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enterpris · 1 month

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Trials and Games

Pairing: Reader x Gojo

Summary: After training your whole life and making it to the Olympic Games, you are finally able to compete with the most elite athletes from around the world

You finish your event and are looking to celebrate- with the help of a handsome, white haired athlete of course

Warnings: Bad flirting, bj, fingering, v*aginal sex

Length:

Ao3: PlaidSparrow

Gojo's leaning on the table behind you.

“Hey, you didn’t mention that you’d finished your event yesterday! Congrats on the gold.” He give you a rakish smile.

“Yeah, everything’s been kind of a blur honestly. I’m glad to have it over with though. Is it difficult having your event at the end of the games?”

“Nah, it leaves plenty of time before the event to check out the competition and get some more training in. Plus, it also gives me time for some extracurriculars,” he looks you up and down again.

Maybe it’s the high that’s leftover from the winning, but there’s something intoxicating about being desired so blatantly. If he doesn’t think some casual sex will throw him off his game for the event, you’d be more than happy to take advantage of his advances.

“I happen to be looking for some extracurriculars myself. I think we could find something to do together.” You return a flirty smile of your own.

“Oh perfect! You’re good at swimming, too, right? I've been wanting to get in the pool and do some laps, it's a great full body workout.”

If it weren't for the glimmer in his eye when he says it, you'd probably assume you had completely misread his interest. As it is, it seems Gojo is interested in verbal sparring as foreplay.

“There’s plenty of ways to workout the whole body. But I’m happy to show you the training pools.”

He seems to be pleased with your answer, that you’re willing to play.

“Oh you're bold, huh? Maybe after the pool we can try out one of those other ways. What do you say we put some work on?” His smile is radiant.

“Well they did hand me like 30 condoms, I wouldn’t mind using them,” you shoot back.

“I bet we could do some damage to one of our cardboard beds. Tomorrow then?” The accompanying finger guns are equally dorky and charming.

“Yeah, sounds good.” You give him a quick wave and set off towards your building- gotta make sure the room will be empty tomorrow. ~*~

You’d spent the morning in one of the training pools warming up, swimming some laps and showing Satoru the training building allocated to aquatic events, then returned to your respective buildings in the village to freshen up. You shower and thank your past self for deciding to live a little while you’re at the Games.

Watching the way Satoru’s body moved in the pool, pulling muscles tight and his face flush to catch his breath, thinking of all you'd like to do with him, was an hours-long exercise in self control. You’d like to touch his skin, be the reason his cheeks are pink and breath is short.

You wait for him outside your building, absorbing the sunlight that filters through the branches of the trees. A few moments later, you lead Satoru back to your (empty) room on the third floor. For all of his talk, Gojo is surprisingly non-initiatory when you walk into your room.

He looks around at the slightly messy room- there’s luggage on your floor and the unpacked clothes hanging on the back of your door- before looking back at you. In your defense, there’s been a lot going on, and pretty much everything is more interesting than unpacking the different uniform options.

You raise an eyebrow, and Satoru shrugs back at you.

“Just thought I should know a little more about you before we dive right in.” He smiles at you impishly, and it ignites your need for him even more. You take a single step towards him.

“Is there anything else you’d like to know?”

“I think there’s a lot I’d like to learn about.”

You take another step towards him.

“Let me show you then.”

Satoru waits for you to take the last step between you, bringing you nearly face to face. He’s taller than you are, and he looks at you heatedly for a moment.

You stare into his dark eyes for a moment and your heart is already beating faster. Then the tension snaps. He pulls your body to his own, and you can feel the firm muscles of his chest through the thin uniform shirt. He’s exuding heat, and as he brings his lips to yours for an open-mouthed kiss. Satoru’s lips are soft but insistent, and he sensually runs his tongue along your own. He tastes just slightly of mint, fresh and a little sweet.

His strong arms are still pressing you into his chest, and you maneuver one of your hands under the fabric of his shirt. His skin is burning there, and his abs flex when you press your hands against him. The wet heat of his mouth on your own intensifies your own want, pulsing through every inch of your body.

You break the kiss and peel the shirt off, revealing his superb body once again. The small room is filled with your pants, catching up on breaths lost to each other, and you admire his physique. He’s got incredible definition, and you can tell the muscles have been built up for strength and power, not just looks. Under the bright shirt he's pale everywhere, an expanse of clear skin and fine hair trailing down the v of his hips.

“Like what ya see?”

Satoru puts his hands on his hips and then jokingly poses, flexing his arms and then turning to give you another angle. He’s stockier than you had originally thought, but is lithe and light on his feet. It’s easy to see how he could out-maneuver an opponent, and you’re halfway hopeful he’ll be able to take you down in a similar way.

“I do.”

Your eyes are hooded as you watch him preen. Satoru continues to peacock until you corral him toward the bed. His own hands find their way under your shirt, skirting around your bra. His fingers are thick and rough from his own training, they're pleasantly coarse on your own smooth skin.

It's starting to feel uncomfortably warm in the small room, and you're ready to divest yourself off some of your clothing. You help him tug off your top, and he immediately palms your breasts, your nipples already peaked under the thin lace.

He leans down to kiss you again and you run your hands over his torso. His warm hands continue circling your nipples and he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. When you reach the waistband of his shorts, he groans into your mouth and you can taste his neediness.

You're up against the low mattress now, and you push Gojo to a sitting position. The small cardboard bed frame doesn’t give you much to work with, but slowly, teasingly, you get onto your knees before him, placing open mouthed kisses down his chest and stomach before painstakingly pulling his trousers and underwear to the floor.

His cock is flushed and smacks against his stomach, already beaded with pre-come.

“Just a sec” Gojo reaches down and pulls a condom out of a pocket in his shorts. “I know you said you had plenty, but it seemed more gentlemanly to bring my own.”

Then he bites the package open and easily slides the rubber down the what of his cock. He tilts his head and pumps himself a couple times.

You grasp him and replace his hands with your own, maintaining the steady rhythm he had begun. Achingly slowly, you lower your lips to his member. You take just the tip into your mouth, and his cock jumps.

The taste of the latex isn't your favorite, but as you take more of Satoru into your mouth, his breath hitches and you can feel him grow even harder. You explore him with your tongue, running over the veins, and with your hands, one closed over the base of his shaft while the other cups his balls.

You continue bobbing your head, slowly increasing the speed and you can feel his cock pulse in your mouth.

There are spots of pink on his cheeks as you look up at him. You maintain eye contact as you dip back down to the base of his cock and slowly pull back up. Gojo leans his head back and sighs as you push your tongue along the thick vein on the base of his shaft. “Jesus.”

His legs are tense now, and the movements of his hand are erratic as he cups the back of your head. HIs breaths are coming faster now and he’s watching every one of your movements carefully. You flick the tip of your tongue across the head and then descend again. You can’t quite take all of him into your mouth, so you manage what you can and then suck gently.

Satoru sighs above you.

Knowing that you've got him on the edge of coming leaves you breathless and wanton. You can already feel the slickness between your thighs.

Before you can do any more, Satoru gently moves his hand to your jaw and lifts you off of himself. He pants a couple beats and then partially rises, allowing you to join him on the bed. Before you recline he slips your shorts off, leaving you in only your matching lace underwear.

He takes your prior place on the floor and traces his hands up the defined muscles of your legs, lingering on the bulk of your quads and calves, and his eyes sinful in their appreciation of your physique. He spreads your legs farther.

“God, do all divers have legs as delicious as yours?”

His blue eyes linger on the valley where your legs meet as his fingers find their way to the top of your lacey underwear.

“Maybe all Olypian divers do.”

You’d meant to be a little flirty and teasing, but it comes out breathier than you meant when he runs the pad of his thumb over the fabric. It’s already soaked, you know, and his first touch slides deliciously against you.

“I dunno, I think what you’ve got is special.”

He strokes you again, licks his lips, and then returns his hands to the top of the underwear, slowly sliding them down and exposing you. Once the garment is out of the way, He runs his finger across your bare sex, gliding easily through your folds.

You inhale sharply and he locks eyes with you as he slides a finger into your dripping pussy. His eyes are aflame and his attention is glued to you as he slowly pumps into you, watching for any change in reaction. He adds another finger, stretching you just slightly.

Besides your heavy breathing, the only other noise in the room is the lewd swash of his fingers pumping in and out of you. When he lightly rests his thumb on your clit you jerk, and when he begins to rub soft circles on it you moan.

Your eyes flutter shut to absorb the sensation, but you realize that you miss the intensity of Satoru's eyes on you. You look back down at him, and trace his body as he continues to touch you, cataloging the way his abs clench when he pants out breaths and how his cock twitches.

Knowing he's so hard and ready for you pushes you closer to the edge, your legs tense with the prospect of release. Satoru analyzes your responses with the keen eye he would turn to an opponent, but he's not looking for an opportunity to pin you, but to bring your pleasure wide open.

Satoru nips your bottom lip, moves his other hand to unclasp the bra behind your back. Now uninhibited, he palms the breast in his huge hand then rolls your nipple.

The pleasure in your body is fluid, rising and pooling between your legs. You pulse around Satoru’s fingers and a moan slips out. He keeps his fingers deep inside you and the thumb on your clit moving steadily, it's enough for the waves of pleasure to break over you.

Your vision whites out for a moment and then your whole body is liquid, melting in the aftershock of one of the most intense orgasms you've had in a while.

Gojo looks down at you, pleased, then climbs back into the bed next to you. He lets you continue to catch your breath laying down, but drapes your legs over his thighs as he rests back on his haunches. The position will give him plenty of access to your body.

“Is this ok?”

You nod, and then he lines up his cock to your entrance.

The first couple thrusts are shallow, as he watches your breasts bounce every time he pumps into your slick cunt. The position affords you quite the view too- the exertion has left Satoru with a sheen of sweat on his skin and a pleasing pink On his chest that wasn't there when you started.

He grips your hips now and pulls himself deeper, increasing the rhythm between your bodies. This angle is reaching deep within you and building a mounting pressure that could build you back to another peak.

Clearly the training you've each done for your sports is paying off in the bedroom too- your appetite for Gojo is voracious and he seems to have plenty of stamina.

Watching him pump his hips languidly, his cock disappearing into you, you reach down and hold his wrists where he's clinging to your hips, taut and aching.

Using the leverage from your handle on Satoru’s arms, you lift yourself to meet each thrust. The extra pressure of your weight on his arms doesn't seem to bother Gojo, if anything, his soft moans seem to get more frequent the more you touch him and use him to chase your pleasure.

“I want you like this,” Satoru groans and then unfolds his legs, resting his forearms on each side of your head and bringing you nearly face to face.

As you adjust he pushes the hair out of his face, which displays the long line of muscle down his bicep and torso. The modem disrupts the roll of his hips into your own for a moment, but he's quick to resume.

Now you're close enough to taste him- you lick a stripe up his corded neck, relishing the salt of the sweat you've put there, before whispering in his ear.

“I’m close again.”

The words galvanize him, and Satoru crushes his lips to yours, messy and lustful and frantic.

“What do you need?” His voice is breathier now.

“Keep this pace, God, you're so deep.”

He nods and glances down your body, then licks his thumb and returns it to your clit.

He circles the nub again, but his motions are disjointed and jerky now. You can tell he's close to his own high.

“Come first one more time, you got a gold, chase this too.”

You shatter for the second time, pulsing around Gojo, who's buried deep. His steady pace starts to feast and he ruts into whole biting his lip before he comes apart with a sigh.

The two of you share another kiss and gulp in air, then Satoru pulls himself out of you and nimbly climbs off the bed. Instead of feeling spent from your prior orgasms, you're left invigorated. You breathe deeply and can hear Gojo tie off the condom.

Is it narcissistic if remembering the elation of winning sends you over the edge? Gojo's lips on your ear certainly helped, and either way you're grateful for the second high.

You look back up at him when you feel the mattress shift under his weight.

“So, you ready for round two?”

#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #saturo gojo x reader #gojo satoru #you and Gojo are both athletes in this #this flopped on Ao3 but it's cute so I'm posting it here :)#Olympics fanfic

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heyitstaytay21 · 17 hours

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With AO3's log in issues I had to enter my password manually for the first time in years and there's nothing to give you war flashbacks like having to type out a ship name from a fandom you have long since buried in your deep dark past to really make you rethink your life choices

#ao3 #fanfiction #the way i used to be so deeply entrenched in band rpf makes me cringe so hard now #there was no reason for me to be researching every single detail of those mens lives #i was the cringiest of cringe #BUT I never tweeted fanfic shit at the real people. that shits rude af #don't try to involve real actors/musicians/athletes in ypur fandom. thats so violating

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iwaoiness · 11 months

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Orbit return

to not know who i am but still know that i'm good long as you're here with me

When they are eight years old and learn in class what the orbit and the planets and the stars and the universe are, Iwaizumi decides that on Oikawa's birthday he will no longer say happy birthday, but happy orbit return. It's funny, original, and the first time he does it, Oikawa is speechless; his jaw almost unhinges and his round, beady eyes widen like saucers. Then he lunges at Hajime, latching onto him like a koala bear. Iwaizumi screams at him, staggering as he wraps his little arms around him as best he can to keep them both from falling. Oikawa whispers thank you, Hajime-chan close to his ear, and Hajime feels a huge flip inside his chest, heat building up in his cheeks. He frowns, trying to conceal it, before whispering back you're welcome, dummy.

And it becomes a tradition. Every year, while the world congratulates Oikawa on his birthday, Iwaizumi congratulates him on his orbit return. He does it in person, gets the same koala hug (each year a little heavier), the same thank you, Hajime (at some point, Oikawa’s voice becomes deeper), and his heart gives the same leap within his chest (he eventually discovers it's not a medical pathology, but love). And when they are old enough to have social networks, he does it with photos as well.

Contrary to what he may appear to be, Iwaizumi actually enjoys taking pictures and posting them. His Instagram has an incredible aesthetic pattern (to Matsukawa and Hanamaki's surprise), with a polaroid or vintage filter that imbues them with nostalgia and timelessness, and sometimes he edits them for a subtle blur effect that encourages to look for the details hidden within. He alternates images of himself, friends and family with stunning angle shots of cityscapes, mountain landscapes, beaches at sunsets and sunrises. And in most of these images, constant and enduring as in Iwaizumi's own life, there is a small part of Oikawa (whether it's his backpack, his hand, his Star Wars socks, his hair, his glasses).

And every July 20, Tooru is the complete protagonist. The first photo he posts to congratulate him is one they take when they are 12 years old; the two of them are sitting next to each other in front of the full-length mirror in Tooru's sister's room. Oikawa’s smiling broadly at his reflection with a victory gesture, Hajime holding his mobile phone between them with one hand, smiling softly. Happy 12nd orbit return, Sillykawa.

The next one is at thirteen, this time, Oikawa alone, in Kitagawa Daiichi's gymnasium. He is lying face up, all sweaty and messy hair, but with an amused smile painted on his face, directed at Iwaizumi's IPhone camera. A Mikasa ball rests between his knees, his hands spread across his chest. Happy 13rd orbit return, Stupidkawa.

The next is at the age of fourteen. On one of Okinawa's beaches during the Oikawa-Iwaizumi's annual family trip, Tooru is underwater, leaning face down towards Hajime's new GoPro camera, his diving goggles covering half his face, his hair waving upwards, the static bubbles around his mouth curving into a wide grin, and his favourite swimming costume crammed with prints of all the Pokémon. In his hand, he holds a sea star, which he proudly shows. Happy 14th orbit return, Mermaidkawa.

The next one is fifteen years old. The two of them appear again, in a vertical selfie where each face occupies exactly half of the image. Their eyes, golden brown and moss green, at the same height. Pale skin and tanned skin contrasting with each other. Subtly wrinkled nose and upturned nose. Toothy smile and soft smile, inches apart. Happy 15th orbit return, Idiotkawa.

The next is at the age of sixteen. Oikawa sits in the cool shade of a tree on the hill where they went climbing, his back against the trunk and his fringes pulled back by a black headband. He holds a loaf of milk bread with both hands at lip level, and his round, glistening eyes behind his glasses look into the camera, crinkled at the sides by the smile. Happy 16th orbit return, Breadkawa.

The next one is seventeen years old. A volleyball net in the background, Oikawa's back, the one Iwaizumi has watched grow up all his life, in the foreground, sheathed in the Aoba Johsai shirt, this time, with the number one printed on it. Happy 17th orbit return, captain.

The next one is at the age of eighteen. This time it's just their hands, Tooru's and Hajime's, intertwined and somewhat blurred on the gear lever of Iwa-mum’s car. There is a silver ring gleaming on Oikawa's ring finger, another on Iwaizumi's. Happy 18th orbit return, babe.

The next one is at the age of nineteen. It is a photograph of another photograph that Iwaizumi is holding in one hand. The photograph is an old one, from when they were both nine years old. They are sitting on the porch (the same one in front of which Hajime is aligning the photograph perfectly with the landscape), their little legs just grazing the grass of Grandma Oikawa's house, each one holding a large slice of watermelon in their little hands. Hajime is puffy-cheeked from the fruit, head tilted towards Tooru's, who is laughing, a black seed stuck to his chin. Happy 19th orbit return, Toto. I miss u.

The next one is at the age of twenty. They are in front of the mirror in the cosy bathroom of Oikawa's small Argentinean flat, Iwaizumi standing, covering his face with his mobile phone, dressed only in the official sweatpants of the Argentinean men's volleyball team and an 85-kilogram Tooru hanging on him like a koala bear. Oikawa, dressed in old basketball shorts and all his strong back exposed (with some blue kinesiotape strips on his shoulders), hides his face in Iwa’s neck, the strands of his hair pointing in a thousand different directions, his strong legs wrapping around Iwaizumi's waist. Hajime's free arm effortlessly holds him, securely positioned under his backside. Happy 21st spin into orbit, Spoiltkawa.

The next is at the age of twenty-two. Tooru is sitting behind the low table in Hanamaki's flat, with a plastic crown full of artistic doodles (courtesy of the children at the kindergarten where Makki has started working) balanced on his head and a chocolate, banana and strawberry volleyball-shaped cake in front of him with the 27 candles lit (Mattsun and Hajime couldn't find a second number two candle in any of Miyagi's six fucking bazaars, so they bought a second number 7 because think of it as a long-term investment, by the time you're 27, we'll have the candles ready; the fact that they are single-use candles is just a small irrelevant detail). His eyes sparkled brighter and more golden than ever in the orange candlelight, his lips open in a wide smile that revealed his whitish, lined teeth, with those big palettes. Happy 22nd (or 27th lol) orbit return, Oldkawa.

The next one is at the age of twenty-three. They were only able to meet once that year, so Iwaizumi rescues one of the photographs they took at that time, on Takeru's birthday, with a costume theme because he was looking forward to it and wanted to turn fifteen as Spiderman. And it was precisely Takeru who took the picture of them, because Iwaizumi taught him and he is very good at it ("definitely, much better than your uncle", "I heard you, Iwa-chan!"). They appear shoulder to shoulder, arms crossed, Hajime disguised as Zoro (with the green suit completely unbuttoned at the bottom, showing his entire solid muscular torso, black military boots and three plastic katanas hanging from his waist; the black ribbon covering all his green dyed hair and the three shiny earrings hanging from his ear) and Oikawa disguised as Sanji (with the wine-coloured suit tight to his beauty body, the black shirt with the first buttons unbuttoned, a loosely tied white tie, the fringe falling over his eye and a fake cigarette dangling from his lips). Happy 23rd orbit return, Shitty cook.

The next is at the age of twenty-four. Oikawa, wearing an old Hajime shirt and blue boxer shorts, peers out from the bathroom doorframe, a frog-shaped headband tucking his hair back and an avocado-green mask covering his entire face. He gives the camera an amused grimace, his eyes squinting, nose gently wrinkled, cheeks puffed out and lips pursed as if he were blowing a kiss. Happy 24th orbit return, my pretty boy.

The next one is at the age of twenty-five. In a supermarket car park in Seville during a romantic getaway in Spain. Oikawa is sitting on the still-empty supermarket trolley, his legs bent because he is too tall. He is grinning from ear to ear under the baseball cap of Iwaizumi, whose hand is peeking over the edge of the photograph holding the handle of the trolley. Happy 25th orbit return, mi alma.

The next is at the age of twenty-six. Oikawa is deeply asleep between the sheets in Hajime's new flat in Shibuya. He is curled up on his stomach with one leg bent (because he is apparently against holding a single position when sleeping) his head hanging off the pillow and the thin sheet draped over his hips. He is wearing Iwaizumi's trainer's uniform shirt and has one of the most spectacular bedheads. Iwaizumi's hand is on his cheek, his thumb on the bone. Happy 26th orbit return, Tooru.

The most recent photo is the twenty-seven-year-old. Tooru appears happy, radiant, beautiful, and glorious sunder the stadium floodlights, his Argentinean national team shirt clinging to his torso with sweat, like the strands of his hair on his forehead; the skin around his eyes is subtly reddened by the explosion of emotions that brought him down in the middle of the court after scoring the winning point. He bites the gold medal they just won at the Olympics, his lips raised in a giant smile that he can't and won't wipe off. Happy 27th orbit return, my love. You have no idea how proud I’m of you.

...

u can find this and more on my ao3 🌻

#haikyuu!!#iwaizumi hajime #iwaoi #oikawa tooru #oikawa x iwaizumi #haikyuu #hq fluff #iwaizumi fluff #oikawa fluff #drabble #hq drabble #haikyuu drabble #iwaizumi has instagram #and posts a lot of photos #athletic trainer iwaizumi #pro volleyball oikawa #can someone do fanarts of this i beg u #fic on ao3

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mania-sama · 2 months

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if you need me, dear, i'm the same as i was

Homesick - Noah Kahan

➼ 02 - motherfuckers here still don't know they caught the boston bombers ❧ Information (Summary, Tags, Chapters) ❧ Previous Chapter ❧ Next Chapter ❧ Word Count: 2,593 ❧ Cross-posted from Archive of Our Own

[1 Missed Call at 3:43 PM] [1 Missed Call at 3:44 PM] [Issei] Is Oikawa okay [Issei] Are you okay [1 Missed Call at 3:47 PM] [Issei] Sorry youre probably busy. Call or text when you get the chance

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THE KING RETURNS!!! @walterwhitevans The Olympic gold volleyball match??? I’m horrified and confused what is going on??? 0 Resposts 0 Quotes 5 Likes 0 Bookmarks

madison @maplefalling4 Pretty sure Tooru Oikawa, the Argentina player who collapsed, had a heart attack. Nobody knows why or how because hes a healthy athlete. The physical trainer from Team Japan performed CPR on him. Don’t know what was going on with him after though. It looked like shock but I can’t be sure. 0 Reposts 0 Quotes 2 Likes 0 Bookmarks THE KING RETURNS!!! @walterwhitevans Ohh okay. I was just hate watching because the US got knocked out so early, I didn’t expect anything like this to happen? I hope they are both okay :( 0 Reposts 0 Quotes 1 Like 0 Bookmarks

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[Takahiro] issei and i saw everything live. are you okay?? we’re worried [1 Missed Call at 3:45 PM] [Takahiro] answer the phone [1 Missed Call at 3:49 PM] [1 Missed Call at 3:50 PM] [Takahiro] please hajime [1 Missed Call at 3:52 PM]

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[Video Thumbnail Description: A large volleyball court with male players kneeling on either side of the net. One man, an athletic trainer, is leaning over another man, a player, with his hands on the player’s chest.]

[Video Description: Six minutes and twelve seconds. Video starts. Two teams of men, separated by a net, play volleyball in a large arena. Two men commentate the game in English. The ball goes back and forth over the net. Eventually, one player jumps up for the set but spikes the ball instead. At the same time, an athletic trainer on the other side of the net runs onto the court. The commentators wildly exclaim. The trainer grabs the player and screams in Japanese. The player collapses into the trainer’s chest. They both go to the ground, where the trainer starts to perform chest compressions. Both teams kneel. The men and women on the sidelines move hurriedly. The trainer performs mouth-to-mouth, then chest compressions again. The commentators are quiet and confused. Paramedics arrive with equipment. The trainer performs mouth-to-mouth again. The trainer and the paramedics load the player on the stretcher. The trainer is approached and surrounded by the player’s team. The trainer leaves the team and heads to his own team. He looks at an object in his hand before putting it in his pocket. He joins the team. His knees buckle and hit the ground. His team surrounds him, shielding him from the view of the cameras at every angle. They guide the trainer out of the arena. The commentators speak confusedly. Video ends.]

Star volleyball athlete Toru Oikawa from Team Argentina suddenly collapses from heart attack, Team Japan athletic trainer performs CPR | NBC Sports NBC Sports Subscribe 10.6M views 17 Hours Ago #ToruOikawa #NBCSports #TeamArgentina #TeamJapan …More

4,681 Comments Add a comment…

@brentysolosonfn • 15h ago that shit was CRAZY. i can’t get over the fact that the JAPAN trainer saw it first and not anyone from the argentina staff. like don’t heart attack symptoms start showing weeks in advance? i know somebody from argentina is getting fired bruh 28.3K likes Reply 209 replies

@1brniyu • 13h ago Wow… A heart attack can really happen to anyone. I pray Oikawa has a swift recovery and can return to playing. He is a truly talented man. 38K likes Reply 300 replies

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[Takeru]¹ i know u haven’t talked in a really long time, but thank u for helping my uncle. idk what id do if he died [Takeru] thank you.

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farminginsparta reblogged blorbo-central blorbo-central okay i swear this isn’t a racism thing, but you know how the japan trainer had that freak out after doing cpr on oikawa? well, is it possible they knew each other before all this? like maybe they are friends or smth. he certainly didn’t react like that when his own team’s player fell. farminginsparta You can’t just assume all Japanese people know each other blorbo-central YOURE GONNA TELL ME I’M CRAZY??? i keep rewatching it and i’m getting more and more certain that they are friends or were friends or something more. that trainer had eyes on him from the MINUTE they stepped out onto court. and he was on the court before anyone else was to save him. AND he had that meltdown (when he should be perfectly fine to do cpr like that). i swear on my life and future babies that i’m right!!! farminginsparta This is pretty disrespectful to the people in the situation to speculate like that. He’s just had a heart attack and you’re concerned about his relationship with another man? And the athletic trainer may have just experienced his first life-or-death scenario. Typical Tumblr user behavior

#Have some decency #This is unbelievable but expected from the hellsite 74 notes

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[1 Missed Call at 6:00 PM] [1 New Voice Mail]

[Audio Description: Forty-seven seconds. A female voice politely asks for an interview. She leaves her contact details.]

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r/Olympics

u/LilacSweatshirts The Argentina Player and the Japan Athletic Trainer DO know each other (or at least did at one point) 9 Awards I’ve been seeing all the ruckus online about what happened during the Olympic volleyball gold matchup and got curious. I didn’t know anything about these people until now (I don’t really care about volleyball in general. I only ever turn on the Olympics for background noise, and I certainly didn’t see this incident occur live.) But because I apparently have little else to do with my time, I went on a deep dive.

I started with the Argentina player Oikawa Tooru first because I thought I might be able to find something about his past medical history that would cause a “sudden” heart attack like this. According to this interview from 2013, he states that he had a complex knee injury and corrective surgery during high school. He doesn’t feel any pain anymore in it unless he goes out of his way to “provoke it”. He also says that he wears eye contacts. I don’t know how bad his eyesight is, but from the photos I’ve found where he is wearing glasses, the lenses don’t seem to be insanely thick or anything. He’s been pretty open about his struggles and with mental health in recent years (this article is quite good. He reposts a lot of mental health awareness stuff on his socials too.) But there’s nothing about any heart problems, asthma, or even a history of drug or chemical abuse that could lead up to this problem. The heart attack seems to have come out of nowhere.

Because he talked about high school, I wanted to know where he went. I thought he was from Argentina and was just first or second generation, or had moved here when he was younger, like me (born in Argentina) to England, so I was curious to see if I would recognize the name of his school. Hey, maybe we even went to the same primary school! I didn’t know. Well, turns out he emigrated from Japan in 2013 and became naturalized as an Argentinian citizen in 2016 (he posted about it on Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook). Whatever posts he had from his life in Japan, he must have since deleted. Though his accounts are a few years older, his posts start pretty much the day he arrives in Argentina. He does have posts from 2016 with Hinata Shouyou, a player on Team Japan, since they apparently played beach volleyball together for a while in Brazil. He still likes some of Hinata’s tweets and posted a Tiktok with him a few days before the gold matchup, so I assume they are still friends. Unfortunately, Hinata doesn’t start posting on any socials until he meets Oikawa in Brazil (his first tweet literally says Oikawa made the account for him, and his Instagram post is the sun setting on the beach with Oikawa tagged) so I hit a dead end there.

Considering he’s an immigrant, I figured that if he was picked up by not only a pro team in Argentina but also the national team , he must’ve had some insane high school stats. That means lots of information should be floating around somewhere online. I found several articles on Japanese volleyball sites (never knew how popular the sport is over there until now) that talk about Oikawa’s feats. That’s how I found out he went to a high school called Aoba Johsai (also referred to as Seijoh). Their colours are teal and white, so it’s kind of iconic that he came to Argentina. I found this magazine² where he had a featured interview during his last year of high school. I translated all of it through Google, so I don’t know if everything I got was absolutely correct, but from what I gathered he really was crazy good. I also found a few uploaded volleyball matches. I won’t link them, but if you want to watch them, just go to Youtube and search “Aoba Johsai/Seijoh 2010-2013 Volleyball Tournament Matches”.

Since I got his high school and those articles, I was also able to get the names on his team’s roster. The only name that’s important to this topic though is Iwaizumi Hajime.

As some of you may already know (though most don’t), Iwaizumi Hajime is the athletic trainer for Team Japan who saved Oikawa Tooru’s life. From what I’ve been able to find, they did play together for every year of high school.

Then I got curious about Iwaizumi himself. He graduated at the same time as Oikawa, but he didn’t go to Argentina or anything. He actually went to Tohoku University as an undergrad, then went to grad school at the University of California in the States and interned under Utsui Takashi.³ This was actually pretty easy to track because he has two published dissertations regarding sports medicine. I skimmed the second one (because it’s in English) about how mental health can affect the physical health of athletes. It’s pretty good, honestly, especially for it being in his (presumably) second language. He’s a brilliant guy. After graduating and completing his internship, he worked as the primary athletic trainer for the pro volleyball team Tokyo Great Bears, then became the athletic trainer for Team Japan.

I haven’t been able to find them interacting with each other on social media at all. They both follow some of the same people, like the previously mentioned Hinata and Jose Blanco (volleyball coach for Team Argentina), but I think that’s simply by coincidence since they don’t follow each other. Curiously, Iwaizumi follows a good amount of people from his high school team still, but not Oikawa. He seems to be closer with the other third-year players based on his likes, responses, and reposts. But, Iwaizumi doesn’t post all that much on social media in general. His last post was on Instagram with a picture with Team Japan from a couple months back. He’s been tagged in a few photos and tweets from the players on various sites, and was in a Team Japan TikTok, but that’s pretty much it. Again, he has stuff with two of his high school teammates in his same year, but Oikawa is never talked about nor featured.

To tie this all back with the Olympics last night: It seems to me that many of those on Team Japan know Oikawa a little better than any of the other teams in the Olympics simply by chance; most of them played against him in high school. I seriously doubt Iwaizumi and Oikawa kept in contact since high school or were ever even closer than teammates/classmates. They probably don't even like each other (based on the social media situation.) But Iwaizumi is the only one who actually played with him in his formative years, so I guess that’s worth something. I imagine that saving someone you once knew as a teenager is a very harsh and traumatizing ordeal, no matter how long it’s been since you last saw them. Man, if I had to save one of my old classmates like that… Even the ones I didn’t like, I don’t know if I’d be able to sleep for a couple nights.

TL;DR: They played high school volleyball together, and I need a more social hobby.

Edit: Thanks so much for the gold! I saw that Kageyama Tobio (player for Team Japan) released a statement on his socials stating that he played with Oikawa in middle school. It’s been cool to see all the Japanese players wishing him well. Nothing from Iwaizumi, though. 409K upvotes 38.4k replies

u/WaxpoeticTome Batshit crazy behavior, but also very impressive. I expected nothing less from the Internet 36K upvotes 7.2K replies u/Jumbo_JC_L 1 Award They played together in middle school, too. https://www.kitagawadaiichi.org/championships/2008/volleyball/ 112K upvotes 10.1k replies

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[Keiji] Hey, if you ever want to talk, we can meet up or you can give me a call. No pressure if you don’t want to. Just want you to know that I’m here for you.

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teamargentina

[Image Description: A male volleyball player from Team Argentina lunging forward on a court. His face is tilted upward to the volleyball in the air. One arm is extended and his other is caught moving backward. He is ready to serve the ball. The edges of the image are faded to white.]

567,882 likes teamargentina Tooru Oikawa is a beloved player on our Men’s National Volleyball Team. After achieving the winning point in the final set and bringing home the gold medal for Team Argentina, he collapsed from a coronary heart spasm. He is recovering in the amazing care of the Olympic Village hospital staff. May we all congratulate him on winning gold and wish him a swift recovery. #TokyoOlympics View all 743 comments bryanverden0907 May God Save Him 🙏🏻🛐

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he’s recovering fine. please don’t make the trip up here. I’ll bring your son home. we will see you soon, I promise.

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[Video Description: Twenty-one seconds. Video starts. The camera is focused on a team of men in blue and white as they knock the volleyball over the net. It cuts to the team before the camera switches to the other side. They knock the volleyball over, and it cuts to the same team again. Two English announcers speak loudly over the muted audio of the game. The English announcers yell loudly in excitement at a play while the opposing team’s athletic trainer runs onto the court. It cuts to a close-up of the athletic trainer holding a player’s shoulders. It cuts again. The video darkens and blurs slightly. The audio silences and the sound of monitored heartbeats takes over loudly. The trainer presses down repeatedly on the player’s chest in slow motion. It cuts intermittently as he performs mouth-to-mouth. The heartbeat ends. The remaining sound is a heart monitor flatline. Video ends.]

mrblesnimop HE’LL BE OKAY GUYS TRUST (they are both so freaking attractive oh my god) #volleyball #vball #tokyolympics #2020olympics #oikawatooru #edit #olympicsedit #fyp Original Sound

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coco they are both SO attractive oh my god- 4h Reply 4.8k likes — View 800 replies

sasukesleftfoot They way I'd give myself a heart attack so that man would give me mouth to mouth ohhhh 1h Reply 3.9k likes — View 516 replies

¹ Originally, this was supposed to be Oikawa’s older sister. However, she is unnamed, and therefor does not get to be in this LMAO.

² In this magazine, u/LilacSweatshirts found out that Oikawa’s favorite food was milkbread, and his personal motto was: “If you’re gonna hit it, hit it ‘til it breaks.” They thought this was funny.

³ I don’t actually read the manga, so when I was skimming through the various Haikyuu Wikis, I interpreted his time in America during his 2nd year of higher education to mean he was touring the campus and doing interviews with his prospective internship boss rather than him actually attending the university itself. Thus, we have this fic with Iwaizumi attending for grad school rather than a regular undergrad program. This makes more sense to me with the way the American education system works.

Author's Note: i went back to the first chapter and changed how long it's been since oikawa and iwaizumi last spoke. it's eight years, not nine, because they graduated in 2013 and not 2012. i'm a fucking idiot.

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luminyxoxo · 10 months

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Meet-cute disguised under meet-ugly in which Miya Atsumu is a Volleyball journalist who’s notorious for his temper but also his high-quality works. He has only exclusively worked on the female league up until the grand game between Schweiden Adlers and MSBY Black Jackals.

His first, on court, encounter with rookie Opposite Hitter Sakusa Kiyoomi is when the athlete lunges towards him to save a ball and promptly breaks his laptop.

Cue, Atsumu being Atsumu and threatening Kiyoomi post-match while the athlete (poorly) attempts to placate the angry journalist.

(Since then, every time Atsumu has to cover the male league, he would somehow only focuses on Sakusa Kiyoomi. The whole league and everyone involved are absolutely exasperated, waiting for the two to grow a pair and start dating instead of being forced to witness the journalist and athlete fight/flirt.)

#ao3 author #fanfiction #sakuatsu #haikyuu!!#miya atsumu #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x atsumu #haikyuu fanfiction #i was watching a compilation of VB saves and i winced everytime the athlete crashes into tables with laptops so

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liesmyth · 6 months

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if i can add, the sheer number of fics of charles as the bottom or an omega would send that poor straight man to the hospital

I care less about that ngl because I think famous men getting twinkified and impregnated on ao3 is good for the environment and keeps them humble. It's feminism.

#ask #anonymous #rpf #<- for blacklist #besides. in this specific case. I guarantee that man has heard worse from all the thirsty italian gays sliding in his DMs #(kidding aside I'm an Old School YOU DON'T SHOW FIC TO PEOPLE INVOLVED! fan #who shuddered back when Graham Norton showed slash cherik fanart to James McAvoy #& would never post about anything rpf to twitter / tiktok / any algorithm based platform #...but listen... Some athletes could use the reality check of how GAY their homoerotic obsessions with teammates / rivals looks from the ou #Maybe AO3 would be therapeutic for them if they found it)

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peskyavs · 2 months

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you could be my bodyguard

Zijian Wang / Jordan Jimenez / The Athletic (x, x, x, x) / Chappell Roan, “California” / Jenny Slate, “Little Weirds” / Pierre Haessik

baby’s first bball web weave lol. is there anything more tragic than a sports husbands divorce? 🥲

p.s don’t know where at least half of these pics are from but saw some of them on @freethrows @unmanageably @its-always-silly-season and @8jib’s blogs so thank u all for ur service 🫡🫡

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akechi-if-he-slayed · 17 days

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if u think ao3 author curse isn’t real rest assured it WILL get you eventually. i posted a fic last night and was already getting ready to start a new one today and yk what happened !!! i was doing a box jump at wrestling practice after school and SPLIT MY SHIN OPEN

#im ngl ik it was mostly the adrenaline and shock but that was the closest i ever felt to dying #akechi nui saw all this happen from where he sat on my backpack in the corner of the weight room #i hate box jumps all my homies hate box jumps #my practice partner: do you at least want to go get ice at the trainer?#me: nah im fine lemme just catch my breath for a little #proceeds to see white as my shin gushes blood #ya dw i did go to the trainer. thank god there weren’t many other athletes there bc i was lwk hyperventilating #a student trainer had a shirt that said ‘old habits die screaming’ so i started rambling about how much i love t swift and the black dog #and how i was probably going to scream like she does in that song when the alcohol wipe goes on my cut #yahhh im fine though!!! trainer said it’s just gonna be really sore and bruised for the next few days #so no practice for me for 3-5 days :(#but at least it happened now and the middle of december (peak season) lol !!!#ao3 author curse #ao3 #closest i have ever come to passing out. idk how people faint on the regular without fear bc that shit was SCARY.

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aalyre · 3 days

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IM ALMOST DONE WITH THE OLYMPIC AU I PROMISE BUT I JUST STARTED UNI SO TIME IS NONEXISTENT RN

#should be out by the end of next week or the week after #sorry #blame school #marauders #james potter #lily evans #the idgaf olympics #olympic athletes jily #olympic au #olympic games #olympics #swimmer james potter #volleyball player lily evans #athletes jily #jily #fanfic #ao3

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eurydicees · 1 year

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walk of shame this and that well what about when you have to close the three dozen tabs you had open to do research for two paragraphs of a fanfic

#god. the things haikyuu and iwaoi do to me #i just closed a dozen tabs i was using for this fic #amongst them: the 2014-15 NCAA volleyball schedule. USC's academic calendar from spring 2015. an arg-pst time zone converter.#google search how to become an athletic trainer top results 1-6. USC majors list. USC schedule of classes. argentina serie a1 standings.#and more! coming to an ao3 search near you soon!#jesus christ. god .i feel absolutely deranged

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james-sunshine-potter · 1 year

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when i get home, i'm going to bury you...

READ ON AO3 (pretty please :*)

TW/ Vomitting, Death (we don’t see it happen), blood and morgues, smoking, driving under influence (it’s not someone we see or know)

James doesn’t think this could get any worse if he tried.

Like he isn’t even sure how it got to be like this.

It was meant to be a party for Evan’s 19th birthday. A house party which was meant to be a plain excuse to get wasted for a night and regret it in the morning.

James had been a part of the planning due to his (secret albeit) involvement with this friendship group, through Regulus. Mainly due to the fact he had money and a car to drive around town to collect party supplies. But also, regulus wanted him there… and who was he to say no to him?

Him and Regulus had been… a thing for a while now. It was official, absolutely. They had both confirmed it to each other, they were dating and theirs only. He thinks Regulus might be too jealous to anything but commitment, which James isn’t complaining about. The thing was not many people new. Regulus’ friend found out through an unfortunate accident (they weren’t even doing anything that explicit… they actually just missed it…), Barty doesn’t know what a secret means and suddenly Evan, Dorcas and Pandora knew. And because Dorcas knew, Marlene knew.

But for James and Regulus’ luck, Marlene wasn’t big enough to ignore a bribe (money… £120 to be exact, he paid for a tattoo and piercing), so the secret stopped spreading there.

The point was James had been dating Regulus for almost five months now, and Sirius had no idea. It wasn’t like James was never going to tell him, he was just waiting for the right time. He just doesn’t know when the right time was to tell Sirius he’s dating his little brother who he has a complicated relationship which James knew about. He couldn’t see that going well.

Especially since James was the person to properly start it. He started the flirting, the chase (he wasn’t being chased though) and he was the person who asked Regulus out for the first date. Everything else just happened, Regulus made sure nothing was accidental. Regulus was the one to want to keep in private at first, James would do anything regulus asked him to. He loved the privacy, and the intimacy which came with it. Every kiss was just for them, everything which happened behind closed doors was just for them. There were no expectations, no pressure. No one knew about what was happening with them. Regulus is so private that the people who do know barely know anything.

James is almost surprised it lasted this long. He isn’t complaining though. He can’t think of a time where he felt happier. Where he felt more loved.

It wasn’t hard keeping it from Sirius. Every hickey he had was from a one-night stand Sirius didn’t know about. All the flowers? From parents, Sirius never questioned that. Why would he? Love letters? Never seen, completely hidden to begin with. Days busy? Busy at the gym… or at work… or with family… or colleges at work are doing something afterwork and he was invited. He had an answer for everything. Every I was dotted and t’s crossed. Nothing was forgotten or left behind. Plus, Sirius is too oblivious to actually notice any true connection.

That’s how five months were able to happen before they found out.

And how did they find out? Because Barty doesn’t know what the word ‘secret’ means.

Barty who was drunk and probably high, with what James knew was circling the party, spilled the beans to an equally as intoxicated Sirius about how cute James and Regulus are as a couple.

And now they are here. Sirius has been screaming at James for so long, James is no longer tipsy like he was before. Thankfully, with how many people was at this party, the sheer quantity of alcohol and the volume of the music, not many people were aware of what was going on. Only the people watching.

“I can’t fucking believe you’d do this to me,” Sirius cursed for the fourth time, “My little brother, you’ve been fucking my little brother and you were dumb enough to think I wouldn’t care or find out…. How could you be that dumb James?!”

“What do you think happened, Sirius? He dumbly tripped and fell onto my dick; we are our own people!” Regulus snaps back, who has the ability to mindlessly argue with Sirius for hours.

“NO!” They roar, “I think James has jack shit going on in his head since he thought this was ever a good idea in the first place,” The slur to their words being drowned out by Lady Gaga from the other side of the wall.

“Sirius… there’s no need to be rude, you’ve even noticed that Regulus has been happier in the past months, this could be seen as a good thing,” Remus pulled Sirius back by the shoulder, trying to stop this, even though it doesn’t. Clearly already done with this.

James is too. In the twenty minutes of conversation, he’s barely got one word in. Sirius won’t shut up. James knew he was mad… maybe it’s this bad because they’re drunk. Sirius always picked fights drunk.

“I don’t care about being rude, I care about trust! How could betray me like this?”

“Oh my God Sirius, I didn’t do anything to you!” James snapped, sick of Sirius’ shit, “I don’t have some weird sick vendetta against you where I’d use your brother, and no this isn’t some sick joke, and no this isn’t some situationship which I’ll break off coldly once I get bored and no, I’m not dating your brother to make fun of him, which you so kindly think I would,”

James runs a hand through his hair, “I’m dating Regulus because I love him, and I love spending time with him… or I don’t know, he’s his own being and not your possession you give out like a toy,”

Sirius just scoffs, “I know I don’t possess him, but what I don’t like is keeping it from me in the first place and now rubbing it in my face,”

“Firstly, I was the person who didn’t want to tell you for so long, so if you’re going to be mad at someone for that, be mad at me… and secondly, we aren’t rubbing it in your face,” Regulus said with an impressive amount of patience, “If anything, you are… we’ve been begging you to shut up about it for 20 minutes now, I just want to enjoy this party, so does James… and Remus… and Peter, and surely you…”

Sirius has a disgusted look on their face, if James wasn’t so over this, he’d laugh, “Why didn’t you tell Remus, huh? Or Peter? Marlene knew, Dorcas knew, Barty, Evan and Pandora knew… what makes them so special?” Sirius turned around to try and get Remus and Peter involved but it was clear to everyone but them, that Sirius was fighting a losing battle.

“Pads, going to be real, I couldn’t give two shits who James shags, I thought I made that obvious,” Peter said bluntly before straight up leaving the conversation, walking back into the party.

“Yeah babe… they’re being safe, they’re happy and also, they haven’t been making me deal with any mess, I don’t care… I don’t think this is worth the energy you’re giving it,” Remus said calm and cooly, rubbing a caring hand down Sirius’ arm.

It doesn’t work, as they quick turn back to Regulus to have a sparing over who James belongs to and the betrayal of it all. James quickly focused on finding his own out.

Which came quickly. As if God heard his prayers.

It came in the form of a phone call. He always kept his phone on vibrate, because he’s just anxious if he didn’t. So due to his phone anxiety, he’s able to feel his phone vibrate in his back pocket as he starts to zone out from the conversation entirely.

He pulls his phone out to find ‘PRIVATE NUMBER’ displayed on the screen in bold letters.

Now, this could be a scam call about an alleged, albeit fake car accident he was in or an amazing out.

He takes his get of jail card.

“I’ve got to take this,” He abruptly says, bolting as he turns to leave Evan’s place, leaving the door open behind him.

He vaguely hears ‘YOU CAN’T GET OUT THIS THAT EASY JAMES, GET BACK HERE!’ but he ignores it by walking further down the street and answering the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this James Fleamont potter?” A serious voice come from over the phone. This couldn’t be a scam call cause otherwise how would they know his full name? Middle name included? “Yes, it is… who’s this?” James answered cautiously, slowing his steps.

“My name is Grace Taylor, and I’m calling from St. Mungo’s Hospital…” There’s a pause from the other side of the phone, it isn’t long, but it doesn’t make James feel good, “It says on my records on my records that you are an emergency contact for Fleamont and Euphemia Potter, is that true?”

“I am… yes,” A pit forms in James’ throat as he continues to walk down the street. He isn’t first on the emergency contact list for either his parents, rather the second behind each other for respective parent. If he’s getting asked for both, this can’t equal anything good.

“I’m sorry to inform you but there has been an accident involving Fleamont and Euphemia Potter,”

James stops dead in his tracks, completely unaware of where he was. Not caring if Sirius followed, or even caught up. He can hear them walking up the street.

“Sorry? An accident? What do you mean an accident? Are they okay? What’s… what’s happened?” James barely lets out a whisper.

“I’m sorry to say no, it was a car accident… we need you to come to hospital as soon as possible… to identify their bodies…” He’s sure she is still talking but there’s absolutely nothing going into his head. Car accident? His parents never drive, his mum doesn’t even have a licence. His dad has a car but doesn’t even take it out the garage half the time. They need to identify… he can barely think it. Bodies means dead. He wouldn’t need identify people, people with ids and records and the ability to confirm their own identity, but bodies mangled beyond recognition…

Fuck he’s going to be sick.

“James… you still there?” he manages to hear.

“Yeah… I’m coming now where… where do I need to go?” he can barely breathe.

“If you come to the accident and emergency entrance, you’ll find me and I’ll help you from there, I’m sorry about this, drive safe,”

James drops his phone as she hangs up. He can’t breathe, he can’t think, he can’t move.

This can’t be happening, it really can’t be happening, surely this isn’t actually happening, surely this seriously-

“If you think you could fake a phone call to get away from me, you’re even dumber I thought James!” Sirius starts on again. James doesn’t even turn to face them.

James doesn’t even answer.

“Oh, you’re a child now, not even going to give me answer… not going to look at me?” Sirius is being mean for the sake of picking a fight. They don’t even sound real, their words twisted and echoing through James’ head.

The only thought in his is ‘your parents are dead, mum’s dead, dad’s dead, they’re dead, they’re dead, mum and dad are dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, DEAD - ‘

James feels Sirius step closer to him. He doesn’t react.

“Real fucking mature James,” Sirius pushes James as they drunkenly speak.

And that… that does it. That tips James over the edge, as with no warning to anyone but him, he leans over himself, placing shaking hands onto even shakier thighs and vomits onto the pavement.

There’s a wave of reaction, none of them good but that doesn’t stop James from going again.

And again.

And again. Until there’s nothing left inside him, until he’s doing a weird mix of dry heaving and coughing. He doesn’t stand back though.

“Shit James, are you okay?” Regulus is suddenly by his side, magically. Adding to the stars he’s seeing. Placing strong hands-on weak arms, crouching down so he can meet James’ eyes.

“Hospital…” Is all that he manages out around the taste of vomit and poorly timed coughs.

“Hospital? What do you mean?” Regulus parrots back, understandably confused.

“Called… it was the hospital… I need to go to the hospital… now” James says, spaced out and feeling a little lost, as he stands up. Regulus catching him as he sways.

“You need to go to the hospital? Are you feeling sick?” Regulus immediately sounds terrified.

“No… parents there… hospital called…”

And really, that’s all he really had to say for Regulus to click. James, even in this spaced-out space, can see it click.

“Okay… okay I’m coming with you, Remus can you go back in and get him his keys and some water?” Regulus told Remus, leaving no room for arguments. Remus left without saying anything.

“Uhm you aren’t going to go with him Regulus,” Sirius says, dumbly thinking it’s a good time to speak, “If anyone should go with him it’s- “

He gets cut off by a sharp slap to the face. If James was more with it, he would reacted let alone cared. But he wasn’t, so he just watched.

“You have done more than enough tonight, you aren’t going anywhere with him,”

Regulus takes James’ hand and pulls him away.

James just follow.

-•-

James is sitting in some chair, in some corridor of some part of St. Mungo’s Hospital waiting for some mortician.

Turns out, the accident was worse than bad. It was horrible. Friday night was always their date night, they never missed it. They had gone to a new restaurant in London which a friend had recommended. They were taking a taxi back to the station when the taxi ran a red light, which caused a bus to crash into the back of the taxi.

They weren’t ones driving, but they were the ones killed.

The taxi driver they had was apparently high behind the wheel. If James hadn’t already thrown up everything previously, he would have again. What made it so much worse was that the driver wasn’t even hurt. Not a single scratch on his body. James could kill him. If he ever saw him, he could him for killing his parents. He’s not proud of it, but he could. He hopes the taxi drivers rots in prison.

He was just waiting for the mortician to come collect him, so he can do what he came here to do.

Regulus is sitting next to him, never have letting go of his hand. He sits there silent, like a saint. James worships him like he is one.

“I can’t remember when I spoke to them last,” James whispered. The silence is thick, it’s killing him. He needs to break it, by whatever means how.

“Sorry?” Regulus whispered back, obviously shocked by what James had said.

“I always call my mum on a Wednesday, we’ll talk for an hour about something… literally anything… then she’ll pass me over to dad, and we’ll talk money and work…” James paused and looked into Regulus’ eyes. His eyes could solve a million of James’ problems, and yet they couldn’t even scratch the surface on this one.

“I can’t remember if I called them or not,” James admitted, guilt in every word.

“I know you did… I walked in on it,” Regulus whispered, pressing a hot kiss onto James’ cheek. Sparking a small smile to bloom on James’ face.

“I’m not going to leave your side, you know that. I’ll be there with you the entire time… I’ll enter holding your hand and leave doing the same you understand?”

James nods, his eyes suddenly feeling wet. Regulus just kisses him.

They sit in silence for not much longer when mortician comes out, a man in a uniform behind him follows like a shadow, to conduct this. It was a borderline fight to let Regulus come in with him, something to do with him ‘not being an emergency number’ and ‘not being family with the victims’, but it ends with James refusing to do anything without him there.

Regulus comes in and stands by two lumps on metal tables face them. The morgue feels much worse than he could have ever prepared for. Drawers which hold bodies line the walls, there are supplies and knifes lining the walls. Everything feels so… dead. The lighting feels sickly. There’s no life, no pulse. It smells of antibac, sterile. Like the dead people never lived to begin with.

“Just tell me when you’re ready… just take your time,” the mortician says, clearly detached by the idea of having to identify bodies.

James just stands there and breathes, even though it feels like it isn’t getting there. He can’t feel anything, which he should care about, but he doesn't. He just doesn't. He can feel Regulus’ hand, but he can’t feel the warmth that comes with it. He can feel the softest touch of Regulus wrapping an arm around his waist, but he doesn't feel the support like he usually does.

He could stand here and avoid the inevitable until they decompose. He kind of wants too. Denial is the easiest way to live life. Something his dad would parrot on about on their weekly phone calls. ‘Just because you can avoid something, doesn’t you should… it doesn’t go away, it just comes back harder’.

He takes a deep breath, grips Regulus’ hand to the point he might break it and bites the bullet.

The mortician pulls back the cloth and his hand comes up to his mouth in a feeble attempt to muffle the sob that comes in result. He could cry a river at this point.

He confirms the identity, which triggers the officer to leave, along with the mortician leaving with a comment with giving them some space.

They’re barely recognizable, James only recognised through their wedding rings. Scratched and worn and loved. Shiny silver gone dull, chips in the once sparkling sapphire, chipped and bloody. His dad had it custom made for her, as it was her birthstone. He did it before he even had the money to actually afford it. He sold a watch and his car for it. He told him that story every wedding anniversary like he’d forget. They never took them off. No matter what.

Fifty years together, and they died together. They loved and died by each other’s side.

There’s poetry in that somewhere.

He let goes off Regulus’ hand and walks closer to them. And he just stands there. He doesn’t do anything. He wants to touch them. Hold their hand, move the hair out of their face, something. But he thinks his heart might stop if he does.

But there is one thing he wants to do.

“Could… could you get their wedding bands?” James whispered, gentle with his words, “I don’t want them to get lost…” Regulus does it without saying a word. He’s gentle as he lifts dead hands and slides rings off with ease, putting extra care not to touch anything he shouldn’t. He hands the rings to James and places his arm back where it was.

A part of James wants Regulus to leave, the stronger part of him thinks it might kill him. Lay bloody and dead with his parents. Bury himself six feet underground.

They stand there for what feels like hours, and Regulus doesn’t hesitate once. He hugs him when he breaks down, he whispers reassuring words that no matter what happens, he will not leave James’ side, even means getting into more fights with Sirius. That no matter what happens, he isn’t alone. And all James can think is he’s so thankful for a five-month secret relationship.

So when it's time to leave, James lets Regulus take him home.

James just follows.

-•-

It rained throughout the entire service and wake. It doesn’t stop James leaving halfway through for a smoke.

One of his mum’s friends from school, Minerva McGonagall, spoke the eulogy. It was a lovely speech.

The wake was at their home, James didn’t really have the energy to have it anywhere else.

He stepped out after half an hour, sick and overwhelmed of crowds and conversations and the overwhelming feeling of death. He hadn’t been back home in a while, too busy with work and university for it. It was something he’d say he would pop down at the weekend, surprise them with some flowers and an apology for not seeing them sooner and letting his mum be clingy with care until he went home the next day. Nothing in the house changed. His dad kept his golf clubs the same place, his mum read the same gardening magazines, the same photos of James lined the same wallpapered walls. 20 years of this house and it feels the exact same. He's just thankful he made some effort the week before, otherwise he didn’t know what he’d do. He took them to his favourite pub by the beach and paid. He would never be able to do that again.

He stood at the end of their drive, just letting the summer rain soak him through as he enjoyed the silence. No one is pestering him here, giving repetitive condolences and well wishes. He had tried on multiple occasions to step out, but someone always stopped him. Everyone thought he wouldn’t want a second alone for himself at his own parents’ wake.

And apparently, even now, standing the pouring rain, he won’t get the time he wants. As he hears the front door open, a quick blast of chatter getting loud before going muffled again.

He just wants to finish his cigarette in peace.

He turns around to see Sirius waltzing out with an umbrella which certainly isn’t his; it’s his dad’s golf umbrella.

“I’ve been looking for you for like half an hour…” Sirius puffed as he stood next to James.

“Well, you’ve found me,” he says before taking a drag from his cigarette.

“Mind if I pinch one?” Sirius asks, as he covers James with the umbrella.

James puffs out a cloud of smoke before pulling out his packet, and Sirius takes one. Lighting it with their own lighter.

They stand in silence as they smoke. He can only begin to imagine the lecture his mum would give him if she ever found out that he smokes. They never knew he smoked, either of them. He would have definitely found out if they did.

“I… I’m sorry,” Sirius says as James puts out his cigarette.

“Unless you’re about to reveal you secretly drive taxis, I’m not too sure what you’re apologizing for, mate,” James said kind of dryly, not really that interested in having a conversation.

“Well, lucky for you, or me, I don’t… my reaction to you dating Reg,” and fuck, James almost forgot about all that, he’s had some much to do that it completely slipped his mind till now, “I was rude, too rude… as much I’m not thrilled about the idea of you shagging my little brother, the stuff said stuff which was uncalled for,”.

“Am I hearing you admit that you were wrong?” James jabbed.

“Don’t expect to hear it ever again… it’s just…” Sirius sighs as they put out their cigarette on the wall next to James, “I guess in my head, all you two were doing was screwing, which never ends well…” Sirius turns to actually face James. James returns the favour.

“But it’s clear that you two really care for each other, I mean I’ve watched Regulus show you care and patience I wasn’t even aware he was able of doing,” Sirius commented.

“If you’re about to give me the big brother protective talk, save it for a day when it isn’t my parents wake,”

Sirius takes a deep breath, “Did they know? Effie and Monty?”

“No… well I never told them, but they also know, so I like to think they did,”

“You’re a good person James, I have no reason not to trust you, especially if my brother does,”

As if he knew he was being talked about, Regulus came out, ready to complain about James being soaking wet cause of the rain. Stuff about colds and ruined suits and ‘how dare you worry me like that! I thought you had down a runner!’.

James just kissed the saint that is Regulus Black and lead him inside.

James just followed.

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