raquelle fan

characters:

bokuto koutarou

tsukishima kei

kageyama tobio

headcanons

sakusa kiyoomi

as a single dad

bnha/mha

kirishima eijirou

When your parents brought him home from the hospital, you were nearly in middle school and much more concerned with reading TEEN magazines with your friends and gushing over how good Harrison Ford looked in Star Wars. His crying would make it impossible to hear anything on the television, and your friends wouldn’t be able to hear you over the phone. His presence became a nuisance to you from the moment you were old enough to know what nuisance means. 

Once you reached high school, you got stuck babysitting him whenever your parents came up with a reason to get away. Date nights, business trips, and even ‘family emergencies’ meant that your night plans would involve making dinner for two and tucking your brother into his bed. You vividly remember the times where you’d put him to bed early so that you could leave the house and go out to parties with your friends. 

Sometimes you’d feel guilty for leaving him, but you’d tell yourself it was your parent’s fault for leaving you to do their job. You were responsible for your brother more than they ever were. 

And now, you’re experiencing serious déjà vu.

Your parents have immediately taken advantage of the fact that you’re home from college by forcing you to chauffeur your brother to and from his baseball practice. You’d mildly protested at first, but realized doing so was futile. They hadn’t listened when you were younger, you doubt they’d care now.

You pop open your trunk and wait for your brother to find his bag, something that is taking him far longer than it should. Tapping your foot impatiently, you glance down at your watch and cup your hands around your mouth. 

“Come on runt, you’re gonna be late for practice!” 

Your brother emerges from the garage mere seconds later, unceremoniously tossing his bag into the trunk and hopping into the front seat. You roll your eyes, shutting the back and hopping into the driver's seat.

A turn of the key causes the George Michael CD you’d been listening to the night prior to blare through your speakers. Your brother covers his ears and sticks his tongue out in mock disgust. 

The drive through your hometown has you nostalgic, and it’s almost enough to make you forget why you’re even in the car. That’s until your brother starts moving his arm along the window like it’s a snake traversing the streets of Hawkins.

Your first instinct is to tell him to quit getting your window dirty with his nasty hands, to be the mean older sister that calls him names and verbally punishes him for daring to exist. 

When you look over at him, though, you see your brother for the little baby he once was and the young boy he still is. Your annoying brother, who drives you crazy all of the time by merely breathing, is also your little brother: the one who has to live at home with your parents and spend more nights than not by himself, entirely alone.

Be the big sister he deserves.

“So, how’ve you been liking baseball?”

You internally cringe at the basic question, suddenly feeling like an old distant relative you see around holidays and holidays alone, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind.

In your periphery, you see his head snap towards you in excitement. A wide grin that’s missing a few teeth springs to his face.

“It’s super fun!” he chirps, “I have a lot of friends on the team. Like Derek plays too, he’s a catcher! And we’ve been winning a lot of games ‘cause we’re better than the other teams in the county, obviously, and-”

You cut off his word-vomit before he can continue, hoping your limited knowledge of baseball can carry you through so you don’t sound stupid to your own baby brother: “Catcher, huh? That’s pretty cool. How about you, you an outfielder or something like that?”

He shakes his head, but he looks proud. It takes all of your self-control to keep your fingers from reaching over and pinching his cheek.

“I'm the shortstop. Coach Steve says I have a good arm and I’m really accurate when I throw, it’s the position for the best.”

You smile, happy to hear him so proud.

“Sounds like Coach Steve thinks pretty highly of you.”

The next five minutes of the ride are spent listening to your brother worship Coach Steve and the ground he walks on. Bits about how “he’s the coolest”, “he teaches a funny class”, and how he’s “the best coach I’ve ever had” flood from his mouth like a waterfall of praise.

It reminds you of a Steve you knew in high school, who you ran in the same circle as and who you had a not-so-trivial thing with for a while. One you haven’t talked to in a long time, who also happened to play baseball when you guys were in school. 

Maybe…

You cast that thought from your mind almost as soon as it enters. Your brother’s probably just talking about some random middle-aged man who wanted to coach his son or something like that, not your Steve.

The road leading to the ball fields comes into view, and you’re hit with another wave of memories from your younger years.

You pull into the grass lot, near the dugout so that your brother's walk isn’t too far. His teammates are bustling around, tearing bags open and lacing up cleats while practically yelling at one another. Their shouted conversations mix together into a giant collection of pure noise.

In the chaos of it all, a figure much taller than the rest walks into view. Clearly, you’re in the presence of Coach Steve.

“He’s probably gonna be pissed that you’re late,” you poke, “you better not blame me.”

You ignore your brother's scoff and step out of the car to help him gather his things. You pull his bag out and hand him his other bat. 

As he’s rooting around for his cap, your eyes drift back over to the dugout. You squint, eyeing the coach more carefully. His outfit is doing little to conceal the taut muscles underneath, and the cap on his head is barely able to contain his glorious hair— hair that you’d recognize anywhere.

Holy hell…

Your feet move you a few steps closer, and from this distance you’re sure it’s him.

“Steve? Steve Harrington?”

His head whips up from his clipboard and his gaze lands on you. His eyes quickly flash with recognition and he mouths your name before tossing the clipboard aside and jogging over to you.

Your arms find him in a quick hug that's realistically a few more seconds than most would find appropriate, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

You pull away and really look at him up close. Steve has only grown more attractive with age, and you’re thinking some terribly sinful thoughts that would get your mouth washed out with soap were you to voice them. His beautiful brown eyes are as happy to see you as ever, seeming to take you in as much as you are doing to him. His hair, you notice, might even be longer than it was the last time you saw him. You take a mental picture for yourself, and you know that you’re going to dream about his handsome face later.

“It’s been a while! What’re you doing here?” He puts his hands on his hips casually, but you can’t help but wonder if he’s as nervous as you are right now (he is).

“My brother plays,” you gesture to where he’d been standing by the trunk, only to discover he’d made his escape already, “wherever he is.”

Steve laughs, turning around to survey his team before he sees your little brother talking to Derek.

“I didn’t put that together. I would probably figure he was a cousin of yours or something.” 

You smile, watching your brother interact with his friend.

“He was just telling me how great Coach Steve is actually,” you look at him, “I didn’t realize it was the Steve Harrington he was talking about.”

He chuckles, eyebrow lifting in amusement as his eyes fall back to yours.

“Is that surprising to you?”

You decide that it is not totally surprising that the Steve you knew ended up coaching. He’s always wanted kids, and you picture this as practice for raising his own someday. Your train of thought shifts quickly when thinking of how he would get those kids, and you suddenly put together that this Coach Steve is in fact the one who teaches the “funny class.”

“Honestly, I was more shocked to hear that you’re the one who teaches sex ed.”

His eyes widen, and you let out a laugh that you quickly try to cover with your hand. He shakes his head, hand coming to run through the part of his hair that’s actually exposed as he breathes out a laugh.

“It’s part of the gig,” and then, as though possessed by the ‘King Steve’ of days long past, he adds, “at least it’s a subject I’m not half-bad at.”

You feel a shocking yet familiar tug from lower down. Something about the way he says it brings you back to a foggy memory from several years ago, to a spring night in Tommy H’s basement.

“She’s here!”

Your then-best-friend Carol had separated herself from her boyfriend to greet you, pushing through people to get to the front door where you stood. She gives you a quick once-over and grins.

“You look sooo good,” she slurred, handing you a cup, “I made this for you.”

“Thanks,” you accepted the mystery drink and allowed her to start pulling you down the stairs.You’d looked down at your dress, hoping it wasn’t too much for a party to celebrate yet another win for the baseball team. “I’m not overdressed, am I?”

Carol laughed, shrill and full.

“Oh, the guys here are gonna love it!”

You’d shivered at that prediction—that hadn’t been what you were going for at all. 

“I just came to hang with you, though. I don’t really need for guys to be looking at me.”

She rolled her eyes at that, not understanding how you could look like that and not want attention. Her inebriated self eventually relented though, and she placed an unsteady hand on your shoulder.

“Of course, we can hang all night,” she said, placing emphasis on ‘all’.

She’d just as quickly abandoned you though, opting to play Quarters and suck face with Tommy H. Some best friend.

You’d mingled with some of the girls you recognized from shared classes, but quickly got sick of dealing with drunk people while being practically sober. You took your cup, half-full with the same liquid you’d been gifted at the beginning of the night, and retreated back to the basement.

The loveseat in the corner was calling your name, and with only a sparse number of people there it seemed like your best option. You sat down and spaced out, staring into the dark red of the solo cup contents.

“You look like you’re having fun.”

You were snapped out of your trance and noticed that Steve now stood in front of you, matching cup in hand. He looked as handsome as ever, and you smiled.

“Could you tell?”

He smiled back, gesturing to the spot next to you. You scooched over, making the small amount of space slightly bigger. He sat down, and you weren’t unaware of the feeling of his thigh making contact with yours. 

“I’m not having too much fun either, if it makes you feel any better.” He took a sip from his cup, surveying the basement.

At the close proximity, you could smell the mix of his cologne with a hint of tobacco. He’d probably already had a smoke with some of the other guys at the party.

You shake your head in disbelief, wanting to comment on how Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington could make his own fun, should he choose to. You hold back though, content that he chose to sit with you.

“Carol ditched me.”

“Shocker.” He looks at you, eyes widening before somewhat nervously adding: “No offense, I mean. You don’t deserve that.”

“It is my fault though,” you stare into your drink again, “this happens every time. She always says we’ll get to spend time together, and then she has a few drinks and-“

“Her and Tommy end up disappearing to the nearest empty room for the rest of the party.”

You look at him reverently, leaning your head on his shoulder in appreciation.

“At least you get it.”

Despite hanging out with the same people, this was the first time you could remember talking extensively one-on-one with Steve. It was nice to have someone who understood your grievances on a more personal level than other people at your school. Anyone that wasn’t in your bubble couldn’t fully grasp what you went through on a daily basis.

“They don’t know what they’re missing. You’re great company.” His brown eyes scan your face as his arm comes to rest around your shoulder. Your heart beats wildly out of control and you take a gulp of your drink.

Your drink disappears over the next however-long without you even realizing, conversation flowing between the two of you easily. Steve entertained you by posing dumb hypotheticals, most of them totally impossible but fun to consider nonetheless.

“Rambo would absolutely kick your ass!” You giggled; your face hurt from smiling so much. 

“Hey, I think I could land a few hits at least.” He swung an invisible bat, and you made a reminder to go watch their next home game.

“His M60 isn’t gonna let you get close enough to do that! You can’t bring a baseball bat to a machine gun fight, Steve.”

“Worth a try!” He grinned, boyish and devastatingly handsome.

As more people migrated to the basement to watch the intense beer pong tournament happening, the two of you kept moving your faces closer to one another so you could ‘hear’.

The still-unknown drink in your system combined with the presence of Steve made you feel comfortably warm, your extremities buzzing and eyelashes fluttering.

Silence fell between the two of you as your eyes traveled from his eyes to his lips and back again. Like magnets, your faces moved closer together. A single look from Steve told you everything you needed to know, and you nodded.

Your lips messily crash onto his, jetting far beyond chaste and instead a manifestation of your needy desperation for one another.

The feeling of his lips on yours was like magic; the pressure of his mouth leading you borderline lightheaded. His big hands had traveled from your arms to your face and side, respectively. His thumb massaged your cheek slowly, holding you in place against him. Your arms wrapped around his neck in response. After a dizzying amount of time (which seemed to fall away when you were entwined with him), his tongue slipped into your mouth. You felt fireworks explode in your stomach and a slick sensation beneath your dress.

He pulled away a few minutes later, the two of you practically panting for breath. You missed the contact immediately.

“Steve-”

You cut yourself off with a gasp as his mouth attached to your neck, pressing featherlight kisses that got more and more passionate until-

“You’ve got that right.”

You interrupted the memory before your body could react in the same way it had back then.

His face is pink as though he’d also been remembering examples of his abilities. You catch as he bites the inside of his cheek before he speaks again.

“We have a game tomorrow, actually. It’d be nice if you could come.”

An invitation? You’d been planning on going anyway, knowing that your parents were more than likely not going to be there, but getting directly asked by Steve made it so much different.

“I don’t really know all that much about baseball though,” you cross your arms, knowingly pushing your chest up, “I don’t want to embarrass myself.”

Steve—who is fighting with everything in him to maintain eye contact and don’t look down don’t look down don’t look down—runs his hand through his outstanding hair and smiles at you. It sends a jolt through your heart (and even lower).

“I could show you the basics, tonight at my place,” his hand rubs the back of his neck, “I’m a great teacher.”

“How about dinner too?”

“That was a given, beautiful.”

You beam.

“I’ll see you after practice then, Coach” you wink. 

His jaw drops open only then, lips fighting to form words before he settles for a smirk that’s definitely not as suave as he hopes. In any case, it’s endearing.

You slide back into your car, watching him through your rearview until you can’t see the field.

Tonight, you’re going to put his coaching and teaching to the test.

————————

Derek points over to where your car had been.

“Dude, it’s so obvious that Coach Steve likes your sister, and your sister likes Coach Steve!”

“Ew! No way!”

He looks over to the now-empty spot, shrugging.

“All I’m saying is that your sister is probably sucking his fat one-“

you would think that he would've also cleared his schedule, but your boyfriend has never been a slacker. despite the holiday break his team is currently on, he's at the gym fulfilling his self-imposed daily workout plan. his treat to himself was opting for a solo workout during the afternoon rather than his typical morning one with a few of his teammates. it allowed the two of you to sleep in, and you'd made his favorite breakfast at the late hour of one pm. after which he'd quickly changed into his gym gear and slipped out the door with a quick kiss and a promise to "be back soon".

you hadn't complained, it gave you time to set up the house.

you've already intercepted the mail the past few days, taking out letters addressed specifically to him from people you recognize. you have them laid out on the dining room table, where you'd hung up some small decorations to have some semblance of a theme. you also had time to pick up the cake you ordered as well as putting the homemade yogurt bites in the fridge. everything is in place; you can finally let out the breath you've been holding.

the doorbell rings, and you smile cheekily. it's time.

-----------

"i'm home."

tobio doesn't need to announce himself, but it's been a habit of his for as long as you've been together. if anything, it gives you peace of mind and quells your intrusive thoughts.

you emerge from the kitchen with electrolyte water, meeting him by the door with a kiss on the cheek and a bright smile. he mouths a quiet 'thank you' as he takes the glass.

"i'm making your favorite, it should be done soon actually," you smile, sure that he could smell the pork katsu curry from a mile away even without you telling him.

he makes a noise of appreciation, looking through all of the cards on the table as you pull out your phone and take a seat in the living room.

you scroll through instagram, seeing posts his friends have tagged him in. some are from present teammates while others are throwbacks from when he was in high school, over ten years ago at this point.

"only one more year until you're officially old," you tease as you like a post of him from his first year of high school.

"you sound like miwa."

you smile at the mention of his sister. she’d called while you two were still in bed this morning, mocking her not-so-little brother on his non-existent wrinkles and praising you for how beautiful you looked even after just waking up. she'd ultimately wished him a happy birthday and told him to keep an eye out for his birthday gift -- moisturizing cream.

you laugh at that thought, setting your phone down as you look behind the sofa and smile.

"so, what are your plans for the rest of the day?"

tobio turns to face you, then crosses the living room to sit down beside you. he leans into the pillow behind him, hand meeting yours with a gentle squeeze.

"honestly," he starts, sounding a little exasperated, "all i want is to eat dinner with you and spend the night together. things have been busy for both of us lately and it would be nice to just be with you."

your heart drops at the implication, especially knowing something he doesn't.

"oh, well, um," you stutter out, "you might not like what's about to happen, then."

he looks at you, even more confused than when you do english interviews.

"what-"

"SURPRISE!"

hinata and hoshiumi pop out from behind the sofa. at the noise, ushijima reveals himself from the hallway closet. tobio is startled, shielding you, before his mind catches up. he shuts his eyes, breathing deeply as though to wake up from whatever nightmare he’s in, and opens them again.

if looks could kill, kageyama would've murdered all of the men in the room twice over.

they don’t seem to notice, or at least they don't seem to care, as hinata places his hands on tobio’s shoulders.

"happy birthday kageyama!" they shout in unison.

later, you'll tell him how hinata had insisted on flying in for his birthday. you'll say that it was impossible to ignore the messages from hoshiumi asking what the plans were for the night, and how even ushijima had mentioned stopping by. you will tell him that the group chat on your phone with tsukishima, yamaguchi, and yachi had been made weeks ago, and that they were all taking breaks at work so they could call and ‘be there’ when you cut the cake.

but none of that is important right now. you lean into him, voice barely above a whisper.

it's not a venue he'd ever envisioned he'd be at, much less that he'd be dating one of the most anticipated models. though ever since the two of you had gotten together, he'd done a lot of things he never thought he would. and he feels a little out of place here, but he'd do anything for you. especially when you've always been so supportive of him; attending all of his games and putting up with his crazy friends. compared to that, this is nothing. so, he decides to distract himself by taking in his surroundings.

everything at the fashion show is pink; the backdrop, the runway, the advertisements. save for the spanning glass ceiling, currently revealing the gorgeous starry sky, it's all pink. one of your favorite colors, as you'd told him on your first date when he'd given you a bouquet of pink roses. at first he wasn't sure if you just told him that as filler, like many of the shallower girls he'd met before. the first time he visited your apartment, though, he could tell you hadn't been lying.

pink is your color, and you'd undoubtedly be in your element here.

as much as kageyama would love to keep you to himself, he knows a beautiful woman like you was meant to be adored by the world. he's just lucky he's the one you come home to every night. he can't wait to see you.

the lights in the venue darken, and he knows it's almost time. the cameras are ready, some people in the crowd are even pulling their phones out, but tobio wants to take everything in with his own eyes (he's definitely gonna find the pictures online later, anyways).

the music switches, and all the way at the end he sees you walk out. he feels his heartbeat accelerate in a familiar way. even if you aren't close enough for him to see well, your mere presence is enough. he's sure hoshiumi would have some smart comment for him right now about how much of a 'simp' he is, but that thought is quickly cast from his mind as you strut ever closer.

you seem to have a talent for holding him in a trance, his eyes unable to move from your form. he remembers how excited you were when you'd initially told him you'd be walking first. while he didn't entirely understand what it meant at the time, he'd held you close and told you how proud he was of you, in his own quiet kageyama way. it was something he had mostly missed out on growing up, especially after his grandfather passed. you'd helped him mature so much emotionally, never would his high school teammates believe he was capable of being so open, proud of someone else. but it comes so easily with you, he doesn't really care what they think is or isn't uncharacteristic of him. to see you now in all your glory was truly something.

as you reach the end of the catwalk, you pause to pose and have even more pictures taken. like a goddess, he thinks, and he's just one of the many worshippers basking in your light. despite all of the bright lights and cameras flashing in your eyes, you look straight at him and wink.

to say he's overwhelmed with emotion would be an understatement. but he's kageyama tobio, so he doesn't show it on his face. no, he feels it all in his chest, a warm feeling spreading through his body. it persists even as you turn around, huge wings blocking most of you.

and in that moment, his brain can only piece together one thought: you're his angel.

———

time seems to be creeping by incredibly slowly as you wait for your cue. as the first vs angel walking, it's up to you to set a precedent for the rest of the girls, as well as the tone for the show. you're used to having everyone's eyes on you, but something about this feels different. it feels as though the weight of the world is on your shoulders, though there's really only the pressure of the 15 pound jewel-encrusted wings on your back.

you take a deep breath, closing your eyes to calm yourself. your thoughts drift to tobio, the man of your dreams and the most supportive boyfriend in the world.

"what's got you looking so giddy?" an american model—jennifer if you remember correctly— asks you with a knowing smirk.

you open your eyes, feeling heat in your face as you look at her. you playfully swat at her.

"none of your business, you!" you laugh, as it's likely she already knows. she smiles, teasing you further about your 'smoking hot volleyball player boyfriend' as you retaliate using her american football boyfriend against her. although you don't understand much about the sport, you've heard some of the other girls ask her about the 'quarterback', so you try the same. it's a nice distraction from all of the anxiety you're feeling.

a woman with a headset walks towards the two of you, and you take that as a sign to wish jennifer luck before meeting the woman halfway. despite her serious demeanor, she shoots you a small smile and tells you to take your place.

you stand, perfectly posed and ready to walk, feeling the beat of the music. with one last gentle push from someone behind you as your cue, you make your way to the stage.

you doubt anyone would be able to tell how nervous you were just minutes ago, giant angel wings bouncing as you strut down to the end of the catwalk. the numerous lights and flashing of cameras strike the crystals on your bodysuit, shimmering brilliant rainbows everywhere.

you know tobio's sitting there, even if the bright lights illuminating you and the stage make it hard to see his face. at this point, you're sure you'd recognize him anywhere. though you can't go too far (you're under a semi-strict contract with the expectations of what you're supposed to do on the runway), you want to pay tribute to your wonderful man somehow.

when you reach the end of the catwalk, you pause to pose for the cameras. you look down to where tobio is sitting, giving him a flirtatious wink before subconsciously smiling and turning around to strut back down the line, passing another model as you do.

you let out the breath you hadn't even realized you'd been holding, being handed a water by one person and congratulated by lots of others. you thank everyone and watch from behind the scenes as the other girls walk out, making a strange look at one that you think you've seen in tobio's comment section but ultimately laughing it off and wishing her luck, too.

after watching a little more of the show, you excuse yourself back to have a moment alone.

scrolling through your phone in the makeup area, you open twitter (idc that it's x now i'm dying on this hill), only to see you're tagged in a video posted only a few minutes ago. it has a ton of likes considering how long it's been up, so you click on it to try and figure out what's going on.

you see yourself from mere minutes ago, confidently strutting down the catwalk before reaching the end and sending a very obvious wink towards your man. the person turns their phone to catch tobio's reaction and it's a face you're more than used to. from the first time you met, he's looked at you like you're the most radiant person he's ever met, brighter than the sun, in an almost reverent way. you're even able to tell- he's clearly smiling. not his full-blown, 'creepy' smile, just the faint upturning of his lips but certainly more than most had ever seen from him. it's a look that's so entirely tobio, and you love it more than anything.

'i should've known there'd be people live-tweeting, but this is fast!', you think, impressed by your amazing fans.

you scroll down to the comment section, holding in a laugh

'oh my god i'm so single (T∩T)'

'he's down BAD'

'if (y/n) middle name (l/n) was my gf i'd be the same way tbh…'

you smile, liking a few of the comments before setting your phone back down, staring in the mirror and loving what you see.

———

it's late at night (or technically early in the morning) when the two of you get back to your hotel room, with a beautiful view of the manhattan skyline. the both of you are entirely exhausted, immediately getting into your respective night routines before meeting in bed.

you roll over, surprised to see tobio sitting in his phone. laying your head in his shoulder, you look to see what he's doing (not that you don't trust him, you're just surprised to see him on his phone so late). you catch him in the middle of saving an unedited-how else would it be up so fast- picture of you someone had posted from earlier.

"aww, it's like you like me, tobio," you tease, reaching your arm around him in a comfortable half-hug. as if you couldn't find him any sweeter, he tilts your head up from his shoulder to look you deep in the eyes.

"i love you." he says quietly, dark blue eyes shining brilliantly. it's the soft side of him you love, the usual serious tobio that everyone else knows has opened himself up and bared his soul to you. who knew three words could mean so much?

"i love you, too." you smile happily, trying to hold in the happy tears that are fighting their way out of your eyes. you slowly lean in, as he meets you halfway.

it's what all the tabloids, your closest friends, and even your parents say to you every-time you see them.

you can't agree more; he's the perfect man for you. tobio is able to understand the weight of being in the spotlight, millions of eyes on you, and he keeps you grounded. he's been your date to every social event, awards show, concert, sporting event, you name it. at the same time, you both are always there for one another, even with no cameras around. tobio's your safe space away from all of the pressures of being famous (and just being human, too). he's anything but a pr relationship, that's for sure.

which is why you're so excited, today of all days especially.

your boyfriend is competing in the 2016 summer olympic games, one of the most impressive feats an athlete can accomplish.

even if tobio can be quiet, not bothering to talk about what it is he's thinking about most of the time, you know that this has been a dream of his since he was a little boy. it's quite literally the farthest he can go in the sport he's loved forever, and he gets to do it with his close friends by his side, too.

your heart swells with pride just thinking about it. you're so happy he has this opportunity.

the unfortunate consequence of it, though, is that you haven't seen him in two weeks. well, that's slightly dramatic. he's able to text you occasionally, but nothings the same as waking up in his arms. other than games, of course, he's restricted to practice and the olympic village.

the only times you've really seen him in-person are watching his games, where you have a limited time afterwards to hug him before he's whisked away from you to start the same cycle over again.

it's been very lonely without him. your friend even sent you a twitter post someone had made about how sad you looked and how 'no one ever sees [you] without [your] boyfriend usually'. you kind of laughed at that, both at the ridiculous picture taken of you and at the fact that the caption might be true.

you miss him so much.

that's why you're both excited and nervous that today is the very last possible match: olympic finals.

entering the (at this point) familiar arena, you make your way to the side designated for japan. your seat is pretty close to the front, but still high enough so that you can see all of the court. that part is important, since your tobio rarely stays in one spot when he's out there.

you pull out your phone, shooting a text to your friend and then one to tobio, despite the fact that he definitely won't see it until after the game. you're pulled out of your focus by a man with a microphone held to your face.

"miss japan! miss (l/n), are you excited to be here today?" he looks at you excitedly, camera aimed at your face.

you can never seem to escape the 'reporters' from random news sites, especially here. it's not too surprising that they want to know your reaction to your boyfriend being in the finals. you don't want to seem rude, though, so once you recover from the shock of being interrupted, you respond calmly.

"of course i am. i'm lucky to have someone i know and love playing, too." you smile at the camera, waving to anyone who will end up watching this (which is always more people than you think). you can practically hear gushiken-san talking about what a great client he has. 'so humble!'

"yes, kageyama tobio. his performance has been amazing these past few games." he looks at you, expectantly.

"i think his performance is always amazing, but i'm also biased," you joke.

the man smiles at you, the two of you going back and forth for a few more questions, mainly about you and your most recent projects (shouldn't they be focused on the event you're at?), along with digging for any possible hints on where you'll be modeling next.

finally, he thanks you for your time and you're left alone. your attention then shifts to the court, where brazil has gone out to warm up.

your heartbeat picks up its pace, nervous and excited simultaneously.

it's almost time.

when the japanese team walks out, your eyes immediately fall onto number 20. even his warmup is flawless. you barely register the time passing, gaze locked on tobio like he's the only man on earth.

the whistle, signifying the end of warmups and for the teams to lineup, brings you back to reality. this is really happening. this is what he's worked so hard for.

this is his destiny.

————

finals. olympic finals. a game away from total victory, or bitter defeat.

his heart has been pounding for the entirety of the last set. tobio has always been able to keep his cool during matches, but something about the pressure of the biggest match in the entire world has managed to creep into his head. it even cost the team a point earlier. a foot fault has rarely ever happened to him before, yet here of all games it would. tobio knows he has to put that behind him, though, especially with the score now.

28-27. match point. and he's up to serve.

slowly moving back behind the line, a chill goes down his spine. the arena feels dead silent, despite the sheer number of spectators. he closes his eyes, pushing out a final exhale as his ears barely register the whistle.

this is it.

his entire life has led up to this exact moment. his serve undoubtedly making or breaking the game, and his reputation. it feels as though the weight of the world is on his shoulders, crushing him and depriving his lungs of air. like sinking deep underwater, he's nearly swallowed whole.

a saving grace is waiting for him, in the form of you. he pictures your beautiful face, smiling up at him like he's the only man in the entire world. like he's invincible.

tobio knows you're watching him right now. what are you thinking? about that missed serve earlier, and how lame he is? no. that thought is quickly swiped away. he thinks of how you'll run up to him as soon as the game is over, win or lose, take him in your arms and kiss him like no one is watching. he can't wait.

with complete precision, he tosses the ball up, going through his footwork as if in slow motion. he's done this a million times before, and yet this is different.

at the apex of his jump, he meets the ball. he swears he can see you now, hands over your mouth, gripping tightly in anticipation. he's sure he's never slammed the ball harder.

the ball drills into the back left corner, shanked by brazil's opposite.

the arena immediately becomes deafening, shouts and cheers erupting from every single side of kageyama as he barely registers that he ended the olympics on an ace. his teammates are crowding him, excited (especially bokuto), and yet all he can think of is you.

the next several minutes are spent awarding the medals, kageyama standing with his team on the first place podium. despite this being one of the greatest moments of his life, his face lacks a visible smile. he's glancing around the arena, searching throughout the crowd.

a tap on his shoulder finally pulls him out of it, though he turns around to be met with the girl he was looking for, you.

his eyes widen for a split second before you basically throw yourself onto him, hugging him so tightly that you can feel the cold medal through your shirt. tobio's arms quickly wrap around you, and even despite the sweat you move closer to him.

"i'm so proud of you." you smile brightly, amazed by this man that you're lucky enough to call your boyfriend. your hands have found their way to his cheeks, thumbs at the edge of his lips.

kageyama's never been big on pda, but he just won an olympic gold medal and has the prettiest girl in the world by his side. he can let a kiss with you slide, especially when you're looking at him like that.

you drown out the cheers and ignore the flashing of several cameras, lost in your love for tobio. it's only you and your lover, locked in a kiss full of emotion and yet simply enough to convey your feelings.

when the two of you pull away, it's like you suddenly remember just where you are, and you feel slightly shy (which is shocking, for you). tobio, on the other hand, is smiling down at you. really smiling, the smile that he told you people always thought was 'creepy', but you loved because you know it's genuine.

unfortunately, the two of you are pulled out of your moment together.

"kageyama, that was absolutely amazing! how are you feeling after such an amazing moment?!" a reporter rapidly speaks, trying to be heard over the loud environment. unlike the one interviewing you earlier, this woman appears to be from a more official american news station, trying to get an interview from the man who won japan the game.

tobio looks between her and the camera, confused, before he leans into the microphone.

"i love my girlfriend," comes his very choppy english. you can't stop yourself from smiling brightly, the camera turning to focus on you behind him.

he pulls you away after that, and you shoot the reporter and cameraman an apologetic look before following after him eagerly.

"thank you, hon." you joke, commenting on his earlier answer to the woman.

he looks to you. "it's true."

you lean up to kiss him again, hands tenderly holding his shoulders.

"i know. you're so sweet to me… can i wear your medal for a sec?" you eye the big circle of gold.

kageyama can only roll his eyes at your quick shift, though he still ends up taking the medal off and over his head, placing it on you like you've just created all of the stars in the sky.

—————

"tobio, what flavor should we get? i'm stuck between strawberry shortcake and fudge brownie." you stare through the glass case at the grocery store, pondering about the endless assortment of ice cream.

in the reflection, you can see your boyfriend aimlessly looking around the aisle, before his eyes catch onto your figure. you catch his lips turn up so subtly that you'd have never noticed it if he wasn't the love of your life.

he ponders your statement for a second, before coming up next to you and opening the case, grabbing both of the cartons you listed. you look up at him, confused.

"why not both?" he turns back to you, small smile still present.

you smile brightly at him, entranced. he's so perfect.

"i love you, tobio."

"i love you, (y/n)."

you let yourself fall into his side (the arm where he's not holding the ice cream, of course), wrapping your arm around his back as he does the same to you.

on your way to the self-checkout, you snatch one of the magazines on the edge of an aisle, plastered with a photo of you and tobio after his medal was awarded. you skim the bubble in the bottom right corner, one questioning any talk of marriage between the two of you.

you jokingly point to the bubble, showing it to your boyfriend.

"what do you have to say to this, hm?"

tobio eyes it, quickly reading before he smiles at you and kisses your head. he turns away to pay for the ice cream, ignoring your question.

"hey!"

tsukishima kei, the man of your dreams and the love of your life. the two of you had met in university and hit it off relatively quickly. he was studying history and archaeology because he had a thing for dinosaurs (he very much still has a thing for dinosaurs), and you thought he was adorable despite his initial demeanor. the serious, jerkish persona was the most evident part of him, though after you got to know him you discovered many other facets to his personality that had you falling in love. you dated for a few years, and finally married last summer at a destination wedding attended by just your parents and chosen friends.

since then, you guys have been extremely busy finalizing information with your marriage, house, and your job. kei already had his job at the sekai city museum lined up directly out of college, but you weren't as lucky. after months of job searching and apartment hunting, everything has worked out. now you have the time to see your friends on a more regular basis again.

"ready?" he asks you. you only smile and nod at him before you open your door. walking up the steps to tadashi's front door, you aren't surprised when you knock and find the door is unlocked.

"come in guys!" you hear his friendly voice from another room, further in the house.

unfortunately, yachi is working. otherwise, your close friend would have without a doubt been waiting at the door for the two of you. she had already apologized profusely to you, via both texts and calls. you promised her you understood, not that you would ever be upset with her anyways.

kicking your outdoor shoes off and replacing them with slippers, kei takes your light jacket off of your shoulders and hangs it for you. your eyes are drawn to your beautiful husband (he 'hates' when you call him that), his face solemn though you know he's excited to see his best friend again. finally, the two of you make your way towards the direction of tadashi's voice.

"long time no see!" tadashi jokes, and you smile brightly.

"it's so nice to see you tadashi" you kindly smile. in his arms sits a little baby. "who's this little angel?" you ask. you've seen pictures of the little boy, both on social media and from tadashi and hitoka themselves. he's only a few months old, but he's grown very fast. you want to scream from how cute he looks when he randomly pops up on your feed.

"this is my son, haru", he replies. at the sound of his own name, haru opens his eyes to gaze up at his dad.

"he's so cute!" you compliment, "can i hold him?". your arms already extended before he answers, and you don't miss kei's playful scoff at your eagerness.

"excited much?" he snarks. you jokingly roll your eyes at him before you again gesture to yamaguchi.

"of course! and again, hitoka's really upset she couldn't be here. yajakudo always needs her at the most random times" he apologized. he carefully hands the baby over to you, and you make sure his head is supported. he's looking up at you with the most incredulous, wide eyes that remind you of his mother.

"it's no problem at all, that girl worries too much. now go away! have some well-deserved catchup time. haru's safe with me."

again, hearing his name makes haru look up at you and smile, two little teeth poking out already. you can't stop yourself from the audible 'aww' that comes out, coaxing him to smile even bigger.

you sit yourself down with the child on the sofa and leave the guys to talk in the attached kitchen. it's close enough for them to still see you (not that tadashi doesn't trust you, it's just his dad instincts. and kei just likes looking at you), but far enough where you can't hear them in case they discuss something more private.

your heart swells at the adorable baby's sweet (mostly) gummy smile. you can't keep the grin off your face, babbling incoherent nonsense that makes haru laugh. it's the perfect positive feedback loop of happiness. you and kei haven't really talked much about children yet, since the two of you had really only just gotten settled into your lives together. you knew you wanted them eventually, though. haru seemed to be trying to push that to sooner rather than later.

from the other room, kei is trying his best to keep himself composed. he can barely focus on whatever tadashi is telling him about, eyes instead trained on you. his beautiful wife (you love when he calls you that), looking like a natural is almost too much. he hadn't considered the two of you having children just yet, (you'd only just found an apartment after all), though seeing you right now had him rethinking everything.

"you want one?" tadashi chuckles. he'd been caught.

kei lets out a signature, unconscious 'tch', but his best friend can see right through him. finally, he tears his eyes away from you to look at his friend. he certainly doesn't catch himself looking over at you every once in a while after that.

you only get up once haru has been asleep in your arms for a few minutes. carefully handing him back to tadashi, you quietly thank him and promise to visit again soon. he bids the both of you goodbye, offering kei a wink and goofy gesture. your husband rolls his eyes at this, heading over to the car where you're already waiting.

once you're both in, he doesn't start the car. very unusual for him, since tsukishima kei typically loves getting away from social events as quickly as possible. you turn to face him, trying to gauge if something's wrong. you're sure he can feel your eyes on him, even if he's blind as a bat.

he doesn't look at you, and doesn't even break from his usual monotone:

"let's have a baby"

"WHAT?"

you're suddenly woken up in the middle of the night to loud wails coming from another room.

somewhat reluctantly, you push up onto your elbows before stepping out of bed and onto the cold hardwood floor. a chill goes up your spine from the contact, but you can still hear the shrill noise from across the hall, so you put your slippers on and make your way towards the source of the noise (neglecting to notice the other half of your bed is already empty).

the light yellow room would be almost entirely dark, if not for the bright full moon shining through the window (and the moon nightlight, too). it is now peacefully quiet, with the noise of a small fan in the corner being the only sound you can register at first.

unsurprisingly, your husband is already there, holding your baby girl close to him. kei always seems to beat you to your daughter's room. he's whispering something you can't quite hear to her. even though she's mere months old and doesn't understand the meaning behind his words, she always loves to hear his voice (something the two of you have in common). her eyes beginning to close again, your heart melts at this little life the two of you have created.

looking up to kei's face, his eyes are bright despite being woken up at 2am. your husband has never been one to broadcast his positive emotions, but you know inside he's happy. your arm finds its way around his back, and his eyes switch down to you.

"was it worth it?" you ask him lightheartedly, whispering.

kei looks out the window, at the endless expanse of sky. he's held down by the warmth of his daughter and wife, his two favorite girls in the entire world. he doesn't know how he got so lucky, but in this moment there's nowhere and no one else he'd rather be.