an - this is kinda a filler but had to address some important stuff n prepare for: THE BEACH ARC!! most of my smau’s have a specific “fun” arc n this is this one except it might be significantly less fun LMAO anyways even tho it’s much less heavy than the last ch, i hope you enjoy!! pls feed me <3
taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you
- Omi adressing the house being a mess in the absense of YN
- Bokuto defending YN in front of everyone and openly admitting to therapy
- The guys actually doing something nice for YN in return, and Meiko going rabid with jealousy xD
- I’m so mad at iwa, osamu and akaashi for to still be implying shit about YN! OIKAWA i hate you sm.
Now i can only think that Meiko will try to hook the guys back, being all nice and shit and the guys not falling for it, it would be precious!
And Meiko openly acussing YN of having sex with the guys and manipulating them, cause that exactly what she does!! and she doesn’t actually get that you don’t have to throw yourself at anyone to get stuff bahahaha i’d die of laughter if she gave them all STDs after the weekend bahahhaa *cackles in spanish*
summary:y/n and toru have been best friends since diapers, getting into all sorts of trouble along the way. it seems there’s nothing that could tear them apart, not iwa-chan, not toru’s weird obsession with aliens; even the move to tokyo couldn’t hinder their friendship. so… how would they fare upon realising that their platonic feelings aren’t quite platonic anymore?
content warnings: mention(s) of seizure, mature language, depictions(?) of a panic attack
word count:5.4K
note(s):you’ll find a few unknown names in this chapter, it’s just the names of y/n’s relatives. decided to give them some because why not? ♀️
- also, i switch between ‘hanae’ and ‘your mother’ a lot. same thing with ‘kenji’ and ‘your father’.
- if there’s any mistakes in here, my care is so far gone. at this point, when the tags are added it bugs out and i can’t edit the chapter ever again lol :> enjoy, it don’t, whatever you feel like
“You know the cashier was considering calling the cops on you.” Was the first thing you said once you emerged from the small convenience store. Oikawa whipped around with eyes as wide as saucers.
“What?Why?” The mere thought of being approached by unhappy officers sent an uncomfortable shiver down his spine. “I-I wasn’t doing anything!” You shrugged, readjusting the plastic bag suspended from your fingers. When you took the first couple of steps, it took him a moment to register your movement before he took up the space right beside you.
“Maybethat was why. You looked mad suspicious, Toru.” He fumbled for his words, brows furrowing with deepening frustration the more incoherent he became. Before too long, his cheeks resembled that of everlasting flames; a hue of burning red that seemed to spread across the expanse of his skin with no end in sight. Your lips twitched and curved up into a jubilant smile as the visible warmth latched onto his ears, going as far as to creep along the exposed skin of his neck.
Oikawa’s lips tightened; an attempt to quell the rising embarrassment that flooded forth.
“How on earth was I ‘mad suspicious’?” He bent his fingers as he quoted you, arching a brow smoothly, scrutinising gaze upon your face. “I was just standingthere!”
You laughed, recounting the anxiety written into the employee’s face as they served you, occasionally glancing through the large window towards Oikawa. They had even asked youforyour opinion; whether they should actually call the police or not, quickly prompting an awkward explanation that he wasn’t intentionally being suspicious, just waiting patiently for you.
Oikawa grumbled, turning away as his skin upheld its new crimson tint, his volleyball jacket suddenly becoming far too hot to handle. His fingers toyed temporarily with the zipper before pulling it down, fussing with the flaps of the jacket. The sigh that fled from his lips caught your attention rather quickly, though you dropped your gaze to the cracked pavement.
“It shouldn’t be much further.” You could sense his confusion even without looking at him. “Th-the hospital, I mean.”
“Ah, right. It’s just up ahead. I can see it.” Oikawa nodded, hands falling away from the hem of his jacket. “I, uh, don’t think you actually told me what happened this morning… after I left?” The lack of traffic alongside the road allowed his hesitant words to flow through the air easily, drawing a soft hum from your lips.
“Right, I guess I got distracted by the locker incident… thought I told you.” You knew you had forgotten something; it had been bugging you since first class of the day. “Well, when you left we figured we’d go check on him and see if he was ready to eat or at least awake.” You gripped the plastic bag tighter as the short memories faded in and out, such as your father’s bedroom door only slightly ajar.
“We went in and… I didn’t think anything was wrong at first until ‘ma came in right after.” Oikawa slipped his hands into his pockets, listening intently to your words, unfazed by the shakiness in your tone (or so he thought). His hand flexed subconsciously within his pocket, itching to reach out and grasp yours in a comforting hold. “She started panicking because it looked like he’d just been seizing, which hasn’t ever happened before… a-and then we couldn’t wake him up.”
He felt his heart leap up into his throat. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how you would have felt upon discovering your father in such a state. He bit the inside of his cheek, unable to offer any words of consolation.
“‘Ma called an ambulance and then called his parents and his sister… so they weren’t left in the dark, you know?” You lifted your head for what seemed like the first time in forever, sparing your friend a quick, pitiful glance before gazing ahead at the hospital. “Apparently an argument sparked up which was just the icing on the shit cake. But, I’d already left before all that went down; I wasn’t really interested in sitting in another hospital room for god-knows how long…” You pursed your lips, head tilted to the side as you stared ahead, taking in the slow-growing traffic.
“That sounded really bad… it’s not that I don’t want to be there with him—of course, I do—it-it’s just…”
“No, no.” Oikawa interrupted, waving his hand. “I get it. I bet your parents would understand, too. Hospitals can really take it out of a person, even when you’re not the one stuck in the bed.” He bit his tongue, hoping that the words he was mindlessly letting slip were the right ones. He assumed they were after spotting the grateful smile that wandered onto your lips.
“I know it pretty much pales in comparison, but when my nephew was in hospital for a broken leg, it was exhausting just sitting there with him for a couple of hours.” You tilted your head at the mention of said nephew. “You can bet Akiko was beyond the point of exhaustion after all that.” You grimaced, waves of sympathy emanating off of you for his sister.
“Yeah… ‘ma never really got back to sleeping properly after his first admission to hospital…” you sighed, “and that was ages ago.” Oikawa’s brows furrowed, studying the gentle way you peeked down into your bag, carefully readjusting the unhealthy snacks you had—without a doubt—slipped in. A vague curve made your lips twitch for a moment before you looked back up, the curve flattening unhappily.
You couldn’t say you didn’t feel his unmoving gaze, boring holes into the side of your head; that would be lying. You simply chose not to acknowledge it, fearing you would be reduced to a puddle of embarrassment; uncharacteristically bashful beneath his watchful eyes. With the rampant thoughts and racing voices that trekked through your mind, you would have spilled instantly. The second you met those anxious pools of earthy hues, reminiscent to that of autumnal leaves—speckled with gorgeous displays of colour—you would have lost the plot you loosely held together.
Avery awkward silence cruised into the atmosphere around the two of you, though neither you or Oikawa spoke to clear the air. He exhaled deeply, turned his head and followed your line of sight until he was staring at the underwhelming stature of the hospital, an unsettling feeling churning in the pit of his stomach.
Herefused to interrupt the quiet. As the two of you wandered through the small hospital after receiving the room number, close enough for your arms to keep brushing, he didn’t dare speak. From the slight crease of your brows, Oikawa knew you were amidst your thoughts; processing, most likely. Despite the familiarity, your current predicament seemed to require just as much processing as before.
The closer you got to the designated room, the more you began to fidget with the bag in your hand. Oikawa tipped his head towards the faint rustling of the plastic, spotting the anxiety that adorned your features. A mumble itched in his throat, momentarily stealing your attention away from the shining tiles lining the halls.
“You still breathing over there?” Oikawa quipped softly as the two of you slowed to a synchronised halt, eyeing the number engraved into the closed door. You hummed, biting the inside of your cheek. “Sorry, I-I just… you’re very quiet and I was worried…” He sputtered, fingertips grazing over his wrist.
“Mm… I’m okay… f-for now, at least.” You opened the bag and looked over the contents one last time, assuring yourself that you hadn’t missed anything. You blew out a heavy sigh, gripping onto the plastic material before gazing back up at the boy beside you. “Thanks for this, Toru…”
Oikawa’s lips parted swiftly, an onslaught of words on the tip of his tongue only to be reduced to nothing as a hand crept along his clothed forearm. His eyes shot down, staring at your fingers as they wrapped around his limb as best as they could. When you tipped your head, peeking up to check for a response, he smiled. It was a smile so familiar yet so foreign, in the sense that it was stirring about an unfamiliar reaction.
“Quite frankly, I feel you shouldn’t have more of a say in this situation than we do,” a disdainful voice hissed quietly as the two of you entered the room, “considering we’rehisblood relatives.” Oikawa flinched as your grip tightened, briefly glancing down at your hardened expression.
“He’s my husband… surely, that has to count for something?” Your mother fought back in the same hushed tone, seated close by the hospital bed with her hand tightly resting within the sickly man’s. Your grandmother sat on the opposite side of the bed, an arm propped up against the low-hanging window sill as she directed an ugly scowl towards her daughter-in-law. Clearly, there wasn’t an ounce of shame in the old woman’s body as the bitter expression remained upon her face, not once faltering when you and Oikawa entered.
“Hi,” you whispered, slowly removing your mask, “how is he..?”
Your mother turned her head and—despite the warm smile that greeted you—the exhaustion in her eyes was clear as day. She tightened her grip on her husband’s hand, lifting it only slightly for you to see.
“He doesn’t go down without a fight, you know that, sweetheart.” Her tone was shaky, gaze shifting from you to Oikawa slowly. “How was school today, you two?”
A thousand words flew to your tongue, ready to pierce the air, yet they stilled; clinging onto the very tip. An abyssal dread tore open in the depths of your stomach as you silently recounted the day and the many that came before it. There were a multitude of issues you ached to share with her, all revolving around a single person who’d brought more harm than good in only a short matter of time. The nagging guilt in the back of your mind prevented any and every word from escaping. She already had enough on her plate. It would be selfish to try and overshadow the critical condition that tied your father to his hospital bed.
“U-uh, it was alright,” Oikawa sputtered, his free hand wandering up to his nape, “there was a pop quiz in maths but I’m confident we both did fairly well.” You lifted your head as the lie fell smoothly from his lips, subconsciously squeezing his forearm. His eyes met yours sneakily for a moment before he turned his attention back to your mother, a sympathetic frown attached to his features.
“Well, that’s good… I knew I shouldn’t have been too worried,” she hummed, her head tilted back as she gazed at the ceiling, silently whispering another string of prayers; you were certain that particular lot were for your father. Her head dropped back slowly, attention switching back to the resting man. You awkwardly stood by Oikawa, cautious gaze flickering between the three women in the room as you fiddled with the plastic bag. Your grandmother was still hunched over in her chair, maintaining the same unmoving scowl as she glanced at you, not a sliver of guilt behind her thin, wrinkled eyes.
Oikawa shuddered lightly, subconsciously pulling you closer to his side; courtesy of your unrelenting grip on his arm. He never recalled the frail, old lady being so… terrifying with such little effort. From the tiny glance he shot your way, he found that it was a new sight for you as well; her crinkling features ripe with anger, blood no doubt boiling beneath her skin. When she peered away from your mother, scrutinising over the pair of you still standing idly by the door, you dropped your head.
There was hardly any room between you and Oikawa as you stepped even closer, unnerved by the silence and the thick tension that hung heavy in the air. There was a spurt of movement beside you as he readjusted, shifting his weight back and forth from one leg to the other. You were certain his thoughts were nothing more than ‘well, this is awkward…’, a cliche cough spilling from his lips in a futile attempt to clear the air.
“Here, Y/n,” he called softly, stepping away momentarily, “wanna sit?” You looked over as the boy gently tugged an empty chair back to where you stood, visibly cringing at the numbing screech while it pushed against the tile. A soft hum vibrated through your lips that twitched at the corners; seemingly contagious to him and him only as his own smile adorned his lips.
“Thanks.” You whispered, sliding your hand along his forearm as you moved to sit down, only to stop halfway through. “Oh, but… what about you? Don’t you wanna sit?” He shook his head, dropping his hands to your shoulders to gently guide you into the chair.
“I’ll be fine, strawberry,” he whispered to the back of your head, just loud enough for you to hear, “you looked tired. I wanted you to sit down and relax for a moment, at least.” You caved and nodded along to his words, grateful for his presence that radiated a soothing sense of serenity in large, comforting waves. It was just what you needed to keep from succumbing to the pressuring knots growing and tangling under your grandmother’s influence. You noted that he’d kept one hand atop your shoulder, occasionally giving it a reassuring squeeze to quell any rising nerves.
“Mama,please…” At the exasperated plea that sounded from your mother’s helpless lips, you peeked up. “We don’t need to have another argument right now… especially not in front of the children.”
Oikawa’s mind itched, an instinctive need to let one of his infamous quips slip out tickling the back of his throat. We’re not ‘children’ anymore, he would’ve chirped in any other situation. Your highschool days were nearly over; that had to count for something, right?
“I am not your mother, Hanae.” She shot back, pupils thinning even further with each slow, irate blink. “And we’ll have this conversation as many times as I please, whether these two are here or not. That is my son in that bed; my son hooked up to all of those nasty machines.” You chose to sink back into your chair, cradling the plastic bag in your lap as you patiently awaited your mother’s interjection. Usually, she’d have no qualms about biting back, one to quickly jump from one point to the next with incredible precision.
Oikawa’s brows furrowed as he peered between the two older women, stares intense enough to pierce the strongest of metals with their heat.
“So, you agree that the machines are ‘nasty’?”
“Clearly.” Her hardened stare softened when she glanced down at her son. “I don’t want him to need them 24/7 like he did the whole time you were in Tokyo. But… if it keeps him alive, I don’t see an issue with it.”
“Kenjitold you he hates them. He told you that if he were ever in this situation again…” Your mother cut herself off, sucking in a deep exhale. “Did you just choose not to acknowledge him then? You do realise that he’s the one who knows what’s best for him, right? Not you.”
“Well,clearly he’s incapable of figuring out what’s ‘best for him’! I mean, you were far from his first choice, Hanae.” You grimaced, attention immediately jumping towards your mother as she stilled, face contorted into horrific shock. “And now you’re trying to take away the only thing keeping him alive?”
“H-hey, maybe we should all calm down?” Oikawa called out cautiously, a hand hovering in the air. He visibly flinched when your grandmother whipped around, eyeing his figure up and down meticulously. “I-I mean… maybe hereandnow isn’t the best place for one of your ‘discussions’..?” He worded it carefully, eyes darting back and forth between the three ladies now staring at him, and yourself—too busy readjusting the treats in the plastic bag to notice.
He swallowed thickly, fingers moving towards the loose seams of his jacket.
“I-I just don’t think he would like the first thing he hears when he wakes up to be the most important people in his life arguing.” There was yet another silence that passed through the small room, somehow shoving away the overwhelming scent of cleanliness and leaving behind a bitter aftertaste. He watched as the old lady—once soft and benevolent—hunched forward, glaring daggers straight at his anxious figure.
“I don’t recommend getting yourself caught up in family matters that don’t even concernyou,boy.” You raised your head gradually, fingers falling away from the unreliable straps of the bag. “Last time I checked, you weren’t apart of this family. Unless there’s something else you’ve decided to hide from me, Hanae?” She spat angrily, bouncing her frustrations back towards your irritated mother. Oikawa could only stand in silence, astonished by the declaration of harsh facts. Your grandmother had always considered his family—and Iwaizumi’s, too—as an extension of her own, even without the same blood running through their veins—through hisveins.Hell, she’d always be the first to volunteer babysitting because she adored the three of you.
He didn’t know exactly what had contorted her mind, nor what had rotted the kindness in her heart and replaced it with suffocating toxicity. He could only assume it had something to do with the sickly male shifting about in his hospital bed.
“Toru’s right.” You interjected, saving your mother some breath. “And, with all due respect, I think you should watch what you’re saying.” You wanted to sink back into your chair, to hide behind the wall of muscle stood beside you; at least that’s what your rapidly thrumming heart desired. It was a wild animal, caged behind rows of fragile ribs with a burning desire for freedom; untameable.
She whipped her head around, lip curled in distaste, “I should watch what I’m saying? Where are your manners, Y/n? Speaking out of turn like that?” You bit your tongue accidentally as you looked away, slowly stepping back towards your chair. “I suppose it’s as they say; like mother, like daughter. It’s no surprise you’re taking pages from herbook.”
Why were you backing down? Oikawa’s gaze followed you in confusion as you sat once more, avoiding all contact with the others in the room. You had just harboured an admirable amount of confidence that sent a rhythm of tingles along his spine, confidence that had disappeared as quickly as it arose.
“Kenji?” Briefly intrigued, he picked his gaze up from your slouched figure and back towards the frail women, an unusual smile curved upon her lips; a stark contrast to the uncouth tones she’d thrown about moments before. The man was shifting, groaning and grumbling beneath ragged breaths. “Oh, sweetheart… I cannot believe your ‘wonderful’ wife wants to take away everything keeping you here with me…”
“Okay,mama,” Hanae called out, standing from her chair. “If you’re not doneyet,we can stand outside until you are. I’m not about to have this argument again, especially in front of Kenji after all he’s been through… I think Y/n deserves some time with her father anyway.”
“Foolish of you to think that I’ll be leaving my darling’s side.” The words she spat, full of resentment, practically bounced off your mother. Hanae was fed up, that much was true.
“Mama, come on.” The third lady who had been sitting silently in the room spoke up, hand resting wrapping around her mother’s arm, shielding whatever mottled skin was there from view. Her grip, although seemingly gentle, was tight; just shy of bruising. Without much else to say, the bitter elder got up on unsteady legs and followed the two women outside, the door closing behind them.
Oikawa stared for a moment, processing the entire situation in a devastating amount of time. His heart hurt, his head hurt. For himself, for Kenji but mostly for you.
“I-I’m so sorry about all that, Toru…” you murmured guiltily, lifting your head once more as a look of embarrassment landed upon your pained features. “I didn’t think that—“
“Don’t worry about it. Everyone copes with stress differently, I guess…” he shrugged it off as best as he could, allowing whatever anxiety remained teetering on his shoulders to slide gracefully off the side for the time being. “Anyway, he’s awake now. Let’s show him what you brought, okay? Forget about everything else for a little while…”
You shot up abruptly, eyes glazing over the man struggling to sit upright beneath several otherwise light covers. Oikawa trailed behind you as you shuffled over to the bedside, quietly calling out to your father as a means of comfort. You handed the bag off to Oikawa—who noted the way the straps were nearly severed, held together by a few loose strands of worn plastic—and grabbed onto your father’s shoulder, slowly helping him adjust to the bed.
“How-how do you feel?” You stuttered out and, by the downward pull of your brows, Oikawa could easily sense your nerves regarding his answer. Kenji blinked irregularly, trying to rid of the haze in his eyes as a hand blindly searched for yours. “I’m right here. Do you feel alright?” His hand, much larger than your own, wrapped snug around your fingers, a content hum vibrating through his body. His hum was soon cut off by a harrowing coughing fit.
You sucked in a sharp breath, pulling your hands away instinctively as the man lurched forwards, chest convulsing painfully as he wheezed and gasped. Your hands fell to your lap, a dreaded sense of helplessness fogging your mind; there wasn’t a single thing you could do to ease his pain, to make it all go away—and it hurt. It hurt, realbad. So much so, you hadn’t even registered the hand that had become attached to your shoulder, squeezing it unbearably tight.
“Hah…” He breathed out when the fit weakened. “Never felt better, kiddo.”
“You’re not funny…”
“No? I-I think I’m quite hilarious,” he grinned back weakly, resting his arm against the thin railing protruding from the side of the bed. Your eyes raked over each prominent vein that branched beneath thin, sickly skin, bulging uncomfortably in the light.
“What do you think, young man?” He called out, gaining Oikawa’s attention immediately. “I’m…-I am funny, right?” With a nervous quirk of his lips, Oikawa laughed, giving into the older man’s unspoken request to follow along.
“Funniest man I’ve ever had the pleasure to know,” he admitted, noting how you paused to glare at him from the corner of your eye.
“Don’tencouragehim,please.”
“Oh, sweetheart, relax…” Kenji wheezed, lifting a heavy hand to your head. You winced temporarily as it dropped haphazardly against your hair, rough fingers digging in as far as they could. All in a loving manner, of course. “Say, what’s in your little bag there?” You shifted away, gently placing his hand back into the bed beside his restless figure as you turned to reach for Oikawa. He carefully handed off the bag to you, his free hand tracing over one of your shoulders towards the other.
“We stopped by that little convenience store on the way here… y-you know? The one you used to take us to when we were little?” You toyed with the thin strips of plastic, lips tugging upwards as your father made a noise of excitement, fond of the distant memory. “We got you a few things…but… now that I think about it, you probably can’t even eat them, huh?”
Oikawa gave your head a sympathetic pat.
“I’m sure he’ll still appreciate the thought, whether or not he can eat them.” You smiled, subconsciously leaning into his touch as his comforting words spilled from lips to ears.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard… a more c-correct statement in my en-tire life.” Your father croaked, stuttering and stumbling over a few words and occasionally pausing to find breath. Although your lips were curved upwards into a pretty little smile, the sadness shone through clear as day. In spite of that, to maintain your father’s happiness, you slowly began to pick out each sweet treat one at a time; Oikawa noted how animated—how euphoric—you grew as the exchanges continued.
He pulled your grandmother’s chair over to sit beside you, elbows resting against his knees as he held in his chin in his hands; only to shift quickly after, seeking a more comfortable position. He leaned over his favoured side of the chair—the right side, aka;your side. Oikawa’s gaze switched frequently between you and Kenji, scanning for the ill man’s reactions to each hidden treat you removed from the bag. Each one was seemingly brighter than the last, etching one of equal width onto your own lips. Occasionally, when he wasn’t stuck in stillness by the silencing grin of adoration inching further into his cheeks, he would offer up a laugh at your father’s jokes, only to fall quiet when your elbow launched out and gently nudged him.
“You always used to get this mochi, right?” You hummed, crumpling up the plastic bag and dropping it by your feet as you brought out the final package. “Why was it always this gross off-brand?”
Kenji, feigning shock, took the small package with trembling hands, “they aren’t gross! You little monster… th-these are a delicacy!”
“Toru? You have to agree with me on this one, right?” You turned to face him, a wisp of a smile upon your face. Kenji also spared him a quick glance, a teasing glint in his eyes.
“Sorry, Sir,” he sighed, cracking a soft grin as you grabbed onto his forearm with exaggerated excitement. “This off-brand mochi was the worst.” Kenji tossed his head back against his pillows, a string of broken cackles drifting into the air as you directed an ‘aggressive’ point in his direction.
“See? I was right! Your taste buds have always been messedup.”
His laughter fell into a sickening fit of coughing, soon becoming hand-in-hand with heart-wrenching gasps for air. His smile was long gone, vein-riddled hand reaching for the bed’s railing for a tiny sense of stability. Your figure went rigid, grip tightening around Oikawa’s forearm as your eyes flickered about. The same flood of hopelessness, dreaded by both teenagers, overwhelmed the room in a mere matter of seconds. Monitors beeped, a tiny red light blinked angrily, a flurry of feet stomped about outside of the door.
In that moment… every single sound… no matter how quiet or loud, how seemingly insignificant; they all merged. You wanted it all to stop, you wanted everything and everyone to just shut up. You wanted to go back to those few moments prior; where the three of you—Oikawa, your father, yourself—were all happily joking and pointing out different snacks.
Speaking of… with the arrival of the nurses, the snacks were cast aside without a single moment of hesitation, clattering to the floor and forgotten amidst the haste.
“I’m sorry but may I ask for you two to wait outside with the rest of Mr L/n’s visitors?” A nurse asked softly, guiding you and Oikawa towards the door with cautious, hovering hands.
“Y-yeah, sure thing,” Oikawa nodded, noting that amongst all the movement, you still held onto him, wide eyes flickering back and taking in the messy scene on display. “Strawberry? Hey, come on… we’d be better out here while they help him.”
“…Y/n..?” His fingers ghosted over your knuckles, cringing inwardly at the uncomfortably tight squeeze your hand had on his skin. Slowly, he pulled you out of the room, still caught within your daze. With one hand, he carefully lifted the straps of his mask over his ears, reaching over to assist you with your own. Your hands moved mindlessly, without direction; simply trailing up to meet his as they crept across your face, fixing the strange crinkles of the surgical mask.
“Y/n, hey… you can hear me, right?” He whispered, hands hesitantly finding solace against the bottom of your jaw, trying to bring your fixation back towards him. “He’ll be alright, I promise.”
You blinked once. Then twice. Then three times for good measure, gradually allowing yourself to adjust. He seemed unnerved—only slightly—when all you could offer him was a broken stare, eyelids twitching subtly as you fought the urge to blink once more. You knew that as soon as your eyes closed, no matter how long you chose to embrace the brief darkness that would follow, the second you opened them they would be lined with stinging tears. Overwhelming surges of emotion sent you into the boy’s open arms, fingers twisting and squeezing at the fabric of his shirt.
“H-he’s in so much p-pain, T-Toru…” you hiccuped, forehead pressed right into his chest. Oikawa’s hands hovered over the moving ridges of your shoulder blades before dropping down against your back, one quickly trailing up towards the back of your head. You continued to mumble and cry, a crackling voice shifting in tandem with the unsteady shaking of your body.
He dropped his head to the crook of your neck, ignoring the uncomfortable strain of his back and the slow-growing, damp patch against his chest.
“I know, I know…” He closed his own eyes, trying to blink away the few tears desperately clinging to his lashes. “God… I know, Y/n.” His gaze flickered away from the wall he stood by, soon finding the guilty honey-hued eyes watching your sobbing figure from afar. A hint of a smile, via trembling lips, danced upon your mother’s lips, grateful for his presence as he practically cradled you in his arms. In a brief matter of seconds, she lifted her mask from her chin and placed it back over her nose, entering the room with long strides.
Oikawa’s attention swiftly returned to you at the muffled gasps and intense shaking that overcame your body, vibrating through his limbs with a sympathetic ache. Despite the incessant longing to keep you wrapped in his arms, he gently pulled you out of his chest, looking down at your tear-stained face as he removed your mask. God, he hated seeing you in such a state; it was as if someone had just ripped his heart out. He fought every pull in his body, he fought the instinct to carefully cup your puffy cheeks within his soft palms.
Your weeping drew silent, though it was far from over; shoulders shifting abnormally, body still racked with unsteady shudders.
“Y/n,breathe, okay?” He whispered into the crown of your head. “I know it’s hard but I need you to focus on me, alright?”
“I-I can’t… h-he… he—“
“I know, strawberry,” he interrupted quietly, pulling his mask to his chin, hoping that the use of the cutesy nickname would ease your nerves. “But you need to be okay first… I’m right here, look at me, okay? Look at me and we’ll do this together.” You nodded shakily, following as he breathed in deeply through his nose and out through his mouth. Your hands—much smaller than his—draped weakly over his fingertips, struggling against the internal embarrassment dwelling in your system, demanding you avert your gaze. You hated the sense of fragility; the weakness that overcame you as his gaze settled and refused to move from your face.
“You’re doing so well, Y/n,” he hummed, smiling softly at you. “Don’t pay any mind to anything else, alright? Just me. Just us.”
“I’m s-sorry, I-I…”
“What the heck are you apologising for, huh?” He quirked a brow, allowing a hushed laugh to pass through his lips. When your panic seemed to calm, leaving ragged whimpers and sniffles in its wake, he frowned. “Y/n… don’t apologise… you haven’t done anything wrong.”
You didn’t respond with anything other than a quick step closer to his hunched figure, hesitantly wrapping your arms around his midsection. The floor seemed to sway beneath your feet, knees weak and wobbly urging a tighter grip on the boy you so pathetically clung to.
“Y/n…” he whispered, once again dropping his head to your shoulder, lips pulled taut as they sat against the thin fabric of your school shirt. Gradually, Oikawa backed up into the nearby wall, sliding down onto the floor with you snug in his embrace.
“I’ve got you.” His eyelids fell heavy, closing temporarily at the gradual relaxation of your limbs. One hand moved up to the back of your head, holding you even closer (if it were possible). “I’ve got you…”
extra sides;
everyone in the vbc (aside from iwaizumi) is under the impression that oikawa and y/n are on a date
when they were little, Kenji would take the trio to the convenience store every friday afternoon.
yes, he only ever eats crappy off brands
oikawa tends to make a lot of promises he can’t keep.
i am so sorry for the wait lmao <3
taglist —[]
taglist is closed! please do not ask to be added!
(i will be removing those that are unable to be tagged next chapter <3)
Having a big ass crush on your fellow YouTuber wasn’t a good idea in the first place. So you decided to keep it a secret and try it to be unnoticeable as possible since the media might go crazy over it. However, what happens when you accidentally tweeted about simping over Tetsuro Kuroo, one of the most well-known YouTuber. Will it be the start of a new relationship? If It was, It wasn’t a relationship you had planned or wanted ― until now.
pairing: kuroo tetsuro x f! reader
genre: fluff and angst(???)
warnings: swear words, suggestive themes and mental health problems
a/n:SURPRISE UPDATE WOOO!!! I’M FINALLY BACK!!! I MISSED U ALL HOPE Y'ALL ARE SAFE!I’ll try to update as much as possible since I can manage my time rn. I guess 2 times or 1 update every week? Not sure yet but I’ll try my best!
Having a big ass crush on your fellow YouTuber wasn’t a good idea in the first place. So you decided to keep it a secret and try it to be unnoticeable as possible since the media might go crazy over it. However, what happens when you accidentally tweeted about simping over Tetsuro Kuroo, one of the most well-known YouTuber. Will it be the start of a new relationship? If It was, It wasn’t a relationship you had planned or wanted ― until now.
pairing: kuroo tetsuro x f! reader
genre: fluff and angst(???)
warnings: swear words, suggestive themes and mental health problems
