He Returns From An Away Game (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)

He Has a Nightmare About Losing You (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: Headcanons cuz I be lazy :( Yes, yes, it has indeed been a while. But I hope you guys enjoy these short lil headcanons to make up for my absence!

Word count: 1250

Kozume Kenma: 

After he has the nightmare about you leaving him, he wakes up drenched in sweat.

His first instinct is to call you. He just wants to hear your voice, but…

He doesn’t say a word.

“Hello? Hello, Kenma? Kenma are you there?”

…

Beeeeeep.

This mf hangs up on you. 

The next day, you go to school with dark circles under your eyes, absolutely pissed and a lil worried.

You see him in the halls and he looks like absolute shit. When he sees you, his eyes light up, but he doesn’t make a move.

You have to go to him, and he doesn’t tell you what’s up for twenty minutes. Like you have to rip it straight out of him.

“What happened last night?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

… what.

So yeah, you’re sitting in class, smirking while he blank-face asks for his game back. The deal is taken, and he fiddles with his game and avoids your gaze while telling you what happened. 

Your heart breaks when you hear the story, the sadness in his voice chipping away at your resolve. 

“Kenma…” 

He’s never one to ask for physical affection, but he spares you a small glance after you say his name and it speaks volumes.

You wrap your arms around his middle and crush him into your chest, smiling sadly into his school blazer. 

“Next time, just tell me when you’re not okay, okay?”

His arms tighten around you, and his face buries deeper into your shoulder. 

“...Okay.”

Bokuto Koutarou: 

In the same dramatic fashion as his actions, he has a dream about you dying. Via volcano. Nonetheless, this panics him into a wild frenzy. 

It’s three am, and you get a call from your wonderful, loving boyfriend. 

“YN, COME HERE RIGHT NOW!”

Your voice is croaky and you cringe at his volume. “What…?”

“GET OVER HERE SO I CAN MAKE SURE YOU’RE ALIVE!”

Okay, one: you were literally speaking to him right now. And two: just… fuck no.

“Kou, it’s three am. The only reason I’d go over to your house right now is to kick your ass.”

You hang up after, and he tackles you first thing in the halls at school the next day. 

“YOU’RE ALIVE! MOUNT KILIMANJARO DIDN’T KILL YOU!”

You can only groan once again his overkill tone and rub your temples at an oncoming headache. Your face is shoved into his chest as he protectively peeks over your head for any incoming danger.

“That volcano is dormant, Bokuto.”

“AGAAASHEEEEE!”

Don’t worry, you were in a pissy mood now, but later you gave him many reassuring cuddles and kisses to calm him down. 

He made you sleep in his bed for the next three days.

Kuroo Tetsurou:

Kuroo is smoother than most when he has the nightmare. However, much like the others, he calls you.

“Mmm, hello?”

“Hey kitten, what’s up?”

...

“Tetsu… you called me.” 

Yeah, okay, only slightly smoother than sandpaper. But hey, he did his best!

Anyways, he explains his nightmare about you in that drool-worthy, husky morning voice of his. 

You both stay up to talk about it and more for hours, and much like a soothing lullaby, his gruff words eventually lull you to sleep.

“Kitten?”

No response.

“YN, are you awake?”

A soft snore sounds from the other end, and Kuroo can help but smile at his phone. 

“All right, Kitten, sleep well. Good night.” 

He ends the call, but the next day he teases and guilt-trips you for falling asleep on him. 

You have to make it up with lots of hugs and smooches, along with more and more sleepovers at his house, no matter how many times your parents embarrassingly shout at you to “Be safe!” and “Use protection!”

… You do.

Kageyama Tobio: 

The day is bright and beautiful, and birds chirp outside your window to a melodic tune. 

After you feel a poke to your forehead, your eyes tiredly flutter open to find your boyfriend Kageyama watching you like a hawk two inches away from your face. 

“Hey YN.”

“Hey babe…”

Cue awkward silence.

It’s too early for you, so as you try to close your eyes and fall back asleep, Kageyama inches closer to you. 

His gaze stays on your face like an itch you can’t scratch. Finally, after twenty minutes of you scrunching up your face and trying to force sleep, you snap. 

“Tobio, what’s wrong.”

“It’s fine. I’m nothing.”

“Mhmm.” Yeah, as if that would convince you. 

You move your face closer to his, little by little until your nose brushes his own. His lashes flutter closed at the feeling, and he lets out a small hum. 

“Tobio, come on. Tell me what happened.” 

After a sigh, he finally admits he had a nightmare.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No,” he shakes his head, the small tuft of hair on his forehead tickling you. “I just want to lay here with you.”

It was the most romantic thing he had ever said to you throughout your entire relationship aside from “I love you,” so you couldn’t help but give in to his wish. 

You tangled your legs with his own and guided his arms around you. 

While yes, you were mostly in a relationship with Kageyama because of his oh-so endearing attitude, his warm, awkwardly tight snuggles were just an added bonus.

Hinata Shouyou:

Much like the other Karasuno boy, you’re already in his bed when he has a nightmare. 

He imagined you leaving him for someone taller, and woke up with a cry of your name in the middle of the night. 

“YN!” 

He gasped and panted and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, gulping and glancing down at the sight of you. 

You were still knocked out, dead tired from the night’s earlier events. He couldn’t blame you. Even he was a little worn. 

The sight of you was beautiful. Comforting. Your hair was splayed out and tangled, and your bare shoulders peeked out from under the comforter, heavily marked and bruised from his lips. Your face was locked in a state of serenity as you snoozed away in his bed. 

Hinata let his fingers brush along your cheek while he bit back tears at the thought of losing you. 

He eventually gave in to his needs and laid beside you, snaking his arms around your waist and trapping you as close as possible to his own form. 

You woke up to the sound of small whimpers and a wet shoulder. 

“Shouyou?”

He squeaked and pressed his face deeper into your skin. 

“Please don’t leave me, YN. Please.”

Your mind was groggy and the heat radiating off the boy beside you was almost too much, but his broken voice sobered you up in a split second.

“I won’t,” you reassured, running your hands through his sweaty, orange strands. “I will never leave you.” 

“Good.” His tears seemed to slow at the thought, and he pressed a kiss against your bare skin. 

You in his bed was all he needed to recover from that terrible dream. You were his, and he was yours. Hinata knew that fact was undeniable as he hugged you tighter and you smiled at the feeling.

“How about a little pick-me-up?”

can i request the torn of rose akaashi part 3 when he regret everything he does to reader but it's to late pleaseeee

part 3 when i aint even got a part 2 😮‍💨 bro u gon' make me work aint u

jk jk and i mean its a good idea loving the angsty regret from his end but i kinda liked where it ended before. i feel like bois who cheat like akaashi did don't deserve any five minutes of spotlight for pity like my guy moved on while he was still in a relationship so i was never quite sure how to draw him back in to the reader and make him interested again. and once again angst is always troubling to write for me

Waking Him Up to Tell Him You Love Him (Haikyuu!! Fake Texts)

(Libero and Wing Spiker Version) Part 2

A/N: part 2 with Konoha even tho I don’t know his character👀 the pictures just don’t freaking fitttt

Nishinoya, Tanaka, Goshiki, and Kyoutani

I totally agree there needs to be more YANDERE! Daichi and YANDERE! Suga x Reader like ?!?!??! IMAGINE THE POSSIBILITIES AKDKAJFKSNJFDJ I practically screamed when I realized the plot twist literally went like "GENIUS!!! FUCKING GENIUS"

Afsjhkakdkd sameeeee

I’m just thinking about the cuddles from these bois and they got me kinda ✨funny✨

Nah but really, just imagine when they get jealous.

If it’s soft yandere, you’re just talking to a boy and daichi slips between you and him, making up an excuse or threatening him that if he ever talks to you again, he’ll [REDACTED]. Meanwhile, suga’s just dragging you away with a pout. “I can’t believe you were talking to that boy. What if he tried something on you? We would never forgive ourselves for letting something like that happen.” Daichi comes jogging after you later and wrapping an arm around your shoulder, Sugawara moving accordingly and winding an arm around your waist. They’re almost suffocating with all the heat, but they don’t seem to mind one bit. “Sorry if you don’t like it, baby, but we just get a little jealous when you’re around other guys, that’s all.”

If it’s hard yandere, once again you’re talking to another boy. You’re laughing, he’s laughing, then suddenly your being slammed against the nearest wall with an eyeful of pissed Sugawara. You hear grunts, and with fearful eyes you peer over his shoulder to see daichi slamming his fist against the boy’s jaw, kicking and beating and pounding on the guy in any way possible. Suddenly your chin is tugged back to face Suga head on, reluctantly meeting his furious gaze. “Look what happens when you talk to other boys yn.” Every scream of pain from over his shoulder rips a wave of fear through you, leaving you trembling in his hands. “We get jealous, and you really shouldn’t do that to us, should you?” You don’t respond for a second, and Suga grips your chin bruisingly tight. “Should you?” It hurts, so so bad. Bad enough that you hastily nod and whimper in relief when he releases you. “Good,” his rough hand returns to your body, this time latched onto your wrist. “We’re going home.” With one large yank, you’re stumbling after him, but he stops to call out to his partner in crime. “Daichi.” “Hmm?” “Our dear little yn needs a lesson on not talking to other boys. Obviously, we need to teach her that she’s only ours again. You comin’?” Daichi’s mouth curls into a smirk. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He rises off the boy and steps over to join you, leaving behind what somehow was a body lying in a puddle of blood. His hand was soaked as he captured your own, forcefully intertwining your fingers with his. “Bad girls like you deserve to be punished yn. Don’t try to cry your way out of it this time. Our darling needs to learn the only place she belongs is by our side.”

Your writing is amazing. You clearly have a talent and im glad i get to see it!!

Oh thank you so much!! This comment makes me really happy, so I’m glad I get to see your writing too lol 🥰💜

Is oreo your kitty??? THEY'RE so pretty... I think I'm in love

Yes🥺 he is my floofy little chonker and I love him with all my heart😊💖

Sorry I can’t add another pic of him tho, scared of online creepers and all that😔 but I promise he loved your praise🥰🥰

The Red String of Somethingness (Kenma x Reader/Soulmate AU) *Request*

*GIF not mine*

Summary: You’ve been waiting for your soulmate your whole life. Preparing to go into high school, you’re excited for more opportunities to find your destined partner. But… then you find him. And his girlfriend. 

Part 1

A/N: askdfh thank you so much for the kind words🥺 I’m so glad you guys liked that fic, I wasn’t really confident in it. As per requests, here’s a second part to The Red String of Nothingness with a happy ending. I’m sorry it took a lil while to get out :( but uhh I hope you guys like it!

Word count: 2909

        You couldn’t help it.

       “YN, grab the water bottles please!”

       Even though it hurt, some part of you just wanted-- no, needed to see him. Just being in class with him wasn’t enough. 

       “On it!”

       No matter how many times you called it an extracurricular activity, you knew deep down it was so much more than that. It bordered on creepy just how much you watched him during practice. But… it made life more bearable. 

       While, yes, Kenma’s girlfriend would occasionally come and watch practices, most of the time you could pretend she didn’t exist. It was just you and him when she wasn’t around, and you hated how much that thought pleased you. 

       “Thanks.” The blond setter spared you a small smile as he accepted the bottle, gulping down the drink with the thirst of a man stranded in the desert. Practice had gone for about an hour and a half now, and gave purpose to the sweat droplets trailing down his forehead. It took a tremendous amount of effort to even drag your gaze away from his flushed face. 

       You couldn’t help it. As much as you wanted to ignore it, you were falling hard. Kenma was… perfect. He handed out smiles sparingly, making you feel blessed whenever you were on the receiving end. Every move he made was carefully calculated, and you loved the look of curiosity and intrigue that would occasionally flicker when something fell out of place. In volleyball, in school, in life, he was simply all-around breathtaking. You hung on every sparse word that fell from his lips because God, he was just beautiful. 

       Often you wondered if he thought the same about you. 

       Yes, yes, you knew he had a girlfriend. That simple fact kept you awake at night, biting back tears and hugging a pillow to your chest. But during the day, you never let it show. Because, well, it simply felt good to see him. Being around your soulmate, together or not, made the pain just the tiniest bit more bearable. 

       That’s what soulmates were supposed to do, after all. Comfort their other halves with their presence, make them feel loved and cherished. So yes, just being near him, just being his volleyball team manager was enough. 

       “Kenma, you’re doing so good baby!” 

       Most of the time. 

                               ~~~

       School sucked. It always sucked. 

       More recently, however, you thanked whatever floated up in that deep blue sky for it, because you sat next to him. 

       “Ms. YLN, please pay attention!” You straightened up in your chair and nodded your head frantically, blushing at the sounds of giggles around the room. 

       “Sorry sir.” The teacher glanced at you over his glasses with pursed lips before returning to the board, scraping random equations in white chalk. 

       You couldn’t help it. It was the only time Kenma’s girlfriend was guaranteed to not be around. In those times, your heart fluttered at his proximity. It seemed you had become hyper-aware of his presence over the past few weeks, shivering at even the slightest bit of contact. 

       Like a lonely dog, you felt touch-starved, depraved of your body’s most necessary essentials. Not being around Kenma made you grumpier, more easily disturbed and aggravated. Being around Kenma’s girlfriend, however, had the same effect. 

       Moments like those, where Kenma was so close to touch and yet so far away in your heart was when you defaulted to your newest habit-- poking, prodding, and twirling the red string on your pinkie. 

       Weeks-- or was it months-- ago, you had sputtered the lie that you couldn’t see it; that Kenma’s eternal attachment to you was one-sided, but it soon became your largest source of comfort. 

       Now was one of those moments. You had a lapse in judgement, and being nervous and embarrassed after being called out by your teacher, you slipped up. And Kenma saw. 

       Gnawing on your lip, you anxiously pinched the ruby string. It was smooth, almost like silk, but just as thick as woven yarn, wrapped loosely around your final finger. You twisted and rotated it, spinning nervous circles around your skin. 

       And then you tugged. 

       Kenma’s left hand, absent-mindedly holding up his chin while the other drew lazy patterns on his desk top, slips right out from under his head and falls limply into the aisle space between your and his desks. He barely avoids face-planting by flattening his other palm against the table and holding himself up, and by then you know you’re screwed. 

       His eyes are wide as they dart to his fallen arm, dragging it back up to his desk and staring in bewilderment at his hand, or more specifically his pinkie. Even more specifically, the red string wrapped around it, trailing through the air and creating a flimsy bridge to you. 

       Oh shit.

       You’re clenching your jaw and avoiding his awed gaze with all the will you can muster, but a discovery has already been made. 

       “YN-” 

       “Mr. Suzuki!” You snap your hand up in the air in an instant, trying to ignore how it trembles. The red string is clearly visible to both you and Kenma at this point, and fuck, he knows! “May I please go to the bathroom?”

       “Can it wait-”

       “It’s an emergency!”

       “Ohh, y-yes please do.” 

       Kenma watches you with a look in his eyes you don’t dare decipher as you slip out of the classroom, ducking your head and chewing on the insides of your cheeks. 

       Goddamnit YN!

                               ~~~

       Attending the volleyball game tonight almost wasn’t an option, but the coach begged and pleaded that you be there. 

       “Bring it to me!”

       It was only a practice game, but against your school’s most fated rivals. The “trash-can showdown,” everyone was calling it. 

       “It’s up!” 

       The other team, Karasuno, was good, but less-experienced. However, they did have a little spitfire on their team that appeared almost identical to a tangerine, and slightly reminded you of Nemo. 

       Wham!

       He was good too. 

       Kenma, however, seemed out of it. He could play his best during a thunderstorm wrapped up in a monsoon, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t see how disturbed he was. Especially since every few seconds his eyes locked on you.

       But alas, the game also had one very special guest. Her. So you kept your distance and avoided his presence like the plague. 

       Slam!

       Pop!

       Boom! 

       The game is over sooner than you expect it, and you flip over the last point card. Nekoma wins 25-23, and all the boys are worn to the bone. 

       “One more game!” the ginger spiker cries aloud, his blue setter nodding in agreement. 

       They’re the only ones standing while everyone else is passed out in sweat puddles. “Fuck no!” Yamamoto hisses, dropping his head back to the floor directly after. 

       A giggle sounds from the wall, but only you were close enough to hear it from your spot nearby. It’s Kenma’s girlfriend, and she’s watching…. 

       Oh. 

       You knew that look before. Her petite figure, from head to toe, is directed toward Karasuno’s pint-sized middle blocker. 

       You couldn’t lie. They would look good together. Perfect even.

       Oh. 

                               ~~~

       Weeks. Fucking weeks passed and they were still together, just as lovey-dovey as before, if not more so now. 

       Distantly, you wondered if Kenma knew. You wondered if she had told him she met her soulmate. You wondered if…. 

       Fuck it.

       There was no point in wondering. They were still together, and not even meeting their soulmates had stopped them. 

       It was the ultimate blockade in their relationship, and they broke through like no big deal. Maybe you were right. Maybe you just weren’t meant to be, no matter how much you fucking praised yourself for finally gaining the guts to tug on your string. 

       That shit doesn’t happen on accident, you know. 

       But obviously it had no effect. A young spiker at another school would be left just as lonely as you. His eyes were so bright and innocent, full of life. You envied him, so naive and wide-eyed, because unlike you, he would never have to watch his soulmate with somebody else. The boy, Hinata you think his name was, would go his whole life with the hope that one day his soulmate would find him and be with him forever.  

       God, how you envied his obliviousness. You didn’t want this baggage, emotional and physical. The more you were around Kenma, the more your string tugged against your pinkie, urging you to fight for what you would never win. 

       Perhaps… without the connection, you could feel better?

       Certainly it wouldn’t hurt, right? 

       Just a little snip and you could go back out into the world just as your own soulmate had done. Find someone to settle down and be happy with, no matter how daunting of a task that was. 

       Maybe Kenma could be happy for you, just as you had been for him initially. Surely this act would benefit you both, right? 

       The string was just… useless at this point. It held no purpose other than pain. And with that, you had decided. 

       Finding scissors in a school is easy. An art class was your first target. All classes had just ended and people were making their ways home. 

       Volleyball practice would start soon.

       You would be there, happy as a clam. Free as a bird.

       You only had twenty minutes before it began. Luckily, the action could be performed quickly. It was the internal resistance that made the task five hundred times harder. 

       The teacher had left for the day, leaving her classroom unlocked for the custodian. Students occasionally walked past the open doorway, still emptying out of the building, and if they were to glance inside, all they would see is you. You, seated upon a desk, a pair of scissors in one hand, the other hand sitting tentatively in your lap. You, blank-faced observing your pinkie and the string wrapped around it. 

       You, ready to let go of all the pain. 

       It won’t hurt anymore, YN!

       When you see him, he’ll just be another person to you. A nobody.

       You can move on now! Find someone for yourself if you just fucking snipped it!

       The blades stood parted, waiting for the order, for just a little pressure on both ends. Then it would all be over. 

       But you couldn’t. 

       No matter how much you strained your hand, urging yourself to squeeze the muscles, close the blade and rupture the broken promise, you couldn’t do it. 

       “Goddamnit,” you mumbled under your breath, squeezing your eyes closed and wishing you weren’t crying over this. 

       It was so unfair. The only person being hurt throughout all of this was you. Nobody else cared. Nobody else noticed. Nobody else-

       “YN.” What?

       You jumped at the sudden voice, soft and all-too familiar. The blades slipped between your fingers after having flinched and clattered to the floor, catching more ears than anything else. Kenma’s gaze only flickered to the kiddy scissors once before it returned back to you, pained.

       “You, umm, you shouldn’t do that.” 

       Excuse me?

       “What?” You were the definition of dumbfounded, immobilized on top of the desk with your fingers twitching just above your lap. 

       “You shouldn’t do that.” 

       Nothing had changed. He stood right in the doorway, the sunlight from the hallway windows giving his uneasy posture an angelic aura. No emotion was clear on his face; instead, it was a mixture of furrowed brows and pursed lips, followed by golden eyes that swirled with an unfamiliar emotion. 

       He, in himself, was a blur of mixed messages. 

       “Why not?” Of course you knew what he was talking about, but you felt more and more peeved at his words. He had no right to tell you what to do with such a useless, unbearable, futile red string-

       “We broke up.” 

       …

       Oh.

       Suddenly it was hard to breathe. 

       “W-what?”

       “She broke up with me.”

       You were speechless. Mouth gaping like a fish, you struggled to find the words, any words to say to him. You didn’t even know how to feel, so you settled on the most basic reaction for when someone says those words. 

       “Oh, Kenma I’m so sorry.” 

       “No you’re not.” 

       “Excuse me?”

       “You’re not.” He shrugged, finally stepping into the room and letting the door fall to a close. “And do you want to know how I know you’re not?” 

       You couldn’t respond. 

       “It’s because I’m not sorry either.” The words leave your heart racing as Kenma approaches you. Every step he takes triples the number of butterflies in your stomach. His shoes squeak against the floor but your eyes stay locked on his. You just couldn’t look away. You didn’t want to. 

       Finally, he’s close enough to touch you, just a hand’s width away from your knees where they bend and let your lower legs dangle. Your ears are perked and lying in wait while you fiddle with your fingers in your lap, hoping to fight off the urge to reach out for him. 

       “YN, I’m not sorry because it felt right.” Kenma shakes his head. “It felt good- actually, no, not good. Perfect. I wasn’t supposed to be with her.” He sounded hopeless. “On the inside, deep down, I realized I was glad I wasn’t.” 

       “...Why?” 

       “Because that girl who sat next to me in class, the girl who managed for all of my volleyball games and yet she didn’t know about our red string, she was on my mind twenty-four seven. YN, I just couldn’t stop thinking about you.” 

       You were wrong. Kenma didn’t sound hopeless. Sure, he sounded confused and lost, but not hopeless. If anything, you were finally able to identify that look in his eyes. Hope. 

       For a moment, you had nothing to say. Your chest was almost overflowing with joy, but something… something was stopping it. Apprehension stood in the form of a shadow of doubt. Why didn’t he…

       “Why didn’t you do anything sooner?” You had just wanted to get the feeling out in some form of words. The feeling of Why did you string me along for weeks after finding out I knew?

       Kenma was smarter than he looked. He always was, so you were glad he had uncovered the meaning behind your words. 

       “I thought…” he gulps and finally looks away after minutes of watching you, “I thought you didn’t want me. You didn’t tell me you knew about the string, and when I found out,” he shrugs, “I figured you didn’t say anything because you didn’t want me.” 

       Maybe… maybe you had both made mistakes. You had both indirectly hurt each other. Each of you was broken and hurting after what had transpired for months. Maybe the best way to go about fixing it was to finally do it together. Be together. 

       “I did want you. And I still want you. Do you… want me?”

       At last, Kenma raises his head and makes eye contact with you, causing your heart to do somersaults in your chest. His cheeks are rosy, most likely almost identical to your own, and he decides to gift you a hint of a smile. 

       “Yes, please.” 

                               ~~~

       “Kenma, set it this way!”

       “One touch!” 

       “I got it, I got it!”

               “Back me up!” 

       The setter was back to his A-game, and with every successful play, he sent you a glance.

       Like a good girlfriend, you sent him back a proud grin each time that made him flush more than the sweat dripping down his temple. 

       By the end of the game, they won with four points to spare. The team hopped around in joy, screaming and pumping fists with cheers of triumph.

       A small tug on your pinkie directed your eyes back to Kenma, where his lips twitched in effort to hold back a grin. Another tug almost pulled you off the bench, causing you to rise to your feet with a giggle. 

       The moment you came closer, Kenma shyly wrapped his arms around you and released an excited squeak into your hair. 

       “We won.” You could hear the restrained glee in his tone, it’s only outlet being the steadily increasing tightness of his hold around your waist. 

       Fine, you would celebrate for him, as always. 

       “YEAH YOU DID!” you squealed excitedly, digging your fingers into his sweaty jersey and jumping up and down. His form stayed stiff against your own, jiggling back and forth with your movements. 

       It was only when you tried to peel away that he finally responded, tugging you back in and smiling against your neck. “Geez, calm down, it’s only a game.”

       “Pfft.”

       Kenma chuckles and presses a kiss to your skin and suddenly you’re on cloud nine. 

       Nothing could be better than this, because this was destined. This was written among the stars, etched into the many spirals of the milky way, crafted only by fate itself.

       This was two soulmates, forever meant to be. 

        What a useful red string this is.

Bed Head (Kuroo x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Kuroo’s hair was an undeniable nuisance. It was a shame, though, because it was here to stay. 

A/N: I will murder writer’s block with my bare hands, just watch me. Anyways, thank you guys so much for 200 followers! Please enjoy!

Word count: 1406

        It was a peaceful morning. The sun was peeking through your closed blinds and the bird’s nest outside your window was chirping happily at the day. All was well and calm. And your boyfriend… well, let’s just say his hair decided it wanted to be your breakfast.

       “Pluh,” you spat out the strands, “ugh, gross Tetsu! Get your rat’s nest away from my face!” His head untucked from your chin and he served you a nasty glare, repositioning from his place on your chest. After he nestled into your side, you could finally breathe a full gasp of air, something you had wished to do all night but couldn’t. Kuroo had an annoying fascination with cuddling directly on top of you, claiming he wanted to “keep you warm like a blanket.” It felt like sleeping under a boulder. 

       “You know this is mostly your fault anyways.” He peeled a hand away from your hips to gesture at his wild tufts sticking out here and there. 

       “Oh please, your hair’s been a homemade explosion for longer than I’ve been around.” You smirk at him and begin prodding at the unmoving strands. They bounced right back with every poke you gave; it was fascinating. 

       “Well I know that, but you’re the only one who’s been making it worse lately.” Swatting your hands away, he gave you a smug look after his whisper. Your body hand tensed under his touch while your eyes widened. 

       “I certainly hope so,” you softly smile back and he hums. Kuroo’s long, rough fingers return to your sides and softly caress the skin there while the room quiets once more. You’re not too ticked off anymore, so you tug his head back down to your chest and embrace the feeling of his grin against your clothed front. As you silently stare at the ceiling while basking in your boyfriend’s warm presence, a fiber of pure evil itself pokes you in the eye after he readjusts his face into your collarbone. 

       “That’s it! I’m done!” You push him off and decide it’s time to finally get ready for the day. It’s six a.m. on a Saturday. You don’t have shit to do, but you certainly don’t want to stick around with rooster head fwapping you in the face every two seconds. “Next time your hair chokes me out while I yawn, I’m shaving it all off.” You point accusingly at his mop of black hair and glare at it while readjusting your pajamas, which consisted of underwear and Kuroo’s shirt from last night. 

       “Oh please,” he simpers at you, “if you did that, you would have nothing to tug on when we’re-” 

       “Shut up!” You throw the nearest pillow at his face while your own blossoms bright red. A deep chuckle echoes throughout the room while you turn away to gather a towel and clothes for a morning shower. 

       “Come on, YN, it’s only six, come back to bed.” The mattress squeaks behind you while you dig through a dresser for some pants. “I’ll make it worth your while.” His sly, husky voice is closer than before as he makes his way over to you. 

       “Nothing is worth getting stabbed in the eye again,” you try to ignore the feeling of his gaze watching you while his presence looms closer. “How is your hair even that sharp?” you mumble before locating your target. 

       “Ah-ha!” you shout victoriously before whipping around with a pair of yoga pants in hand. 

       Plmpf.

       Oops.

       Your decided clothing for the day shitwhips Kuroo across the face, who yelps in surprise. The room grows dangerously quiet as he holds his cheek from the smack and looks over at you. Run.

       It was a simple suggestion, so you listened. Letting out a terrified screech, you tear cheek down the hall and into the bathroom, slamming the door in front of a boyfriend in hot pursuit. 

       “It was a love tap, don’t get so pissy,” you exclaim while dropping your clothes onto the counter, heaving gasps of air from the small-but-sudden distance run. The door opens next to you- shit, the locks- ominously slow, hinges creaking as a dark presence stands motionless in the dim entryway. The fuck is he doing?

       You stare at the man with raised brows and hands on your hips. “What are you, a serial killer?” The serious look on Kuroo’s face drops and his fingers rub the side of his face miserably. 

       “That hurt, YN!” he pouts sullenly before stepping into the bathroom and hugging you close, rubbing his face against yours. “I need a kiss and a shower to make it feel better.”

       “Oh really?” He nods shortly. You shake your head and laugh. “All right, you big baby. Come on.”

                               ~~~

       The shower was hot and heavy for one reason: Kuroo hated cold showers with a passion. No, nothing saucy happened. You guys just washed yourselves, brushed your teeth, did the deed, washed yourselves again, then dried off and got out. Nothing out of the norm. Except when you stood in front of the mirror brushing your hair while Kuroo hugged you from behind, you couldn’t help but watch his own hair. He wasn’t wrong; it was fun to yank on in the heat of the moment. But seriously, even after a thirty-minute, finger-pruning shower, his dripping, black locks still pointed proudly atop his head in every direction. How the hell-

       “Let me fuck with your hair,” you demanded, eyes still locked on his head.

       Kuroo snickers behind you, arms tightening around your waist. “Isn’t that what just happened?” he asks cheekily, bottom lip caught between his teeth. You scoff and whirl around to face him, brush left forgotten on the counter. 

       “That’s not what I meant,” you roll your eyes, “I mean, let me, you know.” Your hands waved around wild, unknowable gestures while your boyfriend raised his brow at you.

       “Yes?”

       “Let me, like, gel it up or something,” you shrugged, reaching up to comb through the bang dangling in front of his eye. Kuroo chuckled lowly, and you stared frightened as he got louder and louder, turning into a devious cackle as he busted a gut. 

       “Okay.” He stopped laughing suddenly with a dead-serious face. “Go ahead, give it your best shot.” You cracked a hesitant smile, still shaken by his howls. After being given the go-ahead, you gathered gels, hairsprays, mousse, hell, even a straightener. Whatever you could scavenge that could do something to hair, you grabbed it. 

       At last, you hauled the basket full of products back to your room and dropped it next to an unaffected Kuroo, who watched you with bored eyes. If anyone were to see you right now, they would think you had set up a barbershop in your own room. You even had scissors, but you didn’t want to tell Kuroo about those. 

       “Are you ready?” You held up a bottle of hairspray with devious eyes, but he wasn’t intimidated in the slightest.

       “Do your worst,” he smiled back at you calmly. 

       “Oh, I will.”

                               ~~~

       Kuroo’s bedhead was forged by the gods. It was unbreakable, unyielding, and was given birth to directly next to Thor’s insurmountable hammer. You weren’t worthy. It was absolute and utter bullshit.

       “What the fuck is wrong with your hair?!” You shouted angrily, throwing the empty container of hair gel at the ground. It rolled and joined the group of used hairspray canisters. 

       “I'm untameable, baby. Don’t know what to tell ya.” Kuroo shrugged before rising from your bed and embracing you. You clenched your jaw against his chest but gave in to his hug.

       “It’s not fair,” you mumbled into his shoulder while he nodded and rubbed your back comfortingly. You pulled away slightly to glare at his black tufts. They were in their usual shape, just covered in shiny gel and crispy hairspray. I will beat you one day.

       “Whatcha doing?” 

       “Nothing.” You huddled back into his embrace, knowing you were fighting a one-sided battle. Resistance was futile. You groan and nuzzle your cheek closer to his chest while he chuckles softly. 

       Long live the bed head.

Can i be tagged in Reborn please? ♥️

Of course my friend🙏I got u💜

Hiya can you do Tsukishima crushing on Sugawara younger sister who is in the same year and class as him and Sugawara is super protective of his younger sister? ❤❤❤❤❤ five hearts for the best rating of an awesome writer

This is like three years old but I'm trying to clean out my inbox and I came up with ideas for this years ago so here they are:

“Awww, you loveeee me,” yn coos. 

“No,” he rolls his eyes and turns away, “I don’t.”

“Tsukki fell in love with meeee,” she sang, rocking from side to side with a teasing grin. 

I feel like Suga is mostly resistant to letting Tsukishima date his sister bc he knows how mean and rash Tsukki can be. 

Tsukishima one time just walks up behind yn and drops his forehead onto her shoulder. A muffled groan escapes from him while she pats his cheek and snorts. “Why is everyone so stupid?”

In the distance, Sugawara sees this and malfunctions. This is the first time he’s seen them together. 

For the first time in tsukishima’s life, he actually wanted human contact. He wanted to hold someone, maybe their hand. Or hug someone, even for just a second. He wanted to run his hands down their sides and brush the stray hairs from their face.

It was you. That “someone” was you.

yn sugawara.