Ya Know What I Love About Fan Fiction?

May i please be added to your Reborn Taglist

Yep, for sure!!

Author babe.....🥺 your angst.....has feed me well😭

Oop😳 I’m glad you like them so much🥺💜

Reborn (Bokuto/Akaashi x Reader) ~Chapter 7~

(Supernatural/Soulmate AU)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: How do normal people react when they get kidnapped by a vampire and a wizard claiming to be their soulmates? Because you try to choke them out with their own breakfasts. But maybe that’s just you. 

A/N: Ayooo happy 2021 y’all! We fucking made it! I’m glad y’all are here to kick off the new year with me, and as a celebration (and a lil apology bc I’m gonna have to go on hiatus again), here’s the next part to Reborn! I wish you all luck and happiness in the new year, and, as always, enjoy!

Tag List: @burntcilantro  @alloverbutterflies  @neonghxst  @zaejia  @momothepeachgirl  @black-veil-chemicalz  @bumblebeel  @blxkstar  @keigosbitch  @spicyiwa  @rikorene  @idiot-juice-enthusiast  @cherriomilkmangos  @floriane4536  @shimy-deko  @lanceyfancypants  @asteroikawa  @bokutowo  @ichiraku-verse  @samie-babie  @astro-anomaly  @hq149  @paganandshit  @erinoikawa​  @missbuwan  @thatonesinglefake​  (some *still* don’t work 😔)

Word count: 8155

        Some days you couldn’t stand to look at yourself in the mirror. When you’re feeling guilty after a buffet or just not wanting to face the music of an all-nighter. Maybe even after running over a squirrel on the road.

        The back of your mind whispered now was one of those times, but you ignored it. 

        Tears streamed down Bokuto’s face, flushing his cheeks and highlighting his golden irises. And yet, it seemed he still couldn’t find it in himself to meet your gaze. 

        “You’re a monster and I hate your guts,” you sneered, letting a foreign wave of fury wash over you. It was like your emotions had been hijacked and someone was pressing all your buttons at once. Your inability to control yourself made you even more pissed off. 

        Akaashi could only stand by and watch, pain and disappointment reigning on his face as Bokuto bawled like the baby he was. 

        You shifted your gaze back to the vampire and stepped closer to his bars. “Your head is emptier than the coffin in my grave. You always act all tough, but I know what you really are--a sad, old, lonely vampire clutching onto the only friend in his life while chasing after girls.” I don’t mean that. “And do you wanna know what else?”

        Like the prick of a needle, a headache stirred at the base of your neck and stretched to the top of your skull. Small jabs of pain dug under the superficial layers of your scalp and pierced the edges of your brain. Stop please. I don’t mean any of this.

        Just when you bit your tongue in effort to fend off the ache, Bokuto met your gaze for the first time in minutes. 

        Agony dominated his innocent eyes. His lower lip was drawn into his mouth and gnawed on enough to trail crimson down his chin. Each bone in his body appeared to tremble while his Adam’s apple bobbed every few seconds. But not once did he speak. 

        He didn’t beg you to stop or plead for you to take it all back. There was this aura around him that told you he was going to lie down and take this without even a hint of fighting back. No matter what you threw at him, he was willing to be your punching bag for however long you would let him.

        And that boiled your blood. 

        You stomped closer to his cage and shoved a hand through the bars, reaching out for him only to snicker when he dove away. 

        “Just as I thought.” You rolled your eyes and pulled away. “You’re a coward. Afraid to let me even touch you. Doesn’t that make you wonder how I felt after the last encounter we had?”

        He whimpered.

        “Exactly. I was terrified. You tore into me like roadkill. Like you wanted to kill me. How does that make you feel, Bokuto? Do you hate yourself for what you’ve done? Do you even feel bad? Or is it just that the beast you bury inside yourself finally took over and-”

        “That’s enough.”

        “Oh!” You simper at Akaashi. “Look who’s decided to join the party-”

        “That’s enough!” The wizard’s nostrils flare as he shakes his head at you. Voice lowered, he mumbles to himself incoherently while studying you like a hawk. “You don’t mean any of that, YN.”

        “Oh yeah? Does your light magic tell you that?”

        Akaashi’s eyes narrow at you. A million questions fly through his mind right before you while he reads every inch of your face. Then his lips part.

        “Does your stomach hurt, my love?” His tone is surprisingly gentle compared to the scowl he has carved into his features. You stumble back and furrow your brows. 

        “What?”

        “Do you have a headache? Do your toes itch?”

        “What the hell are you on?”

        His jaw irks and his shackles tap on the iron bars of his cell while he ponders. 

        Meanwhile, Bokuto sat crumpled on his knees, looking like his soul has torn in two. His head has lowered to his chest and dust stirs on the ground where his tears fall. Both hands lay curled into fists on his thighs, clenching and unclenching in an irregular pattern. 

        Frustration coils around your throat, forcing you to speak as you grow impatient. “Spit it out, Akaashi. What the fuck are you looking for?”

        Once more, the wizard’s eyes raise to meet yours head on as he studies you for a moment, looking stumped. “There’s got to be something… oh!” Standing up straighter, his cuffs clatter and clang as he gathers your attention, watching your every move. 

        “My love, how do you feel about us?”

        “Why does that-”         “Do you love us?”

        “W-what?” you exclaim, staggering back. In your chest, your heart jumps and stutters, gathering a zoo of butterflies in your stomach. For some reason, the question… excites you in a way. Not in an angry way, either, but more so a “now’s the time, just spit it out” way.

        Except you had nothing to spit. 

        Or, more precisely, you had nothing you wanted to spit. 

        Yes! Say it!

        Like your lips were sewn together, you force yourself to stay silent. No words seem to gather in your mind at Akaashi’s question. Wasn’t it too soon for something like that?

        Of course it was. And you… h-hated them anyway, right?... No?

        Fuck. 

        What was love anyway? Was it wanting to spend time around Bokuto and Akaashi? Was it wanting to be held in their embrace for as long as they would allow? Maybe it was wanting to have conversations about the dumbest things that slowly grow more serious and intense, or yell at sports games on television that you didn’t even know the rules to. 

        Surely it wasn’t any of that, because you wanted all of that. 

        “My love.” Even Bokuto had perked up to answer the question, head tilting just enough to glance at you through his lashes. Akaashi, however, seemed to read you like a book. “Please. Answer the question.”

        “I… y-... I… love… you.” You choked your way through each syllable, then the words came out as easy as a breath. “I love you.”

        A giant weight lifted off your shoulders and suddenly you could breathe again. The constriction around your throat lessened into nothing and your chest felt so light you could laugh. The freedom to have control over your emotions and your thoughts was almost as intoxicating as the dopamine flooding to your brain. 

        Akaashi looked like he could pass out in relief while Bokuto collapsed onto his back and starfished. “Thank fuck,” the former sighed. 

        It was only when weeps began to emit from the latter that you realized you were on damage control duty. “Oh God, Bo, I’m so sorry.”

        All he did was cry harder, body shuddering with every whine. Remorse tugged you to the floor and led you to reach for his outstretched leg, patting the top of his foot just enough to gather his attention. 

        “Bo please! Look at me.”

        He grew quieter, but only a touch as you struggled to catch his eye. You shook his foot hard, but it was only when you used all the strength you could muster to drag him toward you that he finally gave in and met your gaze. 

        “Bokuto… Bo. I… I’m so-” you bit your lip as a sob caught in your throat. 

        You loved these men--truly, you did. The thought of losing their smiles, their warm hugs, the care and gentleness they had only for you… it killed you. After today, you weren’t quite sure you could manage another second without them. 

        These two… powerful, tender, doting beings. They were prepared to risk their lives for you and more; you couldn’t help but feel yourself falling harder for them by the second. 

        “Bokuto, I love you,” you mumbled through a wave of emotion, “and I’m so sorry.”

        The words hit home and you could see the spiral it flung the vampire into. Love, anger, sadness, joy--each one passed before your eyes in his very own as he studied your face. 

        No one had ever looked at you like that. 

        And yet it felt like he’d been doing it for centuries. 

        One hard yank and you were tugged flat against the cell bars as Bokuto embraced you. 

        So warm. So, so, dreadfully warm and adoring that it stung the corners of your eyes. In his hold, you felt like you could face anything head on, because he-

        No.

        Because both of them would be by your side. The wizard and vampire before you were willing to take a bullet and more just to see you smile. A love like that was rare. 

        Destined.

        You owed them so much for how they’d loved you. 

        So you patted Bokuto’s back, running a hand through his familiarly calming hair just for good measure before pulling away and stepping back. 

        Akaashi’s hand fell from its place on your back and returned to his side before both men faced you. 

        A rush of responsibility ran through you like a bucket of ice, refreshing you for what was to come. 

        They had taken care of and loved you for so long, and now it was time for you to return the favor. 

        “I’m going to get you guys out of here.”

        Before they could argue, you dashed up the stairs and out of the dungeon, in search of the man who had started it all. 

                                ~~~

        As expected, the halls of Kuroo’s mansion were chilling to the bone as you stepped through the occasional moon’s ray in search of the cat. 

        Opalescent, marble floors absorbed and amplified your every footstep as you made your way through the halls, shoes squealing every few strides. In the heat of the moment, your grand idea to locate Kuroo’s room and steal the key to the cells was… overzealous at best.

        At worst, it had one too many holes. For one, you had no clue where Kuroo’s room was. For two, you had no idea where you were. Unlike Akaashi and Bokuto’s home, there was no atmosphere of familiarity and, more importantly, no vampire or wizard to direct and guide you around the place. Here, you were a fish out of water. 

        Though, you had to admit the supernatural must all have the same taste in interior decorating. Ancient-yet-creepy paintings of landscapes or figures seemed to litter the ruby walls and you barely managed to not stub your toe on the sporadically-placed vases and tables of the corridors. Emerald green vines framed each window that lit your path along with the single chandelier you found consistent with every high ceiling of the halls. 

        And yet, not a sound could be heard. Your feet began to twinge at the miles you felt like you’d walked in search of… well, you didn’t know what, exactly. If Kuroo found you, you had no idea what to say to him. However, you also had no clue on how to locate his bedroom either. 

        At this point, you were praying for a miracle while wandering the halls like a lost kitten. 

        Not a single soul had crossed your path, not even a lazing Kenma who’d barely found the effort to locate a couch before crashing to play his game. 

        Stuck in a labyrinth of ruby and white halls, you wanted to tear your own hair out for leaving the dungeon with a half-baked plan. Of course, you’d often thought of knocking on any one of the wooden doors you’d come across on your weary travels, but there was some apprehension that came with each potential interaction. 

        Though you were certain Kuroo had informed everyone that he’d okayed you going down to meet Bokuto and Akaashi, you were positive he wouldn’t be okay with you wandering the halls. Now was one of few times you actually wished you had supernatural abilities of some sorts so you could defend yourself should any one of the werecats housing the mansion find you. 

        “YN?” Like that one. 

        A hand settles on your shoulder, somehow scaring even more of the bejesus that had already fled from you when the voice had first spoken. 

        As you turn, the face that greets you is even less surprising than the smile that rests on its face. Kuroo drops his hand from your shoulder, leaving a burn in its wake as he steps closer to you. The distance between you two could violate the rules of not only basic personal space but also any high school prom’s as well. 

        “Reunion’s over already?” And there it was--that sly, devious glint in his glowing eyes that you so dearly wanted to smother. 

        For an instant, you feel like a rat just waiting for the trap’s mechanism to snap down on your neck and end your suffering. 

        However, something in you urges to not give up so easily. You still had a lot to fight for, and judging by the anticipatory look in Kuroo’s eyes, you weren’t caught just yet.

        But… just how could you worm your way out of this one?

        “I, uh…” Think YN, think! “Umm…”

        Cue the lightbulb.

        “I couldn’t stand to be in that damned room with them any longer!” you sneered uneasily. You mustered as much disgust on your face as possible, and with Kuroo right in front of you, such a task was almost too easy. 

        The corners of his mouth turned upward devilishly. “Good. So I assume that means you’re…?”

        Your brow raises before you realize and rush to finish his question. “O-oh, yes, yes! I am totally and completely… over… them. Boy do I really hate their guts.”

        Though you weren’t exactly up for a Golden Globe, it seemed anything you gave Kuroo right now he would lap up like a starved kitten. 

        It wasn’t hard to see that Kuroo was willing to try and get you over Bokuto and Akaashi by any means necessary, but him being so desperate gave you a way past the very own walls he thought he had built so well. 

        If this was chess, you were almost sure you had him in check. 

        You just needed to make one last move to really ensure such a swindle. 

        A breath escaped Kuroo’s lips easily when his jaw dropped at your hug. One minute you were across from him, giving your best impersonation of spite. The next, your arms were wrapped around his midsection and your face was pressed into his chest. 

        Cologne of sea salt mixed with sandalwood wafted up both your nostrils with one fell swoop, invading and fogging your mind. Though not altogether unpleasant, there was something simply too foreign and external about it that made it leagues behind what you knew. Any day would you rather take in Akaashi’s scent of lavender with hints of spices and Bokuto’s pine and leather. 

        Not that you were a serial man-sniffer though.

        Nudging yourself back to the task at hand, you waited until it seemed just safe enough to search Kuroo’s jacket pockets for anything key-shaped. 

        The man in your arms seemed too shell-shocked to notice. In the last minute, he hadn’t made a single sound nor movement to reciprocate the hug; instead, all you could hear was the expected mouth-breathing of a dropped jaw. 

        Ever so slowly, you run your hands along his jacket in what you hope seems like an adoring motion, and yet there are no suspicious lumps--anywhere, thankfully. 

        No little bumps along the polyester, crimson fabric that seemed to resemble anything but a candy wrapper. Part of you wanted to search the pockets of his shorts but logic told you touching anything lower than the waist for a hug would definitely not end in a hug. 

        In any case, it seemed your internal debate on whether to cop a feel of Kuroo’s pants’ pockets or not was no longer the biggest issue. Kuroo finally came back to reality and returned the embrace. 

        It was obvious this was no friendly hug to him; he believed it to mean so much more than that. Long, athletic arms wound around your waist and tightened to the point where you struggled to inhale more than a gasp. Black locks tickled your neck the instant Kuroo dropped his head onto your shoulder with a smile so large you could feel it through your sweatshirt. 

        He was happy, so, so happy to finally have you in his hold. From what you could feel, even his own hands were shaking at the thought. 

        “God, I-... I’ve missed you so much, kitten.” He nuzzles deeper into your neck. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to have you in my arms again.”

        Kuroo was in love. Even the blind could see it. Over the centuries, he had fallen for you so hard he was actually shaking with joy from getting to hug you again. 

        The man before you was lonelier than you ever thought. He was a king without a queen, a man without his woman.

        A husband without his wife.

        Oh right. He-... We were… married.

        Centuries ago. Many, many centuries ago. And yet, Kuroo still believes that bond can be mended. He wanted that girl… you back, and now…

        Now you’ve just resparked that hope that he could have you again.

        But he couldn’t. The hug was just a ruse; it was just some way for you to get back with your real soulmates. 

        This poor, rejected cat before you would be left behind yet again. 

        A horrible, terrible ripping scratched at your heart. Isn’t he innocent in all this?

        Akaashi’s words, muddled but still clear in their purpose, came back to your mind all at once. 

        “He went mad without his queen. Many supernatural species perished under his tyrannical reign, and as a result became extinct. In the remaining villages, he hung posters of you. Wanted, dead or alive.”

        As kind as he was, he was still one of the main reasons children are scared to leave their beds at night. Monsters, vicious and uncaring, will attack just for spite. Supernatural beings are no different. 

        Perhaps, somewhere along the way he had changed. But you couldn’t place all your hope on a maybe. 

        This was still the man who held the ones you loved locked up under your own two feet. He was still the one who ordered his soldier to shoot when he’d first found you so many years ago. 

        Kuroo was still the man who’d made you become cursed. He was still the one who’d started it all. 

        “Kuroo?”

        “Hmm?”

        “Can I sleep in your room tonight?”

                                ~~~

        His room was, of course, in the deepest, darkest end of a corridor in one half of the mansion you completely forgot existed. Naturally. 

        As if you would disappear any second, Kuroo kept his hand interlocked with yours the entire duration of the walk to his room, and he didn’t dare release it now that you’d arrived. 

        When the lavish double doors open, it’s like you’ve stepped into a larger version of your old apartment. At least, it was easily double the size. 

        Directly across from you is a balcony of marble white and rose gold. Flowers bloom along the railing and lead downward just out of eyesight from the glass doors that trap it outside. Inside, meanwhile, there’s a four poster bed large enough for ten with a frame that reaches just up to the ceiling, covered in black curtains, black sheets and crimson pillows. A plush carpet rug leads to steps up to the enormous bed and the two wooden nightstands on the side of it. Directly opposite of it is a flat screen no doubt visible from space and sitting on a cherry red console. To the left of the TV is one black door and to the right is another. 

        Kuroo leads you inside before you can ogle the room anymore. “You like it?”

        Bitch-

        “Are you pulling my leg right now?” You breathe out, eyes still trying to take in the sheer vastness of the room itself. “Like… holy shit.”

        “I’m glad you like it,” he snickers. “I like seeing you breathless.”

        And, of course, the pervert had to ruin it.

        His comment sobers you up and makes you realize something--searching for that damned key is going to be worse than looking for a needle in a haystack. Fuck me.

        Just as you start inspecting the room with what little time you’ve had inside it, Kuroo spins you to face him. “So…”

        “So…”

        The grin on his face turns soft as he reaches a hand up to caress your face. The touch, however loving, feels wrong. Like “he’s just wiping his germs on your face” wrong. Deep down, you’re thankful the connection between you and your boys is so strong because otherwise you were sure Kuroo’s charm would have worked wonders on you by now. 

        The room was beautiful and Kuroo was being so sweet, but now was your chance. You needed to find that key and get out of here.

        Kuroo’s face leaning in closer to yours drew you back into reality. “I’m glad you like it in here. You can stay as long as you like.” His pupils enlarge, giving you warning signals like no other. 

        His head lowers just a bit closer, lips parted, and just when his eyes flutter closed… 

        Smooch.

        Eyes wide, you watch the floor as Kuroo’s lips press against your cheek. “Can you go get my clothes?”

        Instantly, he pulls away and presses a finger to his lips, gaze shocked and locked on your face. 

        “...From my room, please?”

        “Y-yeah.” He clears his throat. “Yeah, of course. I’ll go… do that.”

        Never before have you seen Kuroo so flustered and if the situation had been less serious than you were sure you would have laughed. Instead, you felt just as antsy as Kuroo, but for an entirely different reason. 

        Without so much as a farewell, Kuroo hastens to leave the room, closing the door behind him and taking what must have been a brisk jog down the hall to cool himself off. 

        You wait until thirty seconds have passed after his steps turned inaudible before you hop to it, foraging every visible inch of the room before going deeper. 

        “It’s okay,” you whisper to yourself as you yank up the carpet, observing a concerning amount of dust. “Just don’t tell Bokuto and Akaashi and there won’t be a problem.”

        Lord knows one of them could probably smell Kuroo on you. You just hope they’ll save the questions for a later date. Like never. 

        No key anywhere. Not in the console, nor the nightstands. Not under the heavy-ass mattress nor behind the curtains of the balcony. Nothing. You even searched in the reading corner that had somehow passed your first survey of the room, on the bookshelves and under the two sofas. Nada.

        Summoning the patience to confront whatever was behind the two doors, you opened each one and, for lack of surprise, observed an abnormally large bathroom and a walk-in closet. 

        For a centuries-old werecat’s closet, it was surprisingly bare. One side was completely empty save for hundreds of hangers on a single metal bar. The other side was only half-full with t-shirts, coats, and suits hanging while jeans and shorts sat gathering dust on the floor. Judging by the look of things, you wouldn’t be surprised if Kuroo came back with more than just one pair of clothes for you.

        Hopefully, by then you would be long gone. 

        The bathroom, however, was much more of a challenge. About twenty cupboards each had their own stock of individual toiletry supplies, and yet not a single one held a key. You even had to perfectly restack twelve packages--not rolls--of toilet paper in the same, annoyingly perfect pyramid shape. He even had feminine products, but you supposed there should be no surprise there. 

        Obviously, he’s been preparing for you for quite a while. You’d be touched if you weren’t so creeped out by the sight of it altogether. 

        At last, you slumped out of the bathroom with sore arms and legs. Standing on your tiptoes and reaching up into cupboards took a lot more out of you than you thought. Such pain, and all for nothing. 

        Especially when you noticed a glint of something sparkling just above the carved doorway to Kuroo’s room. 

        The key. 

        It had been sitting in plain sight this whole time. However, spotting it wasn’t the issue. Reaching it would be. 

        Regarding the doorway, it was polished wood carved into a perfect arch to fit both doors, and at the top sat the sculpted head of a roaring lion. Just at the top of his dusty mane was the key, and no matter how high you jumped, you knew you wouldn’t be able to reach it. 

        It was high--almost three-of-you-stacked high. The bed was too far away to try and launch yourself, and neither nightstand looked sturdy enough to hold you. So what could…?

        The sofas!

        They were huge and a long ways away. Not only that, but you figured with the amount of time Kuroo had been away that he’d found clothes for you to “sleep in” tonight about a hundred times over. What was truly concerning was that he hadn’t shown up yet.

        Counting your blessings, you didn’t bother wasting any more time. Quickly, you dashed over to one of the black leather sofas and started to push it with all your might.

        Uh oh.

        No, not “uh oh” it was too heavy; in fact, the chair was actually seated on sliders to make mobility easy. 

        What was “uh oh” was the heavy steps finally making their way back to this room. 

        Speak of the goddamn devil.

        The steps weren’t patient or slowed either--it was clear Kuroo was done being away from you for so long. 

        Now or never. 

        If you got caught, you weren’t quite sure you could handle the consequences, so you stopped considering them altogether and moved. 

        You shoved the sofa past the carpet and across the wood floor, catching onto the occasional rock and leaving a scratch in its wake--nothing an all-too adoring werecat would notice. 

        You barely avoided crashing into the doors themselves and hurried to clamber onto the sofa. 

        Move, YN, move move move.

        Barely keeping your balance, you reached for the head of the lion, only to hold back a cry when your fingers barely brushed it’s jaw.

        Fuck, YN he’s getting closer. Think!

        Kuroo’s footsteps were loud, but not as loud as your heartbeat pounding in your ears. 

        Shit, shit, shit!

        You couldn’t reach any better from the arm of the chair, instead just skimming its pointed ear. A sob built in your throat in frustration.

        Please!

        Your only chance was standing on the head of the chair, but according to every physics law ever, that would be fucking impossible. 

        The steps were just outside the door now.

        With one more nervous glance, you pushed all of your weight to lean on the wall just beside the door, stepping one trembling leg up onto the top of the chair’s back.

        The doorknob twisted. 

        NO!

        The door cracked open just as you pushed all your strength onto your lifted leg, propelling yourself up and-

        You missed.

        The door cracked open. 

        “Kuroo!”

        And it stopped there. Another pair of footsteps made their way over to the door and you tensed when the door shifted open just a tad.

        Then it shut completely. 

        The knob twisted back into place and two pairs of footsteps receded just a couple yards away. 

        Kenma’s voice pipes up and Kuroo’s voice whispers back but you don’t spare another second trying to decipher the conversation. 

        Swiftly, you step back up onto the back of the chair and propel yourself up one more time, stretching every ligament in your arm so taut you swear you felt something tear but you don’t mind. 

        The key is cold and made of brass, but it sits between your two fingers all the same. 

        Eyes bulging in effort to hold back a cheer, you’re quick to climb back down and push the chair all the way back to the reading corner just when the conversation in the hall ends. 

        Collapsing into the sofa, you grab a random book off the shelf and tear it open, smoothly inspecting a random page just as the door opens. 

        “YN?” Kuroo steps in and glances around, lips curling into a smile when he spots you in the corner. “Ahh, the mini library. I figured you would like that.”

        “Yep,” you nodded, allowing yourself just the smallest smile of victory so you can wear it as a disguise. “I’ve got myself acquainted here with…” you squint at the page, before pursing your lips and turning the book rightside up, “Gandalf and Bilbo.” 

        “Upside down?”

        “It’s a talent I’m working on. I’ll show you later.”

        Kuroo chuckles before closing the door behind him, dropping an armful of clothes on the bed. 

        “So I wasn’t sure if you wanted the blue sweatshirt or the black one so I brought both. And that same philosophy applied to just about all the other clothes I dug through so,” he gestured to the pile, “go nuts.”

        Setting the book back on the shelf, you rose and stood to observe the clothes. Sadly, the bed was too large for you to stand directly across from Kuroo to dig through them, so you accepted your fate and sidled up beside him while he watched your every move.

        “...YN?” His tone was curious and careful as he narrowed his eyes at you.

        You kept your eyes on the clothes and urged your voice to keep steady. “What’s up?”

        “Why are you so flushed?” His hand runs down your cheek, gathering droplets of sweat that had formed from your stress earlier. “I don’t suppose you worked out or something while I was gone.”

        Though his proposition would have been a great excuse, you weren’t exactly the person to spend your spare time working out for the hell of it. Anybody knew that.

        “Pfft, no,” you waved a hand nonchalantly, “reading upside down is just really hard. You’re lucky you came in when you did or I might have just passed out altogether.”

        Kuroo studied you for a moment longer, leaning just a bit closer before humming. “All right. Then I’ll just say you’re welcome.”

        “Thank you.” Rummaging through the collection of pants and sweatshirts once more, you struggled to think of an excuse to get the hell out of here. 

        Kuroo’s hand moved to rest on the small of your back and suddenly all precaution flew out the window. 

        “K-Kuroo.”

        “Hmm?” The hand never retreats, and instead Kuroo turns toward you expectantly.

        “I… uh… don’t think I’m ready to sleep in the same bed with you yet.”

        Wonderful topic change, YN.

        “And why’s that?”

        “It’s not anything against you!” You scramble to find the words, turning toward him and wetting your lips. “I just… I think it’s too soon. For me, at least. I mean, I know it’s not too soon for you! In fact, I’m sure you think it’s overdue or something, but I’m just not that… comfortable yet…” you decide to trail off with your rambling and instead assess the hole you’ve just dug yourself in in silence. 

        Kuroo does the same, pressing his lips together and meeting your gaze head on. You knew he was searching for something, and you almost let out a sigh of relief when he finally nodded. “Don’t worry. I understand.” And then you notice his hand is still on your waist, but only because he’s placed the other one on your other hip. Then, ever so carefully, he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead. “One day, kitten.”

        Suddenly feeling dirty, you nod and pull away completely. “Of course.”

        Now how do I get out of here?

        Kuroo lets his hands fall back to his sides and his eyes drag down to the clothes still sitting in a clump on the bed.

        Bingo.

        “Oh, damn,” you hiss, picking through the clothes. “These ones are really uncomfortable. You didn’t get my favorites.” What you lack in acting skills you hope you make up for with swiftness. “Just wait here, I’ll go get them from my room.”

        Kuroo’s gaze shifts ten times more serious in an instant. Like a snake, his hand snaps out from his side and snags onto your wrist, effectively holding you in place just as you turn to leave. 

        Swallowing the fear in your chest, you spin back to Kuroo like he gestures. Slim fingers grab onto your chin and tilt your head to face his, forcing all your attention onto him.

        “You’re not going to do anything stupid, right kitten?”

        You kept a steady gaze and refrained from nervous shifting of any kind. You were too close to give it all up now. “Of course not. I just wanted more comfortable clothes.”

        With a pause, Kuroo narrows his eyes, glancing your form up and down before nodding. The bruising grip on your chin is released and you bite the inside of your cheek to fend off a whimper. 

        That son of a bitch was going to leave a mark.

        “Don’t keep me waiting long, YN.”

        Not bothering to stick around longer than necessary, you exited the room without another look at Kuroo and shut the door with a whoosh. The roaring blood pumping in your ears blocked out any other sound as you dashed down the halls, flying past tables of antique knick knacks and curtainless windows. 

        Soon, your mood shifted from a state of uncertainty to absolute pride. You did it. You got the key, and now you would get everyone out safely. Your one-man party would have to wait until you actually found out how to get out of here, though. 

        Unlike before, you weren’t exactly lost. The occasional painting was actually familiar and you thanked your past self for doing a little sight-seeing while being stranded in the halls. 

        When you spotted the very first painting you remembered appraising--a lone tree surrounded by thundering clouds--you almost yelped with glee. 

        I’m almost there, guys. Don’t you worry. 

        By now, there was a faint tint of sky blue just reaching the horizon outside the window. The moon and stars were soon to be long gone, and you and the boys would have the bright sun to guide you away from this hellhole. 

        At last, you found the corridor you’d entered twice before. Bare as always, it was a sharp contrast from the rest of the house in terms of its flooring. Here, there was very little money spared; unlike the polished marble surface of the rest of the halls, this one was a simple concrete, leading to scuffs of your tennis shoes rather than the previous squeaks. 

        Nonetheless, you sprinted to the end all the same, making it entirely through the house undetected. You counted yourself lucky that Kuroo actually believed you remembered where your old room was. At this point, you could barely tell left from right without performing the classic “L” trick with your hands. 

        Biting back a smile, you struggled to remind yourself that you weren’t exactly free and clear just yet; there was still the issue of finding the main exit--or any sort of exit--now. While Kuroo was miles away in his room all the way across the house, that didn’t mean the other werecats infesting the place weren’t on the lookout for you. 

        Especially once Kuroo realized you weren’t coming back. 

        You made quick work of the creaky stairs, skipping three at a time before taking one final leap and crashing through the wooden door. Sucking in a breath through your teeth, you hoped the slam of the door wasn’t as loud to the rest of the house as it was to you.

        Yet, such fears soon didn’t matter. Bokuto and Akaashi’s heads both lift at the sound of your entrance before both men jump to their feet.

        “Darling, you made it!”

        “YN, are you okay?”

        While their voices clashed, you waited patiently until you had their full attention before brandishing the key with a wide smile. 

        Bokuto cheers as quietly as he could manage while Akaashi’s brows rose. 

        “How did you find it?”

        “Uh,” Ah crap. “I’ll… tell you later.”

        Not wasting any more time, you scamper over and unlock each cell, tensing up when you see Bokuto prepare for a classic tackle hug. Except it never comes.

        Instead, while Akaashi fiddles with his shackles, Bokuto lets his arms fall to his side and he backs away from you, suddenly appearing forlorn. The memory of your last meeting down here comes back and hits you like a freight train.

        “Bo, if this is about what I said-”

        “It’s not!” He glances away with a crease in his brow, busying himself with snapping Akaashi’s cuffs in two like they were made of nothing. “It’s just…”

        “What?”

        Neither man dares to meet your gaze, but Akaashi’s reason seems more for being on the lookout while Bokuto’s is out of shame. 

        “You didn’t see the fear in your eyes when I bit you.”

        “Bo…”

        “No, YN, you looked horrified. It was like you said. I’m a mon-”

        Slamming a hand over his mouth, you throw a dirty glare his way. “Don’t ever call yourself that. You’re not a monster, Bokuto. Would a monster bake-er… try to bake my favorite breakfast every day? Would he want to watch magic shows with me or hug me when it’s cold outside?”

        He mumbles behind your hand with downcast eyes and you shake your head. “No, Bokuto. You’re wrong. You’re not a monster, or anything of the sort, to me. I don’t care what you say.”

        With that, you release his mouth and yank him into a hug, blindly reaching for Akaashi to do the same. When you make contact with the wizard’s T-shirt, you pull him into your arms as well, sighing in relief at the feeling it gives. 

        This was right. This was warm and safe and so, so right. Fuzzy little feelings bumbled around in your stomach as you sank deeper into their arms, dropping your chin on both men’s shoulders. There was no guilt or betrayal that came with this hug because these men, no matter how little you knew them, felt like home. 

        For the past few weeks, you’d felt so lost and alone, and feeling them around you now was heartwarming. The world seemed to stop turning and whatever stressful situation you had been focused on before seemed to ebb away in their hold. This was what pure security, pure devotion, and pure love felt like. Two pairs of arms wrapped around your waist, ready to help you face anything from this point on. You weren’t stuck alone anymore. You weren’t unhappy anymore. You were just lost in the embrace of an attachment that had formed over centuries, and would continue in just that fashion. 

        “I’m glad you guys are okay.” The words, though sounding simple, had been sitting on the tip of your tongue for days now. And you meant every one of them. “It sucked being away from you all that time.”

        A soft smile formed on Akaashi’s face as he pulled away just an inch to see your face. Carefully, he unwound an arm from your waist and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “And we feel the same, my love.”

        Bokuto’s arms squeeze you tighter just for a moment before releasing altogether, allowing his golden gaze to reach yours. A grin larger than life itself almost blinded you, fangs twinkling in the light of the sunrise. “We missed you so much, darling. Being away from you is torture.”

        Involuntarily, your lower lip began to tremble as you glanced at both of them, hating how your heart skipped a beat at each sight. Maybe it was fast, and it certainly wasn’t expected, but you did love them. And there was so much more time for you to get to know them better, but now…

        “Oh shit, we have to get out of here!” Shaking yourself out of your daze, you pulled away completely, shivering at the cold that nipped your skin in seconds. 

        Both men snapped themselves out of the haze as well, one snagging your wrist while the other led the way up the stairs. Soon enough, each man had a hold on either of your biceps, both protecting your sides and leading you through the halls. 

        Initially, you wanted to announce that you might have a better idea of how to navigate Kuroo’s mansion, but you soon swallowed your words when you noticed Akaashi’s calculating gaze as he directed all three of you around. “This way,” he mumbled, jogging at a pace just slow enough that you weren’t completely left in the dust. 

        The sun was reaching higher in the sky, you noticed, just half of it reaching over the horizon and lighting the sky a dusty orange. The maze of halls and stairs was much more manageable now that you could actually see them with natural lighting. 

        At last, the three of you reached a foyer. One glass staircase led directly down to the middle of a large entryway, and just a few yards from where the last step met marble stood a pair of wooden double doors. The slaps of your footsteps sounded like thunder compared to the elegant pads of both Bokuto and Akaashi’s feet, but being so close meant no time for precaution.

        “Oh YN, surely you didn’t think I was that gullible.”

        So close, and yet so far. Just as your hand had touched the curved door handles, Kuroo’s voice stopped you in your tracks and chilled you to the bone. 

        Caught, trapped, cornered--whatever you wanted to call it. To put it simply, you were screwed. Spinning on your heels, you took in the sheer number of werecats. With no time to count, you estimated there were about ten transformed cats in all, each ready to pounce. Kuroo stood in his human form with folded arms, shaking his head in disappointment. 

        Oh yeah. We’re fucked.

        Bones crackle just to your left and where a silent Bokuto used to be, a hissing creature now stands at the ready. Still human-shaped, each muscle in the vampire’s body now appears doubled in size as viscous claws extend from each finger. Elongated fangs sharper than needles pierce through his gums and a glowing red takes over the deep auburn of his eyes. 

        On your right, Akaashi’s hands, now completely free of cuffs, radiate a maroon smoke, both pointed toward the crouching enemies. A line forms between his brow as spells wait to be cast on his lips. 

        While the odds weren’t looking good before, both transformations your boys had undergone make you feel just a little bit better about the results of this battle. 

        Akaashi reaches out a smoldering hand to push you behind them, closer to the door. “You’ll be okay, my love.” He glances back at you with a small smile. “I never lie to you, remember?”

        You nod and step back farther, hoping that promise wouldn’t be his last. Only one thing was for sure, and that was that nobody was coming out of this unscathed.

        Across the room, Kuroo’s teeth bare at the action and the black ears that had formed on his head flatten. “Don’t touch her.”

        And with that, he pounces. 

        The room that had been so tense and quiet just seconds earlier explodes into pandemonium. Hisses, catlike and vampire-like both travel around the room as you quiver against the door, fighting back the urge to flee. 

        A foreign language slips off Akaashi’s tongue in a rage as red mist envelopes the room, paralyzing three cats right in their place. Two others pounce on him and just like that, they are slammed into the wall with a swift wave of his hand.

        Bokuto, on the other hand, is drowning underneath a pile of cats. Flexed claws tear into every inch of skin, but he gives just as much as he gets. One cat yowls and flees after receiving a dagger-like fingernail in the eye while another drops to the floor with a kick against its head. 

        Part of you wanted to help in some way while the other urged you to flee from the house completely. As an unofficial compromise, you stood glued to your spot, unsure if you could move even if you wanted to. 

        Cougar-sized cats go flying with another flash of red from Akaashi’s hands, one crashing right into the staircase and you cringe at the crack that echoes with it. Blood spatters to the floor and soaks into your pant legs as Bokuto sinks his teeth into the throat of a pure white cat, tearing away and spitting out a solid chunk of flesh. 

        All the sights and sounds are macabre, but like a car crash, you just couldn’t look away, completely enraptured in horror. Even the scent of blood flooded your nostrils at this point, forcing you to gag and turn away just when a cat is kicked into the wall directly by the doors. 

        It howls in pain, but the proximity between you and the slumped, bleeding form goes completely unnoticed until you feel a pinch in your side. 

        No. Not a pinch. The cat’s jaw has unhinged and enveloped your left hip completely, digging in hard enough to meet bone. Tears spring to your eyes and your jaw drops in a silent scream. Shock does nothing to fend off the pain as it forces you to your knees. 

        The cat scampers away just when you find the strength to release a small moan. Hands grab at your side, and you don’t realize they’re your own until you cry out at the sheer amount of red drenching your hands. 

        Blood is everywhere, soaking into your shoes and socks. Pooling onto the floor around you. And yet, when you reach to cover the wound, you can no longer feel the large punctures it had left. 

        “YN!” Twenty feet away, Akaashi throws a hand out toward you while another helps Bokuto to his feet. The door behind you flies open and you drag yourself to your feet, hanging onto the doorway for support as you step outside. 

        Fresh air never smelled more sweet, and when you reach down to feel your wound once more, you almost choke in disbelief to feel damp yet completely unruptured skin. 

        What the hell? WHAT THE HELL?

        Two hands grab your waist and throw you over a broad shoulder, leaving your head and arms to sag against what appears to be Bokuto’s lacerated backside. 

        “You’re gonna be okay, YN, we’re getting out of here!” Bokuto shouts over the wind rushing in your ears. The speed the forest floor passes by your eyes is inhuman as the vampire weaves in and out of trees, Akaashi keeping in perfect stride just to the side of you both. 

        An overflow of blood rushes straight down into your head, forcing you to lift your skull just a little to fend off the dizziness. In the distance, Kuroo’s mansion of black and red brick grows blurry, and yet does nothing to obscure the sight in the doorway. 

        Two glowing green eyes peering from within the darkness. 

        Neither Akaashi nor Bokuto has noticed, but the sight of it has caused you to tense up and go still in the latter’s hold. 

        “Don’t worry, my love,” Akaashi grunts out as both men begin to slow to a stop. Bokuto shifts his hold on you, now gripping the backs of your knees and your shoulders. A hand, Akaashi’s, glows a gentle pink before he brushes through the hair on the top of your head. “We’re going home.”

        A wave of exhaustion washes over you, forcing your eyes to droop closed. 

        “You can rest now. We’ll keep you safe.”

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so osamu x reader angst au where osamu is deeply in love with the reader and decided to dye his hair blonde so reader can cope with tsumu's death but didn't like this idea anymore, he wanted her to love him for who he truly is,,, 👉👈

Lapse in Judgement (Osamu x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: A car crash has taken Osamu’s brother away, the boy you liked so dearly. Osamu was dull to the pain, his crush on you blinding him from reality. But when he dyes his hair in hopes that he could make you feel the same, he realizes he may have gone too far. 

A/N: Sorry it took me a while. As per request, we got some major angst, but I gotta be honest, I don’t think Osamu’s evil enough to focus on a girl rather than his brother, so I focused more on his desperation to replace what he had lost than anything else. Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1412

        Maybe it was a mistake. A screw up of the royal kind. 

        But at most, it was a lapse in judgement. 

        High school boy found dead in a car accident. That’s what the newspapers said, but it didn’t account for the total grief of it all. 

        Boy, dead. Drunk driver, critical condition. The navy blue truck totalled the small SUV at eight o’ clock at night after running a red light. Witnesses called for help, and that was it. 

        Except it wasn’t. 

        The journalists didn’t talk about the empty bedroom across from Osamu’s. They didn’t talk about the abandoned desk in Class 4b, the bare seat at the lunch table, the still-full locker in the hallway. 

        Atsumu was gone, with only an indifferent news article to his name. 

        Practice was never quite the same. Each time Osamu went, he couldn’t help but stare at the floor where his brother once stood. Deep down, he knew he should have cried by now. Bawled tears at the funeral, or maybe let one slip when he saw the first layer of dust settle onto his brother’s dresser. 

        But the truth was that he hadn’t. Yeah, it hurt, but he couldn’t… feel it. Every sense in his body was numb as he got through each passing day like turning the pages of a book without reading them. Things were happening, he just didn’t care enough to listen. 

        Osamu guessed the one who was visibly taking it the hardest was you, who won by a landslide. 

        The night he died, you had texted the quieter twin with wide-eyed innocence, revealing that the next day at school, you were going to give Atsumu a letter telling him how you feel. 

        I can do it! Just watch me, Samu!

        The chance never came, and when Osamu informed you of what had happened, you had broken down in his arms. 

        And he felt sick for the first time. 

        Disgust at himself for actually being happy that he was the one to hold you now, it was horrifying. The bile that had risen up his throat lost out to the joy. 

        Him, Osamu, he was the one you talked to now, each day asking him if he was okay, hugging him and confiding in him with your deepest thoughts. 

        You and Atsumu had been close in a way Osamu had always been envious of. Teasing and flirting, all of it turned him into a green-eyed monster.

        So maybe that was what forced away his ache of loss. Around him, you were almost as happy, almost as teasing and playful, but you had lost that glint in your eyes. You didn’t have that with Osamu.

        He knew that was what had sent him over the edge. 

        Two weeks after his brother’s death, still not a tear spilt. Instead, he spent all his time thinking about you. Your smile, less forced than before. The shine in your hair had returned, and your cheeks finally began to flush again. 

        Osamu entered the school and made a beeline for the classroom, praying that you had attended school today so he could see you. So you could validate what he had done. 

        And there you were, slipping into the classroom with the same dark circles under your eyes. They were no longer only from long nights of doing schoolwork. 

        “YN.” 

        Your head snapped up and your eyes met his in a split second. Then your gaze rose to his hair. Your lips separated to let out a single, quick breath of air while your brow twitched. 

        “At- Osamu?” 

        He nodded, the newly-blond hair shifting to hang in front of his eyes.

        “Your… you changed your hair.” 

        “Yeah, I did.”

        And that was that.

                                ~~~

        Having you by his side, Osamu could ignore all the stares he received. He never cared for attention, especially not now. Throughout the halls of school, people’s brows rose to their hairlines as they watched you both walk around, hand in hand and smile together. 

        It never seemed weird, and Osamu had never felt happier. 

        He wasn’t… he wasn’t alone anymore. 

        The bedroom across from his never bothered him when you stayed over at night. He hadn’t even travelled into it since the last time. 

        “Do you want to come over tonight?” Osamu didn’t really say it as a question, mostly because you were guaranteed to say yes anyways. 

        “Again? I think someone likes having me around.” 

        He did. God, he loved that adoring look on your face whenever he said he wanted you. Those puppy dog eyes of yours that you never seemed to notice you were giving him made his heart thump in a frantic pattern. 

        Volleyball wasn’t really a concern anymore. The new setter pissed him off, so he didn’t bother attending practice. His jerseys hung in his closet, unworn for what might’ve been a month now. 

        It was maybe… two months? Three? Osamu wasn’t sure, but Atsumu had left a while ago. 

        So he never bothered with the sport, meaning you could come over right after school, or he could even walk with you there. 

        You both had a tradition now. Homework, then a movie or show, then a nap together. Then Osamu either walked you home or, if it was too late, let you sleep in his bed for the night. 

        He found that your warmth fended off the nightmares that leered in on him at all hours in a day. 

        Today was a day that you stayed the night. The moon was already falling from the sky by the time you two finished eating a dinner of box mac and cheese, and thus it was decided that you shouldn’t bother going home. 

        Osamu’s blond head rested on your chest, and one leg was intertwined with both of your own. His arm was strewn across your stomach, heavy enough to keep you in place for the night. 

        You had two hands in his hair, head propped up on a pillow so you could make out the shape of the tufts in the black room. It was three am, and Osamu’s breathing had finally slowed and leveled.

        “Atsumu,” you whispered, your own voice not even loud enough to hit your own ears. “Fuck, I miss you so much.” 

        Osamu shifted and your hands stilled, breath held in anticipation. Then he stopped and nuzzled his face back into your chest. 

        After waiting a couple more minutes just in case, you let out a sigh and combed through the long tufts again. “I’ll never stop loving you, Atsumu. I wish I could’ve told you that three months ago.” 

        Your eyelids grew heavy with sleep and you let out a yawn. 

        “I love you, Atsumu.” 

        And then you slipped into unconsciousness. 

        Atsumu was gone forever. 

        His bedroom was still empty, and a few spiders had probably claimed the corners of the room by now. Dust must have caked over every single picture and piece of furniture the boy had ever owned. 

        His bed was probably unmade, and would never be made again. 

        He was dead, and nobody could fill the holes his absence had left. 

        You couldn’t fix Osamu’s loneliness, no matter how much you latched onto him. 

        Osamu couldn’t replace his brother for you. He wasn’t really the boy you would love, no matter how hard he tried to be. Your words had confirmed that.

        Dying his hair was a lapse of judgement. A last ditch effort for both of you to keep his memory alive. 

        But that effort was futile. 

        And so, for the first time since he had lost his setter in volleyball, his friend in school, his rival in love, and his twin for life, Osamu let reality sink in. 

        Against your chest, in the hold of the woman he loved unrequitedly, Osamu cried.

Pumpkin Eater (Kuroo x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Last night, your friend sent you pictures of Kuroo with some girl at a random club. In short, not only was he a liar, but he was also a cheater, and you couldn’t stand to be with him after this.

A/N: Okay, so just to be clear: this was originally going to be a Taehyung (BTS) fanfic but I didn’t wanna mess with my masterlist bc I’m lazy. *This means Kuroo is aged up and a little ooc.*  I also didn’t really wanna ruin my image of him by writing a cheating fic, but I just wanted to write some angst tonight. I hope you guys like it!

Word count: 1679

        You saw them. Pictures of him and another girl at some club. Last night, he said he was hanging out with his teammates, and you had only nodded your head, so innocent at the time. If only you knew, then maybe the pain would hurt less. Maybe.

       The door opens in your peripheral vision while you sit on the couch, back straight and eyes downcast. 

       “How was practice?” Kuroo hadn’t noticed you sitting in the dark room. He flinches at the sudden question. 

       “It was good.” With a small glance in your direction, he halts on his path to the kitchen in search of dinner. “Are you okay, kitten?” 

       “I’m fine.” It’s a lie, and you both know it, but somewhere deep down you wanted one last moment of serenity with him. Just one, before the storm hit, before the skyscraper crumbled, before your relationship ended.

       “Come on, tell me the truth.” He plops down on the couch beside you and wraps a reassuring arm around your shoulders. A bittersweet emotion floods through your system at the action. It relaxes you, but on how many other women did it have the same effect? 

       Your chest is tight and thanks to his proximity, you don’t want to breathe. What if he notices how every intake of air trembles and shivers with what you hope is pure anger and frustration at him, but is actually sorrow and agony? What if he forces you to end this before you have enough time to revel in his warmth, in the love you still have for him? Your mind aches at the flurry of thoughts running rampant. 

       “Okay,” you admit, “I’m not fine.” When his head drops on your shoulder in a comforting manner, you repress the urge to hurl. Please don’t touch me, but please don’t stop touching me. You never wanted to lose him, but it seems he was never yours to lose in the first place. 

       The dim living room is silent aside from the television chattering in the corner. Replayed, forced laugh tracks only deepen your misery, making a joke of your pain. The space smells like the rain Kuroo had tracked inside, the drops having soaked into his hanging jacket by the door and into the pants that rub against your bare legs. 

       “You can tell me anything, kitten. You know that.” Rage bubbles deep in your chest at his words and you yank away from his grip, propelling yourself to the other half of the sofa and throwing him a glare.

       “Can you?” Deep in your mind, you wonder if he has the decency to admit what he did, but you know him better than that. Not once has he ever even admitted to sneaking your last cookie, even as you watched him choke on it. Kuroo’s eyes widen at your words and he nervously shifts to face you.

       “What are you talking about?” he gulps, looking everywhere but you. He bends one leg under the other and anxiously taps his fingers against it, a nervous habit you’d noticed when you first began a relationship with him. On your second date, it was adorable. When he tried to avoid admitting he cheated, it was aggravating. 

       “I think you know what.” Your gaze burns into the side of his skull with just enough pressure that he cracks. 

       “I swear it was an accident!” The confession is weak and rushed, but it doesn’t hesitate to trample all over your heart. Tears sting your eyes and paint your cheeks while you bite your lip to distract from any nonphysical pain. It doesn’t work. No matter how hard you scrunch up your face and clench your teeth, it just doesn’t work. Fury and resentment for his betrayal roll off you in waves. 

       “Oh, so your dick just accidentally slipped right into her?” you laugh bitterly. “What, did you fall on a banana peel?” Kuroo can’t stand your shaky words and he looks to the side with flared nostrils. A hand is now twirling around the strings of his sweatshirt, a movement you’ve been subconsciously mocking this whole time on your own clothes. The clothes you borrowed from him. 

       “You weren’t supposed to find out.”

       “Oh, well that makes this whole situation so much better,” you scoff. “I’m so glad I wasn’t supposed to find out!” Your voice raises to a wobbling yell and he jumps. With a snarl, you stand up from the couch and try to stomp away. His rough hand covers your own and stops you.

       “YN, please! Let’s talk about this!” 

       “No!” you shout in his face, yanking away from his grip and returning to your path. 

       Your bedroom is deathly quiet and cold compared to the unbearable heat in the living room. Thoughts run wild through your head while you load a bag with everything you own. Clothing, cords, anything you use in the shower, it all weighs down the backpack. At last, you’re only missing one thing. But as you reach for your phone on the nightstand, a picture breaks your intense focus. 

       It’s you and him on your five-month anniversary. The amusement park ride you had just gotten off is far behind you two in the background. Kuroo’s frozen in pure joy, beaming at your green face while you stare back at him with adoring eyes. 

       His arms are around your waist, yours are around his neck, and distantly you remember the other pictures from that moment. The one where he had pressed a kiss to your nose, and the one where you had yacked on his shoes directly after. The corner of your lips quirks up at the memory just as a drop splatters onto the frame, soon followed by more and more until it looks like raindrops racing on a window.

       Your sniveling is silent as you hug the photo to your chest, sitting down on the bed. Every breath is trembling and every unheard sob racks through your body. It hurts so much. When the door creaks open, you wipe your cheeks swiftly with one sleeve of Kuroo’s sweatshirt. 

       “YN,” he murmurs, peering in at you. His face is puffy and flushed, much like how you imagine your own. 

       You don’t respond, so he enters slowly, gently making his way over to you. Suddenly, he drops to his knees in front of you and tangles his arms around your waist. You tense at the feeling of his face shoved forcibly against your stomach as he leans over your thighs, crying into you.

       “Please don’t leave me,” he whimpers in a disheveled heap against your lap. “Please don’t do this.” The onslaught of tears causes his body to shiver uncontrollably, shaking yours in return. Eventually, his volume grows. Every regretful moan and howl begins to break you down bit by bit, echoing throughout the house until you finally drop your hands into his hair.  While your own eyes grow wet once more, you tenderly comb through the wild, black tufts.

       “Tetsurou.” He squeezes you tighter and you choke out a sob. “Tetsurou, come on.” You tug up against his scalp but he only shakes his head.

       “Please don’t do this, YN.” It’s a broken whisper, and you feel it more than you hear it. Each slowing breath exhales into your abdomen hotly while he slips away reluctantly. On his knees, he stares up at you pleadingly. His warm, hazel eyes pierce right through your heart while his large hands remain on your thighs, running up and down at a deliberate pace.

       “Please,” he mumbles once again, pressing a kiss to your bare kneecap before nuzzling his forehead against it, fingers trailing down to your calves.  The word slips out of his mouth repeatedly, each one hoarser than the last. 

       Through all of this, your heart races and stutters unsteadily while your head aches from the day you’ve had. You return to brushing his hair to calm him, but your eyes lazily wander to the bag beside you. It’s completely packed. You have a friend in the city you can live with. Your phone is sitting directly on top of the pack, just begging you to call her. You know what you have to do. 

       “I have to.” Kuroo freezes and your chest pounds while you reach for your bag. 

       “Please,” he whispers once more, not moving a muscle from his seat on the floor. You slip out of his grasp and grab your things, exiting the room with a broken heart. Hurried footsteps race after you just as you open the door to the outside.

       “I’ll do anything!” he cries out suddenly, hand slamming it shut. “Just… don’t leave me.” His bottom lip quivers while he waits, observing your every move. Hesitantly, you reach up and cup his face, running your thumbs along his damp cheeks. Instinctively, he grabs onto your hips and closes his eyes blissfully.  

       “I know you will,” you croak out, shaking your head with a bitter smile. “And I’m sorry, but that’s not enough.” You turn and peel away from his grip, slipping out of the house and hiking your bag up on your shoulder. The door gradually closes behind you with a rush of air and you open your phone to contact your friend. 

       It almost slips out of your hands when a loud crash sounds from within your home. A heartbroken sob follows and you try to ignore it while walking away.

Part 2 (Second Chance) 

Part 2 (Never Again)

MY FRIENDS AND I WERE DISCUSSING AND THEY WERE LIKE "You know you'd be the perfect darling" and I was like "Excuse me?" And the reason was "Well... If they treated you right you wouldn't care about anything else... As long as your Yandere wouldn't hurt you or the people you actually care about I doubt that you'd actually try to escape" and I was like 👁️👄👁️ but I couldn't even say no cause they were right 😂 As long as I'm "Okay" I wouldn't even care that I'm kidnapped by a psycho 🤷🏻‍♀️

Agakdhjsjdks dudeeeee🤦‍♀️

Bruh I just imagine like you sitting on a couch eating Cheetos while your yandere is downstairs fucking murdering someone.

Guy dying: SOMEONE HELP ME

this anon: y’all hear sumn

Heyy are you still taking requests?

Yepp, requests are still open!

Bet (Tsukishima x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: You ended up wearing a green bean costume to school the next day. Why? Ugh, don’t ask. 

A/N: Looking up April Fools pranks for this fic was just about the best research I’ve done for a story in a while. Hope you like it! (Again, thank you guys so much for the likes and follows, they make me so happy I almost screech and scare the shit out of my parents!)

Word count: 1245

        “Kei, there’s no way your teammates are that stupid.” 

       “Oh yeah? You wanna bet?” You did, and you really thought you would win, too. Oh, how wrong you were. 

       It was April Fools, and Tsukishima came up with a simple prank to test just how oblivious the Karasuno volleyball team could be. Before practice began, you were to bring in a box of original glazed-donuts to the second gym. Nothing too special, it’s just that on the top of the box you wrote “Happy April First!” in bright green letters. The fear and anxiety in the team captain’s eyes was instantaneous. 

       “Hey guys, I brought in donuts for you all!” you announced cheerfully, setting down the closed box on one of their metal benches. Even Kiyoko, who had been seated there, stood quickly and watched the donuts with suspicion. Chuckling behind your hand, you joined a smug Tsukishima near the entrance and waited for the show to begin. At first, the whole team had been ecstatic about the gift and thanked you loudly, but smiles dropped off each and everyone’s faces one-by-one the closer they stepped to it, evidently reading the note on top. 

       Giving your boyfriend a pointed look, you gestured to his teammates and whispered, “See, I told you they wouldn’t-” you were cut off by the sound of the box opening, and whipped your head over in surprise to see the culprits. It was Hinata and Kageyama, glancing inside in wonder at the deliciously glazed pastries. 

       You gawked at the sight, but Tsukishima’s smirk only grew while he folded his arms and leaned against the wall comfortably at the scene. “Guys, wait!” Daichi warned, his arm reaching out in protest, but he was too late. The rest of the team watched in horror as the ginger and the blueberry inhaled the donuts without so much as pausing at their captain’s exclamation, licking their fingers and shouting a “Thank you!” at you before returning to the court. Visibly shaken at the spectacle that had just occurred, Kiyoko reclaimed her place on the bench numbly as the rest of the team returned to practice with bewildered expressions. They were all lying in wait for side-effects that would never appear from your innocent box of treats.  

       You were appalled. “No hesitation. They didn’t even notice. I can’t tell if they’re fearless or just stupid,” you mumbled. 

       Tsukishima patted your jaw closed and gave a shit-eating grin. “The latter. Definitely the latter.” 

       Refusing to take the loss, you looked up at him and bargained, “Double or nothing?”

                               ~~~

       Your boyfriend’s second prank was… admittedly crueler. You assumed he was still pissed at Nishinoya and Tanaka for hitting on you at the first game you had ever attended of his, but you didn’t mention your theory. Plus, this trick would be enough revenge on its own. It was the next day, and you and Tsukishima had spent an hour last night painting two onions and caramelizing them like apples, only to carry them into school and drop them off at the desks of the two flirty dimwits under the guise that they were from the gorgeous Kiyoko herself. At first, you thought the plan failed. The school alarm hadn’t sounded in warning that the pair had spontaneously combusted at the gifts, and you didn’t hear a loud commotion in the halls from them running around like excited, headless chickens. 

       “Be patient,” the blondy murmured in the desk next to you. “It’ll happen at practice. I know it.” Huffing out a breath, you dropped your chin into your hands and zoned back in on the teacher’s droning. History was mind-numbingly boring; you just wanted to win the bet right now!

                               ~~~

       Walking hand-in-hand to volleyball practice directly after school, yours and Tsukishima’s gentle teasing was interrupted by wobbly shouts. “Kiyoko, you’re so amazing!” 

       You both recognized the voices and exchanged looks before running up to the open doors of the gym. Wow, what an embarrassing scene. Nishinoya and Tanaka were writhing around on the ground with overjoyed expressions and happy tears, hugging the disguised caramel onions to their chests in front of a highly confused team manager. 

       “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but get up off the ground.” The pair instantly hopped up at her monotonous command and whined after her as she walked away. Both schooled their expressions into utter seriousness and faced each other before intertwining their arms. 

       “We eat these caramel apples at the same time, in honor of our goddess Kiyoko.” Nishinoya’s face was humorless and dark as he held the unwrapped onion up to his own face. You cringed at the thought while your boyfriend began to snicker under his breath.

       “Agreed, brochacho.” Tanaka nodded along, and together, they both took large bites of their unsavory treats, freezing up at the first taste. 

       Tsukishima grabbed onto you for stability while he wholeheartedly cracked up next to your ear. His howls echoed throughout the gym while you covered your mouth at the sight. In just two more bites, they had swallowed the onions whole with shadows on their faces. You were going to throw up, you just knew it. At last, the pair separated slowly and stared down at their empty sticks. They didn’t seem appalled or disgusted at all. Rather, they looked… stupefied. 

        “Kiyoko, those were delicious!” You flinched at the outburst as the pair suddenly skipped their way over to the unsuspecting third year and began to excitedly circle around her like a ritual. While she complained at their actions, your boyfriend was now roaring with laughter, his whole body shaking with each chuckle as he shoved his face into your shoulder to calm himself. You were still mystified by the stomach-churning show you had just watched. And finally, just when Tsukishima’s cackles began to slow, you moaned at your defeat. 

       “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you whined in disbelief, “Did they seriously just eat whole onions? What the hell is wrong with those guys?!” 

       “I ask myself that question every day,” Tsukishima disclosed to you, pulling away to wipe off his glasses with a rag found in his pocket. Grumbling under your breath, you sigh before turning to him and placing your hands on your hips. 

       “All right, all right. Fine, you win. What do you want me to do?”

       Returning his glasses to his face, his eyes flashed behind the lenses while he smirked deviously. “I thought you’d never ask.”

                               ~~~

       I wanna die, you thought to yourself as your face bloomed with telltale embarrassment. Keeping your head ducked, not that that would help hide you, you walk through the gates of Karasuno and make your way into school, small giggles trailing after you. Finally, you spot your boyfriend at the same time he easily notices you. Utterly miserable, you lazily drag your feet over to him, seething from inside your costume but staying silent nonetheless. It’s not like you could plan his murder out loud, after all.

       Snickering victoriously, Tsukishima cheekily wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “Who’s the string bean now?” 

Eeee I was so excited to see you pop up on my dash again!!! Welcome back, I hope you’ve been well!

Aaaaaaa it's nice to be back ur so sweet for this message tyyyyy

i hope ur well too anon, even tho this message is like 2 yrs old probably, i hope ur doing great!

A Hairy Situation (Bokuto x Reader/Soulmate AU)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Back home in America, YN was free to dye her hair whatever color she pleased. But now that she’s transferred to Japan as a foreign exchange student, she realizes that she’s much closer to her soulmate than she used to be... hence why her hair looks like an explosion of black and gray. What an asshole.

Author’s note: Haikyuu!! Bokuto x reader soulmate au. This one was also written at 3 am...and then deleted, so now I’m pissed. This is better than my first fanfic tho... I think, so enjoy!

Word count: 3775

        When the new girl stepped into Karasuno, all eyes were on her. One, because she was new, duh. Two, because she was an American transfer student nobody expected to arrive. Three, because her hair looked like an explosion in an old-school, black-and-white film. As soon as people noticed this unavoidable characteristic, they pitied her.

“Her soulmate is such an asshole,” the students whispered amongst themselves. After all, who would want owl-like hair on the top of their head, aside from a sadistic jerk.

       Here is a little known biology fact about soulmates in this world: females hold the recessive gene for hair. If two female soulmates got together, their hair colors would blend. If two males got together, their hair would be an equally-expressed mixture. Finally, when a female and a male soulmate are in close enough proximity to each other, as like all soul matches, the female’s initial hair color retreats to make room for the male’s hair color. That’s just simple human-soulmate genetics, existing in the world since the dawn of time. 

       Everyone knew the girl must not have been the cause for her hair color for one simple reason: she looked absolutely miserable. Her hands were white-knuckled around the straps of her school bag, and her shoes squeaked as she pathetically dragged her feet along the floor. She decided to keep her head down, and because of this, no one had noticed how she was fuming. With clenched teeth and burning, E/C eyes, the girl resisted the urge to throw a string of curses every glimpse she caught of her hair. Wait no, not of her hair, of her soulmate’s hair.

Unfurling the crumpled schedule in her hand, YN finally looked up to search for her classroom, resisting a sneer when her fellow pupils at last saw how pissed she truly was. Rushing into her homeroom, she met with the teacher, took her seat, and buried her striking head into her folded arms, hoping and praying to the heavens for the power of invisibility.

                            ***

       It was a known fact that when a soulmate pair was heterosexual, the female, try all she might, would never control the hair color of her other half. No dyes, no matter how strong, could erase the evidence of true-love proximity. Way early on, scientists had done the math and discovered that soulmate hair color would show when the two individuals were, at most, 250 miles away from each other.

With this idea, YN figured that her destined male companion must be in Japan, but she had no idea where. Back in the United States, she was free to dye her hair any color of her choosing, but had stuck with H/C on her flight to the Miyagi Prefecture. However, after getting off the plane and taking a much needed bathroom break, she had almost cried in despair when she saw her peppered strands. Now, she figured she could tell the future, as in that bathroom she had guessed the exact nickname the current bullies in Karasuno had just called her: Salt and Pepper. 

       At first, she had despised it, but after hearing it twenty times in a row during her lunch break, it began to grow on her. Much like her hair color. She realized that it wasn’t half-bad, and that the nicknames would simply be the worst thing to come from it. YN had passed all the stages of grief and had finally moved on to acceptance, as she realized it was out of her control. She would, however, explode on her soulmate once she finally met him. The amount of an ass-kicking he would receive would lead to him begging her to stop so he could go buy hair dye immediately.

YN was practically drooling at the idea of saving her reputation and getting to kick someone’s ass all in the same day, but she was shaken out of this dream by a jumpy ginger and his stoic, blue-eyed companion. She had been walking down the halls, planning to return to her class after lunch hour, only to be halted by their indiscreet whisper-conversation as they passed. 

       “Kageyama, doesn’t her hair remind you of Bokuto? That amazing ace from Fukurodani?” 

       The short redhead poked his companion in the side, only to receive a smack to the back of the head as the other calmly stated, “I guess so. We are pretty close to Tokyo now that I think about it.” 

       YN whirled around on her heels and caught up with the pair while exclaiming, “Hey, you guys know my soulmate? Where is he?”

       The taller one, Kageyama she assumed, stayed impassive even as a small blush grew on his face before he stated, “We don’t know for sure, but it could be this guy we know from Fukurodani Academy.”

       The shorter one added, “We’ve played him in volleyball, and he’s amazing! Their team is actually travelling down here tomorrow for a practice game! You should come.”

       “Oh, I definitely will. Sounds fun.” YN’s eyes flared at the idea of meeting her soulmate, if only to tell him off, and the heat that exuded from her stare caused the two boys to shy away slightly. Hinata, she learned, told her the time and place of their volleyball match tomorrow, to which she thanked him with mischievous eyes before strutting away, mentally preparing for the inevitable beat-down the next day.  

                               ***

       Volleyball, YN decided, is actually pretty entertaining to watch, but their practice is boring as hell. It looks so much more fun to play, YN thought to herself, biting her lip in excitement. Her nerves were aflame with anticipation, and she would finally get to meet her soulmate. The rousing idea of possibly encountering him for the first time almost distracted her of her main goal. Almost.

However, this fact didn’t matter. YN would never forget the first night of her arrival in Japan, standing in the bathroom of her host family and glaring at herself in the mirror. Well, not herself, but her hair. Every clump of black interspersed with light gray had increased her resentment of him. She didn’t want to hate him. This was revealed when she suddenly began tearing up while looking at herself. 

      YN wanted to believe he was just a fun guy who joked around and enjoyed others’ attention, but she knew differently. The world was cruel, and the odds were stacked against her, and from that night on, the young girl began to buy into the idea that others were selling her.

“My soulmate is such an asshole,” she had whispered to herself in the mirror before crumpling to a miserable ball on the floor.

YN was stuck in a foreign country with no friends and no family, surrounded only by strangers she rarely understood without thinking very hard, who accused her soulmate of being cruel and pitied her because of that supposed fact. Now, as she watched Karasuno’s boy’s volleyball team practice for today’s game, she couldn’t help her mind wandering back to what Hinata had told her.

       “He’s amazing! And super nice too! He taught me this move where my arm prepares to go ‘Bam!’ but then it slows down to make the ball go ‘Fwoosh!’ I can’t wait for you to see…” The ginger’s voice faded away as YN recalled the memory of his rambling and complementing of her soulmate. 

       Maybe he won’t be so bad, YN thought to herself, but was startled out of her daze when the doors of Karasuno’s first gym burst open with a loud “Hey! Hey! Hey!”

A smile grew on her face at the sound of the amusing voice, and YN was surprised by her involuntary actions, but decided to let her grin stay when she saw who spoke. It was her soulmate, salt-and-peppered hair and all.

                               ***

       “Been a long time, Tsukki boy!” Bokuto shouted as he clapped his blond friend on the back. 

       Tsukishima scrambled to catch his glasses as they popped off his face, recovering them and haughtily pushing them back up his nose with a strong finger while declaring, “It’s only been like two weeks, and you need to quiet down, you’re giving me a headache already. I won’t make it through the game if you keep this up.” Halfway into Tsukishima’s rant, the blond had been instantly forgotten when Hinata raced over to Bokuto, jumping up and down in front of the third year while excitedly chatting with him. 

       “Hey, Bokuto, I’ve been working on the move you taught me! It works great, I can’t wait to kick your ass with it!” the carrot-top enthusiastically bragged.

       The owl-haired ace chuckled boisterously in return, ruffling the ginger’s hair while playfully responding, “Alright little man, show me what you got.”

Rolling his eyes, Akaashi proceeded to drag Bokuto away from Karasuno’s first years, warning the older that he wouldn’t get any sets if he didn’t start practicing. The ace took the slight to heart and scrambled over to Fukurodani’s side of the net, grumbling under his breath about how mean his setter was. 

       As the game commenced, Fukurodani’s captain could not resist his eyes straying to the stands, feeling as though something was calling to him from there, begging him to take just one glance.

Directly above Karasuno’s “Fly” banner stood a girl. Not just any girl, but a girl with black and white hair. When Bokuto spotted her, his smile grew larger than the universe itself, and he waved at her frantically after she made eye contact. The girl’s face grew a few shades shy of a tomato, and she softly smiled, giving him a small wave back.

Returning his attention to the game, Bokuto knew not only would he not lose, but he would also scrub the floor with these guys, no matter how friendly he had been before. After all, his soulmate was watching, and he would do everything he could to keep her gorgeous gaze on himself. 

                               ***

       “What the hell was that idiot thinking, waving at me in the middle of the game. He’s gonna get one right to the face, I just know it. What a cocky bastard,” YN rambled to herself, covering her warm cheeks with her cold hands. No matter what she did though, the burn stayed, and the smile that was hurting her cheeks was probably definitely part of the problem.

Her eyes never strayed from his form for a second during the first set, and the only word she could think of to define her soulmate was hella “Thick.” He was a good thick, hell, a great thick. The best thick in the whole, goddamned, world- okay what. What is wrong with me, she thought to herself, shaking her head as if to erase her previous musings. YN was taken out of her mental cleansing when she heard a whistle blow. The telltale end of the game’s first set. Immediately, the girl’s first instinct was to look for him, Bokuto, but she instead, for whatever reason, decided to duck out of the stands and go to the bathroom. 

       “What is wrong with me?” YN repeated to herself as she observed her red cheeks in the mirror. After all that time, the pink hues hadn’t slightened even the tiniest bit, but YN was more confused as to why she was okay with that fact. That she almost wanted her soulmate to see how shy he made her feel, how nervous she was around him.

Maybe it was because he seemed so nice, and to make up for how she had assumed he would be rude, she allowed him to see her blushing like a sprinter after a marathon. Maybe it was that, just maybe yes. Either way, YN knew she would have to leave the bathroom sometime, and she didn’t want to miss the rest of the game. 

                               ***

       Fukurodani had won the first set; not by a landslide as Bokuto had hoped, but only by two points, finally earned after a long rally. But a victory was a victory, no matter how small, and when Bokuto stepped off the court with an over-eager fist pump and multiple high fives from his teammates, his eyes first traveled to the stands.

After scrutinizing every inch of the gym’s upper level, he still couldn’t find her. Maybe he had scared her off? Was the waving too much? No way, with the way she blushed but smiled and waved back anyways, Bokuto knew she was ready to stay in for the long run.

Sadly, no matter how much or how long the ace assured himself of his soulmate’s feelings, he felt doubt creep in the longer she was absent from the stands. What if she thinks she can run onto the court and greet me after hearing those whistles? That would be so cute, but she would probably be reprimanded for it though. But it would be worth it, right? God, I hope she does that…. The owl-haired captain continued to ramble to himself mentally as the rest of his team kept their heads in the game, discussing how to defeat Karasuno in the next set. 

       “Washio, I know their number ten is fast, so I need you to keep following him whenever you see him make a move. The others up front will… Bokuto? Are you listening?” Akaashi trailed off while watching his captain glare at the stands and mutter under his breath.

       Hesitantly, the setter placed his hand on the third year’s shoulder, only to have Bokuto quickly swivel back around and irritably snap, “I’m fine, let’s just keep playing.” Shaking off Akaashi’s grip, the ace marched back onto the court, ready to land twenty-five service aces in a row, just to show his soulmate what she was totally missing! Behind Bokuto, the rest of his teammates sighed and rolled their eyes.

       Sarukui watched Bokuto before saying, “Okay, I know it’s happened before, but isn’t it, like, a little too early for this? I don’t think it’s ever happened this quick.”

       Akaashi shakes his head and flatly responds, “I don’t know, he seemed a little distracted even during the first set. And remember when he waved to that girl in the crowd? I don’t see her here anymore, so that might be part of it. Either way, let’s just play without him and hope he’s able to get back into his groove even if she doesn’t return.”

The rest of the team nods in agreement and jogs back toward the court, avoiding the tempermatic captain preparing to serve. Akaashi stays back and glances at his coaches, only to receive a questioning look as they gesture to Bokuto. The setter only responds with a shrug of his shoulders before hustling back onto the court. All we can do now is hope for the best, Akaashi thinks.

                               ***

       When YN returns to her place behind the banner with cooler cheeks, her eyes are immediately drawn to her soulmate. He seems to be getting ready to serve, but he won’t even look up at her. YN knows he must feel bad after she disappeared, and wonders how to make up for her actions without embarrassing herself, knowing she would need a little reassurance too if she was in his position.

The owl-haired ace is fuming on the court, and suddenly YN wonders how volatile her soulmate truly is. As Bokuto throws up the ball, preparing for a jump serve, YN flinches at how loud the sound of impact is, and watches as the ball flies over the net, crashing hard into the wall directly behind Karasuno. The two defenders in the home team’s back row do not even get a chance to watch the ball as it flies past them with horrendous speed, and their eyes go wide in...surprise? Or fear? Maybe both.

After the scene, Bokuto falls to his knees dramatically and releases a loud groan, shaking his head in his hands. “Damn it, I’m so stupid! What have I done?!”

       YN glances nervously at the slight dent in the wood paneling of the wall and wonders if he’ll have to pay for damage. “Crap,” she whispers to herself, knowing what she has to do.

                               ***

       Akaashi has been there for many of Bokuto’s mood swings, and he’s seen it all.

Well, apparently not until now. From his own red handprints left on his cheeks to stomping around like a five-year-old, Akaashi knows about Bokuto’s temper like bees know about honey. It’s obvious, he’s been around it a lot, and he knows what to expect… or, at least he used to know.

Now, it’s like undiscovered territory, and Akaashi is wary of stepping on any landmine that might just cause his friend to explode.

With an outstretched hand, Akaashi wonders whether he should approach Bokuto or not, but before he can decide, the doors to the gym burst open.

Kageyama and Hinata observe silently as YN rushes past them, ducking under the volleyball net and beelining it towards Bokuto, her black and white hair flowing in the air from her speed. Nobody makes a noise to protest or warn her as she approaches him, slowing down in close enough proximity for him to feel her presence. Ever so dejectedly, the ace of Fukurodani raises his head to look at her, before blasting up to his feet and embracing her in a tight hug. 

       “I’m so sorry for scaring you away. Please don’t reject me, I don’t think I could handle it.” Bokuto’s voice wavers slightly as he clings to her even harder, his head tucked into her shoulder. YN wonders if he’ll start crying, but shakes off the thought and slowly twists out of his grip. At first, he hugs her even tighter, then he slowly, begrudgingly listens and peels away from her body. Bokuto tries to step away dejectedly, only for YN to grasp his hand and lead him out of the gym, ignoring the many pairs of eyes watching.

       Before shutting the door, YN looks at both teams and politely smiles. “Continue.” 

       Watching the pair of soulmates disappear behind the exit, Akaashi closes his dropped jaw and shares an incredulous look with the people around him, shaking his head before shrugging his shoulders once more.

“May as well.”

                               ***

       Bokuto’s eyes glow as YN watches the door close before embracing him in a warm bear hug.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I screwed up your game, and I distracted you and I just left before saying anything. But to be honest, I was just, I don’t know, kind of scared.” Her voice is muffled in his shoulder, and she keeps hugging him tighter and tighter until he feels like he can’t breath, and he doesn’t mind.

Actually, as a matter of fact, he’s reveling in it. This feeling, the feeling of someone absolutely needing him to know that they care for him, and that they were sorry for his game going awry, it makes him giddy.

Bokuto has decided he also likes breathing though, and pats her back in an effort to get her to unclench. Just a little, because when she starts to pull back too much, he roughly tugs her back in, and the breath of fresh air her lungs had just received is too-quickly released back to the atmosphere.

       “It’s okay,” he grins against her, “I’m just glad you came back. I wanted- needed you to come back. I wanted to meet you properly before I left you.” With that statement, she pulls away and narrows her eyes at him.

       “Umm, where are you planning on going?” she asks, flustered at the thought of him leaving so soon. 

       “Well, you know, I kind of live in Tokyo. And you’re a foreign exchange student, right? I just needed this one chance for us to, you know, meet.” YN had totally forgotten that she wasn’t from here, and that he was only visiting Karasuno for a practice match. After today, who knows how long it would be before she got to see him again. Quickly, she grasps the front of his jersey as she demands, “I need your phone number.”

       “Wow, ‘need’ huh? I’m not used to girls being so forward.”

       “Oh, shut up and gimme it.” YN whips out her phone and passes it to him, open and ready for a new contact.

Bokuto’s heart warms, and while typing in his information, he becomes all excited and jumpy at how desperate his soulmate seems to need contact with him. He decides he likes to feel needed, and he also decides he doesn’t like how far away his soulmate is at the moment.

Stepping directly to her, Bokuto whips out YN’s camera and grasps her on the shoulder, tugging her close and kissing her on the side of the cheek as she blushes rose-red for the picture. Snapping it quickly, Fukurodani’s captain sets it as his contact picture and sends it to his phone as well.

Eagerly, he shows her the picture he had taken and watches as she begins to shy away from him. Catching on quick, Bokuto hurriedly wraps his arm around her shoulder and tucks the side of his head into her hair. 

       With both of them still staring at the photo, Bokuto moves his mouth towards her ear and cheekily whispers, “We look amazing together. We must be destined for each other or something.”

       He moves away with a bright, slightly smug smile as YN softly nods. “Yeah, something like that.” Bokuto moves to stand directly in front of her and observes her bashful appearance, trailing a hand up to twirl a strand of black-and-whiteness between his fingertips. 

       “Your hair looks great like this, by the way.” 

       The mood in the hall darkens abruptly at his words. YN’s pleasant smile falls from her lips, and she instantly remembers that he is her soulmate. He is the one who ruined her hair from the moment she landed in Japan.

Oh man, did she get pissed. Turns out Bokuto isn’t the only one whose attitude can change in an instant. Maybe it has something to do with the hair?

                               ***

       Inside the gym, as the teams decided to keep playing, the game was going well. Karasuno’s newly developed skills were working, and Fukurodani was learning how to adjust to games without Bokuto. Just as the second set was about to end, however, the teams heard something... slightly unsettling. 

“Bokuto, you son of a b***h, what the f**k is wrong with you?! You a**hole, who the hell dyes their hair this color?! You dumba** motherf*****, I’m gonna kill you!” 

       Suddenly, Bokuto bursts into the gym and runs around like a headless chicken, releasing an ear-piercing screech.

“Akaashi help, my soulmate’s trying to kill me!”

The setter wasn’t surprised; he would react the same way if he had that hair and couldn’t change it. And as YN charged into the gym, storming after her fated lover, something told her she wasn’t as much of a fan of her hair as she originally thought.