#their MANAGER OR COACH (unsure) who got fired (also unsure) last year with the white hair who I cba to google was a RUDE WANKER though

[lotstradamus]

the image of manchester united being dumb lil shits at your hotel has very much made my evening, thank you. (though i am sure you do not feel the same on this being actually on the receiving end.)

omg I wasn’t allowed to talk about it when I worked there, and then when I left I just plain forgot because I have no cause or desire to think about football, but for your entertainment here is my personal favourite story SLASH NIGHTMARE that happened to me: 

the hotel is within walking distance of Old Trafford, so when Man Utd stayed before games they were sharing the hotel with four other floors all packed full of - if we were lucky - mostly oblivious fans. naturally, they arrived at the quietest possible time, through the back, and didn’t leave their floor. as front office staff we weren’t allowed, under pain of yell, to confirm the presence of Filthy Rich Twenty Year Old Pro Athletes in the building. Manchester Evening News posted pictures of them walking into the hotel, but if someone said ‘hey, so Man Utd are here?’ we had to be like ‘WHO???’ (after the first time they stayed, people started booking with us BECAUSE Man Utd did, which was why they eventually had to start sneaking in through the back, but I did once get to tell a little kid ‘No, sorry, Man United aren’t here, but tell your dad you should definitely be standing in reception at 9pm tonight’ and he got to meet Jesse Lingard and it was precious.) 

anyway, they brought their own security guards with them and posted them at either end of the corridor to make sure no one who shouldn’t be there snuck onto the floor, and DEFINITELY to make sure the players didn’t just come down into the reception in the middle of check-in time and walk straight into lobby full of Man Utd fans because they were told to GO DOWN THE EMERGENCY EXIT STAIRS AT THE END OF THE HALLWAY and they DID NOT LISTEN and were just like Haha, I’ll Get In The Lift ! Weeeee ! (this happened.) truly just epic dinguses. and BECAUSE they were Epic Dinguses, they would constantly call the front desk because they forget to pack a toothbrush or got locked out of their rooms. CONSTANTLY. one shift I talked to what felt like EVERY MEMBER OF THE 2018 TEAM on the GODDAMN PHONE. 

so one time, Ander Herrera (yes I had to google the roster) calls the desk from the massage room and says he was visiting someone else’s room and now he’s locked out of his. a regular degular occurrence; no cause for alarm. I said I would bring a new key up to the massage room for him. the ‘massage room’ was a really poncy name for what was basically a hotel room that housekeeping had taken the bed out of so they could set up their widdle massage tables, and the lock on the door was disabled so everyone could just wander in and out of it without needing a key. despite hearing the words ‘the massage room’ and saying the words ‘the massage room’ and, indeed, understanding the concept of a ‘massage room’, I DID NOT GRASP IT. I WAS TIRED, AND STRESSED, AND EVERY TIME I WENT TO THE FLOORS I HAD TO FIELD 478279 QUESTIONS FROM THE BAR STAFF ABOUT WHETHER I HAD BEEN TO A FOOTBALLER’S ROOM, AND I WAS JUST NOT FIRING ON ALL CYLINDERS.

I get up to the third floor, Foot Ball Habitat, and I’m like ‘hey security guard, Ander Herrera in 315 is locked out of his room, he asked if we could bring a new key to the massage room.’ and then I held out the key to the security guard, assuming that he would take it to The Massage Room. I was mistaken. idk if I was radiating I’m A Huge Professional Who Does Not Care About These Men energy or what, but he was just handwavingly like ‘no problem, you can take it down to him!’ and because I WAS a huge professional who did not care about these men, I TOOK IT TO THE STUPID MASSAGE(!) ROOM(!) MYSELF. 

I knock on the door. I hear ‘it’s open!’ I push the door open. and what am I greeted with? 

of course, I am greeting with the inner workings of A Massage Room!

there are two Manchester Utd players getting massages with tiny towels over their derrières. there are three more Manchester United players just hanging out, wearing tiny towels around their nèther règions. there is half fucking dressed Ander Herrera sitting on the sofa, waiting for his kèy. AND I HAD TO WALK INTO THAT HELLSCAPE AND GIVE THE MAN HIS KEY!!! 

listen: when I say my soul left my body, I am not exaggerating. I felt what only can be described as pure calm settle over me. my consciousness ollied THE FUCK out, and a customer service robot took over. I managed, through sheer force of will, to go totally blind. I have never IN MY LIFE been more professional. I don’t know if my face did anything other than turn freakishly blank, but I said ‘here’s your key’ and Ander Herrera said ‘thank you’ and I said ‘no worries’, and the customer service robot who was Ratatouilling my body got me the hell ass outta there. I even said thanks to the security guard who was partially responsible for the trauma I was currently living on my way past. he had no idea what had Happened To Me. 

I must have been slightly Gone behind the eyes still when I got back downstairs because the guys at the bar were like Uh, Are You Good? and when I relayed what had happened in what I’m sure was a completely normal voice they nearly cried. my front desk colleague wouldn’t let me answer the phone for the rest of the shift just in case nude football players needed anything else bringing to the massage room. (they did not.) when the general manager of the hotel came in on Monday morning he was like ‘sooooo I heard Man Utd gave you a strip tease?’ and I WASN’T. ALLOWED. TO TELL. ANYONE. 

to sum up: you literally never know WHAT is going to happen when you clock in for a shift at a hotel, and Ander Herrera if you’re reading this I hate your guts 

[hqcult]

PERFECT ## oikawa tooru

the air of perfection surrounding you makes him sick. you're worse than the geniuses he hates

. tw misogny, predatory behavior, smut, noncon/dubcon, slight dacryphilia, corruption kink, fingering . wc 1.2k

before his flight to argentina in a few months, oikawa made it a hobby to swing by his alma mater. 

iwa's too busy and he can't possibly bother his best friend when he's working so hard in college. so oikawa tooru goes alone. sometimes, he comes in early while the team's still there. maybe he'll even join matches for fun — coach irihata still has a soft spot for him, apparently. 

but most of the time he comes when the gym is empty; when there's an absence of the squeaking shoes and the ricocheting balls. it never fails to make his heart swell in nostalgia. ah, how he’ll miss this place terribly once he moves to argentina. 

something did change, though. 

oikawa wouldn't call it drastic but the first time he crashed their practice, he was all but pleasantly surprised to see the new aoba johsai manager. 

you were a pretty thing and the boys adore you a lot. you didn't look the type to apply as manager just to score an athlete boyfriend nor did you seem to have any other objective other than taking care of the team. oikawa can say as much because he could see how the new captain looks at you and the way you purposely try to keep things platonic. friendly. you don't let yahaba, or anyone in the team, go the extra mile for you.

and the fact that you can miraculously keep kyoutani in check is the cherry on top. while the said player is still rough around the edges, he learned how to listen to you and the last time kyoutani ever listened to anyone was months ago, when iwaizumi was still in the team. 

team morale is high when you're there to support them on the sidelines. in your white and turquoise tracksuit yet still managing to look attractive. yahaba's got quite the patience, if oikawa do say so himself. 

you were like some sort of goddess to them. it's sickening how dewy-eyed his ex-teammates would get whenever you smile and hand them their water bottles. it was too good to be true. you were too good to be true. there has got to be some sort of conspiracy behind this whole ordeal. 

"oikawa-san, i didn't think you'd be here at this hour."

he turns around at the sound of your voice. there you stood in casual clothes, hair tied up and face bare. with the harsh angles the moonlight created together with the poor lighting of the gym, you look normal. not an air of that perfection he’s always seen circulating around you. 

"how did you get in? only yahaba and i have the keys."

you saunter closer and it wasn't a wise move on your part. while you have aoba johsai as the same denominator, the alumnus was still practically a stranger. quick exchanges of acknowledgments aren't exactly sufficient to get to know someone. let alone be friends with. but you never once thought any of that. how naive.

he smiles as you finally stood next to him. you can't help the slight dread pool in your stomach at the sight of it. with his tall lean frame that can easily overpower you, the smile looked more ominous than friendly. 

"bold of you to assume i gave the keys back. why do you think shigeru had to duplicate them again for you?"

you didn't see it coming, the arm oikawa slings around your shoulders before pulling you flush against him. you would've lost your balance if you hadn't clutched the lapels of his coat. 

"can it be…" his plush lips graze the shell of your ear as he whispers. "our little secret, cutie?"

warning bells are going off in your head. it tells you to run and stay the fuck away from him but you did nothing of the sort, had only forced a polite smile and swiftly ducked around to get his arm off you. 

this is oikawa tooru we're talking about. 

yeah, you know he's quite the ladies man but you doubt he'd go... that far, especially if he knows the person's uncomfortable. not to mention, you're part of the volleyball team! you're managing his past team. surely, maybe, the familial bond extended to you too despite only joining their little family this year. you were just being paranoid. you were reading into it too much. 

"uhm, yes. of-of course."

oikawa does have to admit, seeing little miss perfect stutter and avert her eyes from him did wonders to his ego. well, now you don't look anything like the goddess his ex-team worships. you're not exuding the same level of confidence or reliability that you always carry yourself with. you look unsure of yourself. powerless in the face of real dominance. 

"why are you here?"

"i…" is it really wise for you to say why? "i forgot the team's record notebook in the girl's locker room. i need to pass a summary of it to coach tomorrow.”

oikawa smiles, eyes comically lighting up in excitement before slinging a heavy, oppressive arm around you again. "ooh, i'll come with!"

you walk with shoulders slightly folded in and the ex-captain likes you like this. all meek and submissive. he daresay you look prettier compliant and not like a self-entitled princess who thinks she shouldn't bother being romantically involved with an athlete. he still thinks you were bitchy and idiotic for friend zoning yahaba of all people. he thought you should be very thankful for getting noticed by his junior. 

but oh well, at least oikawa gets to have a go. 

to witness firsthand what the fuss about you is all about.

you wanted to shrug his arm away and he knows that but he won't do it. the fact that you're struggling to even speak up about it makes him smirk. see, now you know your place. as you should. sometimes, girls like you who get silly little ideas in their head should be reminded of where they truly stand in the food chain. oikawa is more than glad to be the one reminding you. 

you told him to wait outside while you sauntered into the girls' locker room and oikawa smiles that innocent smile before nodding. 

a prey really shouldn't have turned her back on a predator.

just as you picked up your blue notebook on the bench, the resounding lock of the door clicking shut sounded too loud in a closed-off space. "oikawa—'

"you know, i'd really appreciate if we drop formalities. i think screaming tooru while i fuck you sound way better. makes things more intimate, dontcha think?"

he was onto you before you even got the chance to turn around. the notebook you were holding drops to the ground as he grabs hold of your wrists, his leg swiping at your ankles to tackle you to the ground. he's quick. the floor is hard and cold when your back crashes into it. you wince, the shock of what's happening yet to register in your system. never before thinking that this sort of thing will happen to you.

oikawa isn't as cruel or disgusting as you think. you were both legal adults. he knows. after all, he was there when the team decided to throw you a surprise birthday party on your 18th. he was also there from around the corner, eavesdropping when yahaba pulled you aside and confessed his feelings to you and you had the fucking audacity to turn him down. 

he doesn't want to call this revenge, not when he'd still do it whether or not shigeru had confessed. 

you were from a different breed of people. worse than geniuses. you are so disgustingly perfect in every sense of the word that it's so fucking unfair. it fueled jealousy more severe than he ever felt from tobio or ushiwaka. 

because people aren't perfect. people aren't meant to be perfect. even oikawa himself is far from it so why should you be any different from him? you're nothing special. you're ordinary just like him. you don't deserve it. you're not even working hard enough like oikawa to fucking deserve it!

you were red in the face when he took a good look at your pinned form underneath him. your eyes are glossy but held fierce contempt as you meet his gaze, your lips sealed shut in a straight line. you were trying to hold yourself back from crying and it only fuels the fire of his anger. 

"what, think i'm not worth your tears?" he growls, a hand coming up to pull your hair. he sits atop you, his legs pinning yours down as he straddles your hips. "think you're so high and mighty that you won't cry for your oh so dependable oikawa-san?" he purposely makes his voice high-pitched like a girl, copying you spitefully. 

"that’s fine, i can give you a real reason to cry."

he rips your flimsy shorts off and ogles at your cute panties. pink with little bows? how innocent. 

his large hand covers your mouth, the heavy pressure keeping your head in place as his other hand cups your sex. the heat of his palms makes you squirm. already simulating the sensitive nerves and you poorly try shaking your head in denial. because no no no your body shouldn't be enjoying it!

"ou're a real piece of work, (name)-chan," he starts, voice conversation as he nudges your underwear aside, the flat of his thumb drawing lazy circles against your bare clit. "why pretend you don't like it? it's okay to accept pleasure from ordinary people like me. you're plain and average at best too, you know."

with both his hands occupied, you can freely try pushing him away but it's futile. he's too strong and your head is starting to ache with how hard he's pressing it against the floor. 

his blissful expression peeves you out entirely. he doesn't look regretful in the slightest. "you should really get off of that high horse, cutie. stop pushing me away. silly little girls like you belong like this, underneath a capable and powerful man to protect you."

you pant, the ministrations on your clit too good but you don't let it blind you. 

"fuck yo—"

but oikawa doesn't let you finish. he swoops in for a kiss, a hand holding your jaw firmly in place so you can't bite him. a particular hard nudge on your clit makes you gasp instinctively and his tongue invades your mouth. he's a good kisser. so damn skilled from all the girls he's kissed before you. maybe if circumstances had been different, you'd have butterflies in your stomach. 

"aw," he coos against your lips. "i see. little miss perfect wants me to fuck her? how cute."

you thrash and squirm, a pathetic sneer on your face as he holds you down with ease. all it takes is one firm hold against your shoulder as he nibbles on your neck, kissing and suckling at your skin until they turn purple and red. he placed them in positions he knows you can never cover even with the official aoba johsai uniform. why would you cover them anyway? you should wear his hickeys with confidence! it's the one evidence to show he even bothered himself with you so you should be grateful to him!

"let go of me, you jer—!"

"i don't think i'll suck on your tits today, cutie. no time. let's get to the fucking already then, yeah?" 

you absolutely hate his voice. it's the signature high-pitched and childlike tone partnered with that goofy smile of his. a facade he always wears when dealing with other people. a show he's mastered to an artform. he looks awfully unbothered by how wrong this is and it chills you to the bone. 

"oikawa-san—please—"

"i told you it's tooru!" he whines, pouting. "how many times do i have to tell you?"

panic seizes you when his ankles hook around your legs to force them open. he hears none of your pleas and shoves two long fingers up your pussy. there's a slight stinging feeling as he looks for that one spot that'll make you succumb, make you admit defeat. 

"if you want my dick inside this pussy you better call me by my given name or you won't cum, baby girl~" he says in a sing-song tone.

"who the fuck told you i wanted your—shit."

your toes curl and your back arches when his fingers grazed around a certain area. you didn't have time to feel betrayed by your body's reaction as the man on top of you chuckles condescendingly, angling his fingers so he hits the spot in every single thrust. "you like that, don't you? you like what my fingers are doing."

"no!"

"no?" oikawa repeats, measured. with a flick of his wrist, he has his thumb pressing firmly against the sensitive nerves of your puffy clit again and he watches you writhe, lose yourself to pleasure, moaning and whining so wantonly under him. "but cutie, i don't think that's what your body is telling me."

you cringe in disgust when his hot tongue laps at the falling tears in your eyes before whispering against your ear. breathy, and desperate, and ever so patronizing. you don't hear the zipper of his pants going down, nor did you realize he wasn't even bothering to hold you down anymore. good. that's a good start. baby steps, oikawa thinks. for someone who sat in a make-shift throne worshipped by hormonal teen athletes for so long, serving the one great king will be a huge reset for you. 

when he enters, it's a tight fit. of-fucking-course you're a virgin. always staying true to that little miss perfect reputation, huh? sweet and gorgeous but humble and demure. you probably had the same shitty old school belief of staying pure 'till marriage. it makes him harder, makes his length throb and ache with the desire to taint, to soil, to fuck you until that good girl image is stripped away and all you can think about in every waking moment of your useless life is your tooru's big fat cock. your pure lips only producing the most sinful of words to satiate his deepest desires—"fuck me hard, tooru!" "make me your whore, tooru!" "i want to feel all of you, tooru!" "i want your cock so bad, tooru! please please please!"

your longing cries of defeat, the lewd sound of skin slapping, oikawa's pornographic moans—it's a wicked symphony crafted by prodigies. "go on, cutie. cry for me. cry, and cry, and cry, 'til you don't have anything left inside you but your sorry tears and my cum!"

little miss perfect? no. you're his little cockwhore.

[srhlsx]

CHAPTER 18

master | ch. 17 | ch. 19

You had watched the intense match between Aoba Johsai and Date Tech from a few rows back in the stands. Below you, a team had gathered to also watch and you soon figured it was the team from the practice match at the beginning of the school year. Their black warmups had their school name on the back and they sat with intense concentration watching the game below. You recognized one tall boy with dark hair as the one who had stopped you and Oikawa when you had spent the afternoon with his nephew, a new look was in his eyes and he seemed like a different person.

The boys had won a close game and the larger than life players of the other team silently said goodbye to their season. You decided to get up from where you were sitting, wanting to stretch a little before the next game and maybe hoping to see the team and wish them luck. You had also been messaging Kiko who said she was going to come meet you for the last match since she had been busy with her family earlier in the day. You figured meeting her at the entrance was a good excuse for wandering around the arena.

You found the team in a side hallway, finishing up a short speech from Coach Irihata about what expectations were for the game ahead of them. You silently waited off to the side as they passed by, smiling at the boys you were most familiar with and wishing them luck. Mad Dog looked at you and when you told him to kill it out there he gave you a nod of his head, which you guessed was as good of a confirmation as you were going to get.

Oikawa wrapped an arm around your neck and brought you in close for a hug. You whispered your wishes of good luck, grabbing his face as he pulled back and squishing his cheeks together while you searched for the words to say to him. “You’ve got this.” You said after a moment.

“You sound unsure,” He laughed, eyes scrunching up in a teasing manner.

“I didn’t want to be cheesy,” You hit his shoulder as he laughed and ruffled your hair. “Just… win, okay?” He nodded, giving your jacket a little tug, and walked to catch up with the rest of the team.

You shut your eyes and let out a sigh, thinking you were the last one in the hallway until you felt a presence standing behind you. You felt a deep pull in the pit of your stomach and you turned around to locked eyes with Iwaizumi who was standing behind you silently.

He stepped up to you and wrapped a hand around the back of your neck, his grip firm and purposeful but gentle as he pulled you into him and stole away your breath with a kiss. It was very short and you wanted more, but it wasn’t the place. 

He caressed your cheek with his thumb, searching your face for something you didn’t know until his eyes landed back on yours. “Cheer for me.” Was all he said before dropping his hand and walking past.

You took in a shuddering breath and braced your shoulder against the wall as you watched him round the corner. Your phone buzzed in your hand and you looked down at the ID and Kiko’s name flashed across the screen. “Hey, are you here?”

- - - - -

You watched the game with baited breath. Wanting to be able to see everything you pushed Kiko to sit in the front row of the stands. Still away from the Seijoh cheering section, of course, but close enough that you saw everything going on. The cheering section was doing their usual and it took everything in your power not to yell at that one guy who was basically singing the cheers he led.

Things were tense almost right away when Mad Dog got subbed in and stole a spike that was clearly intended for Kindaichi. You spared a sideways glance at Kiko and saw her hands were clenched into fists and were nearly shaking in her lap. When things cleared up, she still wasn’t relaxed so you reassured her. “It’s fine,” You said, setting a hand on her bouncing thigh to make it stop. “They’ve got it under control.”

You felt an intensity radiate off the court that you hadn’t felt yet from them this year. The team in black was keeping them on their toes, the set score being tied and both sides looking tired. 

Oikawa had a fire in his eyes that radiated towards everyone else, he was playing all out but a few points into the third set he was starting to get a little wild. Things were stressful and you clutched the hand railing in front of you so tightly that your knuckles had turned white and you swore you could leave dents in the metal. It took a time out for you to realize how hard you had been clenching not only the railing but your jaw, your shoulders, your toes, and you finally relaxed. Irihata had taken out Mad Dog, things calmed down, and the boys were back in business when he made his way back into the game. 

“Get your shit together,” You harshly whispered.

The little redhead was bouncing everywhere, so fast you almost couldn’t keep up with his movements and you wondered if the members of Seijoh volleyball were struggling with him as well. He scored numerous points and you were impressed considering he didn’t look much taller than you.

It was match point and the teams were meeting in a timeout. For one of these teams it was going to be the last time they all played together, for the other team they’d get to keep going. It occured to you, for the first time that entire game, that things may not go the way that everyone was hoping for. 

The ashy-haired boy from the other team took his time with his serve, sending it straight to where Iwaizumi could receive it. Oikawa neatly set the ball, Kindaichi faking a spike and Mad Dog leaping in the air to smash it down. The ball, a missle, went straight to a wing spiker for the team in black and he managed to save it with his forehead. You saw something that looked off, the dark haired setter you met switching places with the boy who had served and suddenly everyone on the team was moving at once.

From above you were sure that the set was going to the small middle blocker, but you were surprised when the ball was sent further back to their ace for a devastating spike. Hanamaki dove and saved the ball before it hit the ground, earning a yell from you from above. However, the ball was not going in the direction it needed to and Oikawa was chasing after it.

You saw him point at Iwaizumi, a fiery look in his eyes as he lept in the air and twisted his body to send the ball clear across the court. It seemed impossible, a feat that no one should be able to accomplish, but time slowed down and the ball made its way perfectly across to Iwaizumi’s waiting hand and perfect form.

You watched as Oikawa crashed into a table and chair, sending them scattering across the floor loudly. He tried to get up but slipped on the tarp that was laid out, his leg kicking out and landing hard on his bad knee. You gripped the railing again and jumped forward slightly, “No.” You gasped.

Iwaizumi spiked the ball with as much power as you’ve ever seen him use and it ricocheted off the arms of the other team’s captain. He called for a cover and another teammate was able to dive for the ball to save it from touching the ground. Their ace, a big player with long hair, slammed the ball in a long spike back to the Seijoh side. 

Watari saved it from hitting the floor but the ball spun in the net and looked dangerously close to hitting the floor until Mad Dog set his feet and stuck out his arm to save that from happening. The ball ended up back on the opposing team's side and you saw the little pest gearing up to run forward. Iwaizumi, Kindaichi, and Mad Dog had all jumped for the block but the ball blasted past and straight for Oikawa. His arms extended and he just barely clipped the ball before it was sent out the back of the court.

The air escaped your lungs and all thought left your mind. The ball dribbled on the floor and the point was added to the other team’s total. 

You weren’t sure when the air returned to your lungs. Maybe it was when you saw the younger boys start to break down as Irihata spoke to them. Maybe it was when they lined up to thank the cheering section. Maybe it was when you saw Iwaizumi bite down on this lower lip to stop the tears from streaming down his face. You wished, more than anything, that you could comfort him in that moment.

But it couldn’t be you. So you grabbed your things and offered to ride the train home with Kiko.

- - - - -

The sun had set and Oikawa and Iwaizumi were walking along the street after having eaten dinner and playing one final, tear-filled game with their fellow third years. 

The two friends were talking about their future, Iwaizumi vowing to compete against Oikawa with everything he had whenever they meet again. Oikawa promised the same, admiring his friend more in that moment than he ever had before. They bumped fists and smiled at one another before continuing on their walk.

“What will you do now?” Oikwa asked, hands resting behind his head as they walked down the street.

“I don’t know,” Iwaizumi grumbled. “Probably go home.”

Oikawa looked over and saw the still sad expression etched into his features. It would probably be a while until Iwaizumi really forgave himself for not being the winning factor for the game, their season ending was a burden he was going to carry for a long time. Oikawa hummed thoughtfully, shoving his hands into his pockets while he continued looking forward.

“You could go see (y/n)~” He sang, causing his best friend to stop in his tracks with a wide-eyed expression. “Oh, Iwa, I can obviously see there is something going on there.”

“W-wha-” Iwaizumi stuttered, flustered for one of the first times in his life. Completely horrified that the secret that was shared between the two of you, whatever secret that was, was falling apart. 

“It’s okay,” Oikawa looked over at him with a genuine smile, eyes closed with his happy expression. “She’s not really my girlfriend you know.”

Iwaizumi continued to avoid his friend’s gaze and instead kept walking forward, not sure what he was supposed to say at this point, or if there was really anything to say. “How’d you find out?” He asked.

“I didn’t really know, until you confirmed it just now.” Oikawa smirked when his friend’s ears started to turn red. “But I had a thought when she met Mad Dog and Matsu said he only acts that way around you. Plus she mentioned you guys talk, calls you Haji, I just kind of started to put some pieces together.”

Iwaizumi nodded, hands stuffed in the pockets of his pants as he watched his own feet walk down the sidewalk. “I’m sorry,” He mumbled, glancing back at Oikawa.

“I told you it’s okay!” Oikawa held up his hands and waved them around. “I’m happy if you and her are happy.” He ducked his head a little to get a look at Iwaizumi’s face as he asked the next question. “Are you happy?”

Iwaizumi looked up to the sky, the breath he released came out as a foggy plume of air in the cool night. He thought it over, for once wanting to be completely honest with his annoying best friend. He didn’t look back at Oikawa when he answered wordlessly with a nod.

“Then what are you doing still hanging out with me?”

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