𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 . kageyama tobio

14. kiss me

narrator's pov.

you weren't even halfway through practice when tobio just had to start complaining about something. this time, it was towards hinata, "you're doing it wrong, i told you that-"

shoyo was distracted.

"HEY," tobio smacked the upside of his head.

"WHY DID YOU DO THAT?"

"LISTEN TO ME," he groaned.

your two favourite third-years came by to break them up before any drama started, ryūnosuke and yū standing directly in between the two boys, "go to the corner."

"what?" shoyo looked at the libero in genuine confusion.

"I SAID GO TO THE CORNER," he yelled in reply, "STAND THERE, AND FACE THE WALL, AND THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU'VE DONE."

"WHAT HE SAID," ryūnosuke agreed, shaking his friend's hand behind his back.

neither tobio or shoyo bothered to fight it and they both just went and sat in seperate corners of the gym.

"tell me you got the ick," kei looked expectantly at you.

"i'm sorry."

he shook his head in disappointment, "i'm beyond embarrassed for you."

"it won't happen again," you held out your pinky.

he slapped your hand away gently, "has no one ever taught you not to make promises you can't keep?"

"i'm sorry, i just look at him sitting in the corner and see his clothes, then i think about what's under his clothes, then i think about what we were doing when-"

"i get the picture," he interrupted.

you weren't ever paying attention to him. you were looking at tobio's arms wrapped around his spread knees.

"kei, whatever picture you're getting, it's bigger."

"i already know what his dick looks like, y/n, " kei raised an eyebrow at you, watching you daydreaming with your clipboard clutched tightly to your chest.

"have you ever noticed how legitimately pretty it is?" you asked.

"i haven't analysed it."

"you should," you replied.

he slowly turned his head toward you,"bro, did you analyse my dick?"

"yes?"

"when it was hard though, right?"

"not right."

"i genuinely hate you."

"yours was the skinniest i've taken but it was probably the longest."

"stop, stop talking," he began walking away, "we are NOT friends after this conversation."

—

it was another night of listening to venting. your mom talking, and talking, and talking for hours. she was lying on her bed, crying about your father.

no matter how shitty you felt, you would never leave her alone. you sat with her and listening, stroking her hair back and nodding.

"i know, mom," you whispered.

"and i know he's a shitty dad, but he's the only one you have," she sobbed.

"he didn't just hurt me, he hurt you too," you said.

her crying intensified. it was hard to deal with it all on your own. "half the time, i was only with him because i was lonely, and he still fucked with me. never trust men."