

NOW FEATURING...

THE STAR AND HER PLANETS ‧₊˚✩彡

y/n l/n .°˖✧

manager of the seijoh volleyball team after she quit playing in secondary school to focus on her studies and because she did not appreciate the radioactive energy of the girls' volleyball team. grew up alongside tooru and hajime due to proximity and their shared love for volleyball. now co-parents the boys’ volleyball team alongside hajime as she tries to convince herself that what she feels for tooru is just platonic </3 - her private is where she gets a little silly or tries to cope w her feelings - tooru used to be on it but after he accidentally leaked a photo she had posted on it, he lost his privilege (in his defense he thought she looked stunning and didn't see the point of sharing it with only like, 7 people but it was over for him) - currently allowed to see her private: seijoh 4 minus tooru and her group featured below <3

FEATURING...

kiyoko shimizu & sugawara koushi .°˖✧

shimizu

karasuno’s volleyball manager. shimizu first met y/n when they were both starting out as managers in their first years. they bonded during that time together, taking notes during a match together and then exchanging numbers to keep in contact. suga came a little later but ever since then, the three have been close friends. if y/n co-parents seijoh’s volleyball team with hajime, shimizu and suga co-parent y/n. shoyo noticed how much they cared for y/n and wanted to be apart of the family too <3

suga

setter, pinch server, and karasuno's vice captain. he’s not even entirely sure how exactly he and shimizu became co-parents for y/n. he definitely gets multiple evil stares burning into the back of his skull from karasuno’s third years + tanaka and noya but he wouldn’t give up his bond with either managers for anything. along with kiyoko, they give y/n advice on everything she’s going through and are always there to support her <3

FEATURING...

kuroo tetsuro & hinata shoyo .°˖✧

kuroo

captain of nekoma’s volleyball team which is currently manager-less </3 as a result, since they're close to seijoh, if they really need a manager, y/n helps out if she can. over time, she grew closer to kuroo who also hung around with tooru a lot. kuroo views her as a little sister which is why he works along iwa as a double spy ❤️ is also besties with bokuto who has somehow been looped into this trip (he’s not complaining)

shoyo

aspiring ace !! karasuno’s tiny giant <3 wing spiker, and 50% of the weirdo duo. like bokuto, was lowkey looped into whatever this solar system is but he’s also not complaining. he kinda let himself in because he was upset that he was left out whenever shimizu and suga started talking. then, in his first match with seijoh, he realized who they were always talking about. he introduced himself when he saw suga and shimizu talking with y/n who immediately adopted him - also means that he does not get added to the gc until after karasuno's first practice match w/ seijoh </3

not featured:

iwaizumi hajime </3

a price he must pay as a double spy along with kuroo. haji’s known tooru and y/n since forever so it’s to be expected that he hears both sides but he can’t be in two places at once. he was glad when kuroo entered the picture because he could be sent to take care of y/n while haji sat through tooru’s woes. the two then share information and scheme, just like kiyoko and suga. the four sometimes all share ideas and worst comes to worst, makki and mattsun also join. haji also sees y/n as a little sister and would give her anything (snacks from a vending machine or gas station) <3

full picture sugawara's using to make fun of shoyo bc everything hates me </3

m.list | next

[gatitties]

'Love' confession

Manager Miniseries

─Aoba Josai x fem!reader

─Summary: you were just trying to help and the team seems to be at the wrong time to hear something stupid

─Warnings: none

11 < 12 > 13

"I'm serious! (Nn) is in love with me."

"What makes you think that, shittikawa?"

The captain acted offended, no one on his team believed that their manager was secretly madly in love with him, they had never seen you express any kind of romantic interest in someone before.

"Who wouldn't fall in love with me?"

"Surely a lot of people..."

Kunimi whispered, vaguely wiping the sweat from his forehead, grabbing his gym bag, glancing sideways as Kindaichi finished changing.

"Besides, remember that she didn't even know you before entering the club."

"Matsukawa is right."

"Of course... but since I'm irresistible, it was inevitable that she fell in love with me."

Iwaizumi punch him again and he complained, insisting that you were crazy in love for him. He was so persistent that ended up convincing them to secretly spy on you, since today was Monday they wouldn't have trainning before lunch, so they would have that time to keep an eye on you.

You always tried to keep a low profile, you were always late, trying not to let anyone notice you enough, you didn't have many friends considered close, but at least you had some trust with your classmates. Since you were very carefree, you didn't mind helping someone who asked, that's why your classmates constantly ask you for some favors, of course they knew when would ask for these, because if you weren't in the mood or were too tired you would politely deny them. And that was exactly what you were doing right now; a favor to a classmate.

"(N) you say it as if it were easy."

"It is?"

You shrugged, stretching out your arms, letting out a yawn, lunchtime was always your nap time to catch up on the sleep you missed at night.

"Could you do it again?"

"Whatever..." you sighed to get into the role of a crazy lover, changing your expression to a more animated one as well as the tone of your voice to a softer one "Oikawa, I love you! would you go out with me?"

There were a few seconds of silence, the girl seemed to analyze the tone of voice, the expression and the gestures that you had made.

"It's just a silly confession of love, don't break your head too much about it."

"It still looks so easy! Surely when you are in front of him you will freeze."

The team who were listening to the conversation from behind the scenes went blank when they heard you two talk about confessing to Oikawa.

"Was that idiot right?"

"I don't believe that (N) is in love with you."

"Yeah, she doesn't deserve that shit."

"You all are so mean"

He complained but everyone fell silent when they saw how you left the classroom, they hid better to continue listening.

"What? I wouldn't freeze confessing."

"Then try to do it."

"What's the point of that? It's you who is in love."

"Aw come on, you can't deny that you like him a little, plus you can always say it was a joke or something… I don't even have the confidence to get close to him."

You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose, you didn't want to be the one to break her illusion, but if she needed you to do it first to give her courage, it wasn't a big deal for you.

The boys were totally speechless, of everyone who could fall in love with Oikawa, did it have to be you? They had grown fond of you and appreciated your small gestures even though you were carefree most of the time, and Oikawa's streak of breakups didn't leave him in a good light.

They wouldn't want a crush to spoil your team relationship because of the captain, even Oikawa was stunned, he had suspicions but this was beyond what he thought and he didn't know how to feel about it.

At lunchtime, minutes later when everyone was in the dining room, you arrived as usual later after a little nap, everyone tensed up when you sat down at the table, you seemed unaware of the environment, too focused on your food, only looked up when you finished eating. You narrowed your eyes to see how everyone was looking at you, then remembered that you had to 'confess', yes you had forgotten.

"Ah, Oikawa I have to tell you something." now the looks were more intense, but you paid attention to the fact that the girl from before was stunned to see how you said it casually as if you were greeting someone "I love you, would you go out with me?"

The team seemed to have died, almost as if their spirits flew above their bodies, before anyone could react, you raised your thumbs in the direction where your classmate.

"(Nn) I-I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I think we're not ready for a relationship, I'm not sure about my feelings right now..."

He dramatically placed one hand on his chest and the other on his forehead, blinking several times, you put on a flat face, erasing all false acting expression.

"Yeah... about that I don't really love you, it was only to teach her how she should confess, a silly dare too."

You pointed out to the second year girl that had asked the favor, that now she was a little embarrassed. When they listened to you, the spirits of the team returned to their bodies, relieved, it already sounded very strange that you were in love with Oikawa.

"So you don't like Oikawa?"

"But we heard-!"

"You should listen better or analyze the context of conversations and not spy on people in the first place."

Their souls came out of their bodies again, embarrassed because despite their attempts, they were caught red-handed, although you didn't care much, seeing their horrified faces at they thought that you liked their captain was incredible besides the complaints from Oikawa for being 'rejected' in a certain way.

[audinosaur]

seijoh road trip ¡!

(bc i’m on a super long car ride right now)

let’s start with seating arrangements (assume they’re in an suv or something bc those maniacs would not be able to fit in anything small) 

iwaizumi’s driving (i don’t think this needs an explanation) 

matsukawa’s in the passengers seat. always. he’s the oldest sibling so therefore the front seat is his god-given right, sitting in the back is just too foreign for him

(he’d also put together a pretty nice playlist for the trip let’s be honest) 

kindaichi’s also usually a front seater (when he drives w his family), but with anyone else he prefers the very back row. it’s nice and secluded :)

plus he always sits next to kunimi, and kunimi needs the seclusion

speaking of needs, yahaba gets car sick ridiculously easy, so he needs to be next to a window so he can have easy vomiting access

like actually, the slightest bump or turn will make him throw up. 

watari’s right there next to him (he’s the only one sane enough & versatile enough to handle being in the very center of everything)

oikawa’s sitting behind iwaizumi, partially to be a helpful navigator and partially to annoy the fuck outta him

makki’s in the third row. i don’t have much to say about this, he’s just chill. you could put him on the hood of the car and he’d be all “this is cool man”

kyoutani’s in the trunk lol

he’s a trunk guy?? he’d sit back there with his dog and enjoy being away from everyone (plus he kinda hates the feel of seatbelts, they’re too constrictive)

(“that’s kind of the fucking point kyou”)

(“you are literally turning green go puke your guts out yahaba”)

hanamaki is the king of snacks. chips? he’s got em. chocolates? he’s got em. cookies? he’s got em. that boys bag is the equivalent to mary poppins’, the snacks just keep coming

funnily enough he can never remember to bring a phone charger

(chargers are kunimi’s department) 

kunimi’s blasting music/white noise/anything into his earbuds the entire ride. he NEEDS his shit to be charged because he’s not about to listen to people talking (read: arguing) for hours on end

kindaichi’s always the one who had to go to the bathroom immediately after they leave the rest stop

“why didn’t you go back there??”

“I DIDN’T HAVE TO GO THEN-”  

when everyone falls asleep iwaizumi likes to listen to true crime podcasts

the only thing is, watari is physically incapable of falling asleep in cars (i am projecting) so he just has to listen in horror as a narrator describes the most gruesome, bloody murders he’s ever heard

they accidentally left kindaichi behind once at a gas station (it was only for 5 minutes, but he sobbed uncontrollably)

after that they made sure to do a head count at every stop

every half hour oikawa will get bored and make them all play games like i spy, 20 questions, truth or dare (mostly truths), etc. 

cue kyouhaba crawling over the seats to beat the shit out of each other during punch buggy

kunimi’s splayed over kindaichi for half of the trip

so hanamaki will be having a conversation with kindaichi and trying so hard to ignore the fact that kunimi’s head is in his lap and the former is combing his fingers through the latters hair 

oikawa switches out to drive so that iwaizumi can sleep for a bit, but ends up screaming at some dumb crap another car did and is banned from the wheel (road rage oikawa supremacy!)

kyoutani’s the “are we there yet?” person. every ten minutes he’ll ask how much longer until they stop

when they do stop, he’ll just go run a lap or two. then come back ten times happier than before, he just needs to stretch his legs !!

mattsun will look up fun facts about each place they visit to entertain everyone :) he’ll be very “dad”-ish about it, like “woaahh, listen to this kids” and “jeez louise that’s a cool little nugget of information”

(we need more dorky matsukawa he’s a total fucking nerd sometimes)

he likes to recline his seat all the way back just to piss yahaba off (he moves it back upright but only after making the second year say please)

yahaba practically falls to the ground when they pull over at rest stops. everyone will go get food/water and pee and he’ll still be kneeling on the pavement holding his stomach when they get back

(when i said the guy gets car sick i MEANT CAR SICK)

in between podcast episodes, iwaizumi will look back at all his sleeping teammates (and a mortified watari) and just think about how much he loves his friends :)) 

[wttcsms]

this trope's got a little kick to it, sleepover event ;

one    intro in celebration of the upcoming new year & the fact that i desperately want to give you all the content you crave, i am hosting an impromptu sleepover event that closes on jan. 1!!!

two    about this event tropes are so fun & i have so many faves. considering the fact that you follow my blog and (im assuming here) that you enjoy my writing, i figured that you all would have similar preferences as me. but, doing "enemies to lovers", "friends to lovers", "oh no there's only one bed", etc. seems too plain and simple. we are doing oddly specific tropes that wttcsms pulled out of her ass and thought "this sounds like a good pairing"

three    how to participate — choose a trope from the list — choose a character from any of these fandoms: hq, bnha, aot, jjk, blue lock, cod — send me an ask with the character & trope, and get ready to receive your drabble x

four    tropes — "i bet on losing dogs" x the losing dog — the closed wound x the bleeding heart — on a road trip with your ex — ghost who needs help passing to the afterlife x reluctant person who does not want to help but is currently cursed and helping this ghost is the only way to lift it — knife to the throat but the blade can't seem to cut this weird sexual tension we've got going on — ex-thief trying to live a straight & narrow life x their original partner who drags them back in for one big heist — getting person a to do something ridiculous because they owe person b a favor — when person a realizes they're in love with person b, but instead of it being cute and generating butterflies, their internal monologue is disgust and shame — person a who thinks person b is in love with them and p.a. tries to actively avoid p.b. because they think they're trying to confess their love, but p.b. keeps trying to get them alone to explain that it's not p.a. they like, but p.a.'s best friend — wrong number, right person — royal who thinks they're picking a safe option as their betrothed x the betrothed who is actually an undercover spy working for the very kingdom that wants to kill the royal — drunken confessions — party game that results in the beginning of a relationship — kissing as a distraction to avoid being caught — the invisible string theory (or: 5 times you almost met each other + the 1 time you do) — sunshine x midnight rain — when the rebound is your ex's brother — grumpy tenured professor x new, sunshine-y associate professor — womanizer x maneater — love story told in untraditional format (ex: voicemails, email exchanges, hinge dms, twitter beef, etc.)

five    current requests — on a road trip with your ex, megumi fushiguro — womanizer x maneater, satoru gojo — grumpy prof x sunshine prof, naoya zenin — when ur royal betrothed is ur backstabber, katsuki bakugo — rebound is ex's brother, eren yeager — sunshine x midnight rain, toji fushiguro — party game, shinsuke kita — kissing as a distraction, levi ackerman — shame over the realization you love him, satoru gojo — knife to the throat, megumi fushiguro — closed wound x bleeding heart, yuuji itadori — when ur royal betrothed is ur backstabber, kento nanami — i bet on losing dogs x the losing dog, kento nanami — wrong number, right person, hajime iwaizumi — i bet on losing dogs x the losing dog, armin arlert — love story told in untraditional format, dabi — when ur royal betrothed is ur backstabber, tooru oikawa — invisible string theory, kiyoomi sakusa — drunken confessions, hiromi higuruma — womanizer x maneater, michael kaiser — closed wound x bleeding heart, simon riley

[toonabby]

Happy (late) 50th birthday, Hiroyuki Yoshino!

Characters pictured above from left to right:

Firo Prochainezo (Todd Haberkorn)* from Baccano!

Yuusuke Fujisaki from Sket Dance

Ozu from The Tatami Galaxy

Solf J. Kimblee (Eric Vale) from Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood

Favaro Leone (Ian Sinclair) from Rage of Bahamut: Genesis

Hajime Iwaizumi (Benjamin McLaughlin) from Haikyuu!!

Yuuto Kido (Seth Leslie/Lucien Dodge/Bryce Papenbrook) from Inazuma Eleven

Allelujah Haptism (Richard Ian Cox) from Mobile Suit Gundam 00

Franky Franklin (Anthony Bowling) from Spy x Family

Yasutomo Arakita from Yowamushi Pedal

Takumi Nishijou (Todd Haberkorn)* from Chaos;Head

Hizashi Yamada AKA Present Mic (Dave Trosko/Sonny Strait) from My Hero Academia

Heisuke Toudou (Greg Ayres [anime only]) from Hakuoki

Okada Izō from Fate Grand/Order

Heishi Otomaru from Norn9

Debito (Jay Hickman)* from La storia della Arcana Famiglia

* = Shared roles i.e. Characters with the same Japanese and English VAs

Characters not pictured: (in order of release year)

Mamoru Oikawa (Steve Bednarz) from Boogiepop Phantom

Hibiki Tokai (Tony Oliver) from Vandread

Ginta from Inuyasha

Rin Hirakoba from The Prince of Tennis

Bernard Firestar (Jay Hickman)* from Divergence Eve

Chrome from Cluster Edge

Kai Miyagusuku (Ben Diskin) from Blood+

Yoshimori Sumimura (Vic Mignogna) from Kekkaishi

Yuji Kagura from Tona-Gura!

Natsuki Minami from Minami-ke

Kenichi Saruyama (Greg Cote) from To Love Ru

Gozumaru (Jason Wishnov) from Nura: Rise of the Yokai Clan

Houka Inumata (Steve Staley) from Kill la Kill

Meow (Joel McDonald) from Space Dandy

Galina from Yatterman Night

[watmels]

Shiratorizawa’s Spy (p.49)

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masterlist

[heich0e]

QUESTION‼️‼️ In your fic 4play, I spied that Iwaizumi has a crush on reader. Did I spy correctly?

to me you are 007

[astrowaffles]

That whole “childhood friends” thing

General Audiences | Attempt at humour, iwaoi being telepathic

Iwaizumi and Oikawa are never apart. So much so, that if they ever have work in different groups, they can have conversations just with their eyebrows. And if they're in different classes, Makki is 100% convinced they have conversations using telepathy instead. 

Why is this a problem, you ask? Well. Makki can never ever prank either of them, because at least one of them already knows. Once he set up a prank without either of them knowing; Oikawa comes into the gym, sees it, doesn't say anything except "Is that for Iwa?" and giggling.

Iwaizumi came in through the back door that day. "I just had a feeling someone was trying to prank me."

They weren't just attached at the hip, they were attached at the mind, and Makki was going to prove it.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa had known each other their entire lives.

Well, they claimed to not be able to remember meeting each other or beginning their friendship. They had a class together, and - as elementary students do - they made friends with everyone in the class. Fate must have been smiling down on them, because they weren't seperated for the entirety of elementary and by then they were best friends, lived in each other's houses, shared clothes (and mothers), and had a weekly movie night where they slapped each other until one of them gave in and let the other put on his favourite movie. 

As far as Makki knows, that still happens. Not just the movie night. All of it.

And, honestly, he definitely doesn't want to know what else they spend their time doing. All he knows is that if he ever calls or texts either of them, the other one is always right there. (In fact, Oikawa usually replies to Iwaizumi's texts for him. He must do, because Iwaizumi definitely would not text with kaomojis and does not refer to himself as "Iwa-chan").

Which brings us onto the problem: Iwaizumi and Oikawa are never apart. So much so, that if they ever have work in different groups, they can have conversations just with their eyebrows. And if they're in different classes, Makki is 100% convinced they have conversations using telepathy instead. 

Why is this a problem, you ask? Well. Makki can never ever prank either of them, because at least one of them already knows. Once he set up a prank without either of them knowing; Oikawa comes into the gym, sees it, doesn't say anything except "Is that for Iwa?" and giggling.

Iwaizumi came in through the back door that day. "I was halfway here, and then I got the feeling that someone was trying to prank me, so I used this door." 

Makki had nearly screamed with frustration, and Mattsun had had to drag him away before he accused Oikawa of spoiling the surprise, even though Oikawa hadn't even attempted to text anyone.

They were so obviously in tune, sympatico, completely and utterly in harmony. They weren't just attached at the hip, they were attached at the mind, and Makki was going to prove it. 

  "So, just to review," Mattsun was saying, reaching over to take a sausage octopus from Makki's bento, "You think that our lovely captain is telepathically connected to the vice, and you're going to collect evidence. And then what?"

"Confront them."

"....Why?"

"Does it not seem unfair to us, dearest Mattsun, that the gruesome twosome have a superpower that the rest of the team - and the world - are not privy to? Should they not, therefore, tell us of this ability, and use it for the good of Seijoh?"

"Don't talk like that, it's creepy. And while I don't think that's your actual reasoning, it's good enough for now."

An expectant silence from Makki, then a sigh of defeat from Mattsun.

"Alright, but if we're going to do this, we have to do it right."

"In what way?"

Mattsun grinned, and Makki was suddenly reminded why they were best friends. "We have to spy on them."

  It was simply a fact of life that if Oikawa was somewhere, so was Iwaizumi. Makki figured that if he followed the fangirl squeals he'd find Oikawa, no problem, and then it would be easy to find Iwaizumi since he'd be right there (probably in the shadows, glaring at anyone who got too close. He was a bit protective sometimes, even Oikawa admitted). Enlisting Mattsun's help had been a good idea, because even though they were both tall and lanky and giggly and possibly the worst spies on the planet, four ears were better than two. Not only that, but Oikawa would be head and shoulders above the crowd which meant it should be easy to spot the captain. 

Makki was swivelling his head (which, to be fair, was also above the crowd) to see if either Iwaizumi or Oikawa was around when Mattsun tapped his arm. "Over there," he whispered, gesturing towards the vending machine, where Iwaizumi was punching in an order and Oikawa was making pathetic, half-hearted attempts at shooing away his fanclub. 

"That's not Oikawa's usual order," Makki observed, watching Iwaizumi hand Oikawa the peach tea he'd just pulled out of the machine. Oikawa had stuck a hand out for it without even looking, and Iwaizumi shoved it into the open palm.

"Thank you, Iwa~" he was sing-songing, then he looked at it and frowned. 

"Here we go," Mattsun said, expression gleeful. "He's not gonna be happy."

Oikawa threw the tea back at Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. Oikawa nodded, looking sheepish. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, and opened the tea. 

And then handed it back. 

Oikawa took a sip. "Thank youuuu!"

"He couldn't open the bottle," Makki wheezed, turning to leave. Mattsun stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. 

"Hanamaki," he said seriously. "That was some proper evidence."

"How?"

"Did Oikawa ever actually say he couldn't open it?"

Makki felt his eyes widening. "....No...."

"In fact, did Oikawa ever even say he wanted peach tea instead of his usual melon?"

"Oh my god," Makki's voice was a whisper. "Are they actually telepathic?"

Mattsun shrugged. "Only time will tell."

"I don't want time to tell, I want Makki to tell. And I want Makki to tell sometime today."

"Well, I guess we'll have to keep an eye out," Mattsun sighed as the bell went. "Come on, we don't want to be run over by the stampede." 

Makki eyed Oikawa's fanclub, which was beginning to file out of the hallway. "You're right. Let's wait 'till practice."

"We don't have practice today."

Makki huffed. "Fine. We'll just have to follow them home."

Mattsun laughed, reaching out to cuff Makki's shoulder. "Good one," he giggled, wiping a tear from his eye. "Oh, man, you could be a comedian or something."

Makki stared at him. "I'm not joking."

Mattsun stopped laughing, and then let his arm drop. "Dude."

"Dude."

"Dude."

"..............Fine."

   They were a few streets from the school and still a while away from both Oikawa and Iwaizumi's houses when it occurred to Makki that he wasn't really getting anywhere.

It probably shouldn't surprise Makki that Oikawa and Iwaizumi call each other by their first names. After all, what kind of person knows someone for their entire life and only calls them by their last name? Plus, even Makki called all his elementary friends by their first name. It's just how it was. 

It does, however, give rise to a hilarious scene in Makki's mind where, at some point between ages five and fifteen, either Iwaizumi or Oikawa decided they were too grown up for showing affection and demanded they began to use last names in public. (It was almost definitely Iwaizumi, if Oikawa's cutesy Iwa-chan~'s where anything to go by). It also gives rise to a very confused Makki and Mattsun trying to keep track of who's who, because yes they know their friend's names and no they've never heard anyone say them out loud, and it was just a bit disorientating.  Not only that, but full sentences also seemed to be a thing only for the public. Once they were alone, they apparently had whole conversations that went something like:

"You know the thing?"

"With the whatsit?"

"Yeah, that. Do you think Mad Dog-?"

A pause, then raucous laughter. Iwaizumi flopped over and put his hands on his knees in a recovery position. Oikawa started slapping his friend's back while wheezing. 

"Oh my god," Iwaizumi gasped between laughs, "That's-that's so-"

"I know!" 

Mattsun raised his eyebrows at Makki. "That's definitely some kind of telepathy."

They watched as Iwaizumi straightened up and Oikawa slung an arm over his shoulder. "Sleepover?"

"Who's turn is it?"

"Yours."

Iwaizumi sighed, but didn't shrug Oikawa off. "I wanted to see Hanako, though."

Oikawa screeched and withdrew his arm like it was burned. "How dare you, Hajime, that's my-"

"I know," Iwaizumi nodded. "She calls me Haji-kun."

Oikawa scowled. "We're going to your house."

"Do you want to-?"

"Obviously."

"Can I-"

"No you can not, you know I-"

"I was kidding, Tooru! Jeez, chill."

They meandered off, but Makki made no effort to follow them further down the street. They turned the corner and wandered away, Oikawa's arm back over Iwaizumi's shoulder, Iwaizumi cackling at something Oikawa had just said. 

"Well I discovered several new things today," Makki observed, standing up from his cramped position behind a bush. Mattsun stood up too. 

"One thing being that Iwaizumi actually thinks Oikawa is funny," he said, bemused. 

"Yeah, I didn't mean that. I meant that they didn't speak in full sentences."

"And are we gonna talk about them having their own language?"

"Oh yeah," Makki remembered their almost nonsensical greeting when they met outside the school gates to go home. "I wonder when they came up with that?"

"I doubt even they know."

"Well, did this prove that they're telepathic? No. So I don't know where to go from here."

"You could just....ask them?"

".....I was going to say that's stupid, but it's actually really smart. Let's do it tomorrow."

Mattsun nodded and stretched. "Can I go home now? My calves are killing me."

"Sure, but be ready for a morning practice interrogation."

"Should I bring my desk lamp?" was the joke, but Makki dipped his hand into his pocket and brought out a torch.

"Nah. I'll use this."

"Hanamaki Takahiro, you are one crazy bastard."

"Oh," Makki ducked his head, embarrassed. "Thank you."

   Morning practice dawned bright and daunting, as Makki rolled out of bed, down the stairs, through the kitchen and then down the road to Seijoh. Oikawa, as per, was already sitting expectantly on a bench; a sleepy Iwaizumi was nodding off on his shoulder. 

"Rise and shine, Iwa-chan," Makki teased, cuffing Iwaizumi's head as he passed.

"Don't call me that."

"Why not?"

"Because it's mine, Makki," Oikawa said pointedly. Makki mimed zipping his lips, anxious to avoid any extra flying fall laps.

"Hi ho, Silver!" Mattsun greeted. "Are we ready to party this fine evening?" 

"It's the morning, Mattsun," Oikawa reminded him, and then clapped. "Since we're all here, we can get started!"

"We're not all here," Makki objected, pointing to the empty gym. Washio was stepping through the door with a cheery wave, Yahaba a step behind. The first years, Kyoutani, and the rest of the second strings were all still ... somewhere else, who knows where.

"Everyone is here who I want here at this current moment," Oikawa sighed, like it should have been obvious. He poked Iwaizumi's cheek. "Sit up, Iwa-chan, I have things to say."

Iwaizumi grumbled and hoisted himself upright. Oikawa stood up. 

"What is it?" Mattsun enquired, sitting on the gym floor with the air of someone who isn't at all interested in what anyone else had to say. "It better not be about uniform designs again."

"Rude," Oikawa huffed. "That one was important. Anyway, it's not about that so don't worry."

"What's it about, then?" Makki joined Mattsun on the floor.

"It's about the fact that you've been staring at Oikawa and me for the past week," Iwaizumi interrupted. He'd tipped his head back to lean it on the wall and his eyes were still closed. "He even made me get up and come to practice early just so we could catch you."

"You could have caught us after practice," Mattsun pointed out. "And the past week? I've only known about it for a day."

"Week," Oikawa confirmed. "And I know I'm irresistible, but really, Makki. Keep it in your pants."

"I don't think you're irresistible!" Makki objected. "I think you're telepathic."

Silence.

"......Have you been hearing my voice in your head?" Oikawa giggled. "Wow, you really do think I'm irresistible."

"No!" Makki fake-gagged for emphasis. "I think you and Iwaizumi can talk to each other telepathically."

Oikawa paused. Iwaizumi opened his eyes. Eye contact. Iwaizumi looked like he was tempted to throw something, Oikawa looked smug.

"We can't," Iwaizumi said. Oikawa pouted. 

"We totally can, Iwa! You just have to believe in yourself."

"You have never in your life been able to read my mind."

"That's what you think!"

"That's what I know."

"Then why are you thinking 'agedashi tofu' right now?"

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. "Because you didn't let me eat breakfast, maybe? Doesn't take a genius."

"Alright then, I bet you know what I'm thinking now."

"Probably 'what can I force myself to think of that Iwaizumi would guess'. You're not subtle."

Oikawa beamed, and turned to Makki. "You were right! We must be telepathic. Thank you for your contribution. Now do an extra lap of flying falls."

Makki groaned, not moving from his spot on the floor.

Iwaizumi came over and kicked him gently. "Get moving, #2, before he comes up with something evil for all of us to do. And for the record?"

"Hm?"

"Me and Kawa?"

"Yeah?"

"We're telepathic."

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