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Reborn (Bokuto/Akaashi x Reader) ~Chapter 3~

(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: Can I get a waffle? Can I puh-lease get a waffle?? Ugh, anyways, I hope y’all are ok with this chapter, cuz it’s a lil… ugh. I just wanna binge Once Upon a Time, but whatever. Hope you enjoy!

Tag List: @burntcilantro​  @alloverbutterflies​  @translucentthoughts​  @zaejia​  @momothepeachgirl  @black-veil-chemicalz​  @miigoth​  @blxkstar​  @keigosbitch​  @actual-smol​

Word count: 4900

        Bokuto just wouldn’t leave you alone. 

        All you had done was let him drink your blood, and now he followed you around like a lovesick puppy. 

        “YN! Can I get you anything?”

        “YN! Are you hungry?”

        “YN! Do you need help with something?”

        “YN!”

        “YN!”

        “YN!”

        Every five minutes, he popped into your room with a bright smile and a need to please. He even crawled into your bed at nights while you were sleeping! Always slipping under your covers and wrapping his arms around you from behind, it scared you half to death. It was a shame he never stuck around to get a lecture, though. Just before you wake up, he always manages to sneak away. Once, you even felt Akaashi join the party, and woke up to two people spooning you with the temperature of a thousand suns. 

        They almost gave you a heat stroke. 

        Since then, it’s always been Bokuto, except today you had the pleasure of waking up before him. You had spun in his tighter-than-normal grip around your waist and delivered a quick shove to his chest. “You’re too warm, get the fuck out,” you had muttered with a yawn, and his body flopped onto the floor shortly after. 

        And now, as Bokuto popped into your room for the fiftieth time today with something actually worth talking about this round, you couldn’t help but grimace at your television. 

        “YN YLN is still missing. If you have any information on her or her whereabouts, please contact the police at…” you didn’t care to listen to the rest. Clicking off the TV, you slumped down onto your sofa and hugged a pillow to your chest. 

        “Can’t believe they used that ugly-ass picture,” you grumbled, still glaring at the black screen. 

        “YN!” There he is. “We brought you dinner!” 

        “Is it poisoned?”

        “NO!”

        “Damn.”

        “Don’t talk like that,” Akaashi glowers, handing you a tray of food before snapping his fingers. Three cozy dining chairs and a wooden table manifests from thin air between your bed and the glass doors to your balcony, and he holds out a hand to guide you to the new furniture. 

        “What’s this?” you ask warily, waving away his offer and proceeding to take your new seat without assistance. 

        “We haven’t dined together in a century,” Akaashi sits across from you and levitates a pitcher of water, filling your glass. “Bokuto and I want to make up for lost time.” 

        Said man nods his head excitedly and claims the final chair between the two of you, leaving one side empty at the rectangular table.

        The menu for tonight consists of a medium-done steak for each of you, alongside some appetizers of various vegetables and a basket of buttered rolls. The centerpiece is a small, silver candelabra, which soon becomes the only lighting for your meal as the light bulb in your bedroom flickers and turns dark. 

        “Damn,” you chuckle nervously, picking at your intricately-crafted dining utensils, “didn’t know you guys treated your captives so well. Does everyone get this royal treatment?”

        “You’re so much more than our captive, my love,” Akaashi simpers. 

        You purse your lips, growing more and more uncomfortable by the second. You hypothesized this elaborate dinner had something to do with you finally giving in and wearing a black, slimming mermaid dress from your ancient closet. Disappointingly, it was the most casual outfit in there, although the bedazzled sweetheart neckline drew a little too much unwanted attention from the vampire to your right. 

        “Who even are you guys?” you scoff.

        “The loves of your lives.”

        Akaashi’s response left you busting a gut, and Bokuto nervously made eye contact with his friend. “Oh, come on,” you snort, hiding your grin behind a hand out of habit, “quit tooting your own horn. First of all, ‘love’? Don’t kid yourself. Second of all, what the hell do you mean by ‘lives’?”

        Neither man appreciates your words, or your reaction. Akaashi narrows his gunmetal blue eyes at you, nostrils flaring with distaste. Bokuto’s golden eyes flicker to pure red for a split second, and his hands reach up to grip the table’s edge with white knuckles. 

        “It’s still too soon to tell you,” the wizard seethes through clenched teeth. Your laughs slow, but when Bokuto snatches up his knife and slices into his steak swiftly in the blink of an eye, you sober right up. With a nervous nibble on your bottom lip, you discretely slide your chair a few inches to the left and avoid the black and white-haired man’s burning gaze. 

        “Look,” you draw your attention away from the massacred hunk of meat, “since I’m kinda like your guys’ friend now-”

        “We’re more than friends!” Bokuto barks, chomping on his meal bitterly. Akaashi nods in agreement and you roll your eyes at the action.

        “Easy, you two. I was iffy about even calling us ‘friends.’” 

        “Then what would you call yesterday?” the vampire pouts slightly. You had let him feed off you again, as he seemed to be on the verge of another carnivorous outrage. It still felt similar to getting, you know, stabbed in the neck. Twice. But you just couldn’t stand to see him go hungry again. You were feeling generous. 

        “Reciprocity. Even wild animals in nature do it. You saved my life, so I… did that thing.”

        “Didn’t feel like reciprocity when you moaned ‘don’t stop’ in my ear-”

        “Enough!” The table wobbles and the dishes clang together with the force of Akaashi’s palm smacking the surface. His head is lowered so you couldn’t see his eyes, but the strain of his voice was enough to clue you in on his irritation. That and the glass of water he had to catch in midair with an extended pinkie. “YN,” Akaashi continues tightly, raising his gaze to face you. Their mixture of emotion made your heart skip a beat. “What did you want to know?”

        You gulp, and unlike normal, Bokuto doesn’t glue his eyes to the movement. Instead, he pushes around the broccoli on his plate. “Why am I here?” you finally find your voice, watching them both with confusion. 

        The black-haired wizard sighs and picks up a spoon in a dish, slowly serving himself while shaking his head. 

        “Let us eat dinner first. Then we’ll answer any questions you may have.” 

                                ~~~

        The bed is crowded. After the tense meal, Akaashi had directed you all to your mattress while the elegant set up disappeared with a flick of his wrist. 

        You sit with your back against the headboard, and your fingers gently comb through Bokuto’s hair. The vampire’s head is on your lap, his hands folded on his stomach while his legs hang off the edge, kicking occasionally. It wasn’t the most appropriate position for a kidnapper-kidnapee discussion, but Bokuto was always touchy-feely nowadays. You didn’t exactly mind it, though; his hair was surprisingly soft. Meanwhile, Akaashi sits at the end, cross-legged with a straight back, although he drags his touch over your calves and ankles every-so often. The feeling tickles, but the atmosphere is so serious you don’t dare make a sound. 

        “All right,” the wizard pipes up, tracing small circles against your skin, “would you like me to start from the beginning?” 

        “Yep.”

                                ~~~

        “Ladies and gentleman, thank you for gathering tonight to celebrate the wedding of my daughter and Tetsurou Kuroo! Now, enjoy the ball!” 

        Your father clapped adamantly and the crowd followed the silent order like compliant minions. 

        You, on the other hand, irked your jaw before standing up from your throne. Kuroo followed dutifully, still wearing his signature smirk. 

        “Wait, hold up. Kuroo?!”

        “Yes, but just wait.”

        “Would you like to dance, my dear YN?” 

        “Not in a million years, Kuroo,” you scoff, rolling your eyes at the offer. He waggles his finger disappointedly at you and clicks his tongue. 

        “Now, now, kitten, no need to be hostile. We are, after all, man and wife.” 

        You bare your teeth at him, flashing your fangs before your father discreetly grabs your upper arm in a death grip. 

        “YN, how dare you? This arrangement is for the benefit of the kingdom, quit acting like a spoiled brat,” the king hisses. 

        “Father!” you gasp, and he rips his hand away from you. 

        “Be quiet!” Your father, the ruler of all vampire-kind,  swiftly makes his way onto the floor to chat amiably with other royals from the area. 

        The glittering, golden room, was crowded elegantly-dressed people of all kinds of nature. Vampires and werewolves, wizards and fairies, hell even a few mermaids had swam their way into the party. The unification of the century.

        In the late twelfth century, werecats had become a force to be reckoned with in the blink of an eye. They had monopolized almost all supernatural land with their powerful army, slaying everybody and anybody who attempted to sway them from absolute control. In a last ditch effort to make peace, your father had offered you into an arranged marriage with the prince of werecats, Tetsurou Kuroo. You were a savior, the key to harmony for all, simply by becoming his queen. The title contained a lot of weight to bear.

        Your father was the one who gave you no choice in the matter. Any other princesses of the varied species on Earth could have been offered, but the King of Vampires was greedy. You would be the one to rescue all living creatures, simply by marrying into a loveless alliance. Kuroo was not an evil man. You had met him, chatted with him, even become a friend of his enough to know. He was kind and loving, but you just couldn’t find it in yourself to return his affections. 

        “Akaashi’s just kidding. Kuroo’s the worst.”

        “Silence, Bokuto.”

        Nonetheless, you had become engaged, and then you were married. Somewhere deep down, though, you knew there was something else out there for you. Or someone. Someone… outside the window and in the garden. 

        There, among your treasured roses, were two men. One with black hair, and one with white hair, riddled with dark streaks. Their presence, though a bit unwelcome in your private utopia of flowers, was alluring. 

        “Kuroo, please excuse me,” you mumbled distractedly, eyes still locked beyond the glass pane. “I need to adjust my corset.” 

        “Don’t keep me waiting too long, kitten. People are still expecting our first dance as a true couple.”

        “Yeah, yeah, whatever douchebag. I see some hotties, so I’ll catch you later.”

        “Bokuto, quit interrupting!” 

        “Sorry Akaashi.”

        “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you sneered, squeezing his cheeks in effort to appear loving. 

        “You’re not my grandmother, just finish your business so we can get this dance over with.” Kuroo ushered your hands away, but his cheeks were still stained pink even after you disappeared down the steps behind your thrones. 

        Slipping into the hallway, you hid behind vases and under clothed tables to dodge security knights, and finally escaped outside to meet the pair of mysterious men. 

        “Ugh, Akaaaaaashi!” You peered from behind a wall of bushes gathered against the sides of the castle. They both stood near your cherished flowers, and the one who had spoken regarded them with childlike curiosity. “Why are we here again?” 

        “I felt us drawn here for… something. I’m not sure. But I’m not leaving until we get caught. Or until the night ends. There’s just something here for us, I promise.” 

        You held back a giggle when the bulkier man pricked his finger on a rose thorn, letting out a horrendous screech. 

        “Silence, Bokuto.” 

        “Well, I see you haven’t changed much.”

        “Silence, YN.”

        “Wait, Akaashi. I smell something.”

        “I told you not to eat that flower-”

        “Not that!” The taller man rose from his squat near your plants and sniffed the air. “It smells like… my grandmother’s cinnamon bread!” He raises his nose and sniffs again, walking toward the scent. Walking towards you. “It smells so good!” he exclaims, wiggling with excitement as he draws nearer to your cowering form. 

        “It’s… It’s…”

        “It’s Brittany, bitch.”

        “Goddammit, YN, you’re beginning to act like Bokuto. That’s a bad decision.”

        “Hey!”

        “It’s a girl!” The man points at you with a wide grin, baring his fangs instinctively. You jump at the sight and widen your eyes at how he had spotted you. The dark-haired male glances up from the ground with surprise, and his blue orbs sparkle when they meet yours. 

        “Umm, hi,” you swallow nervously, stepping away from the wall. 

        “Oh wow, you’re beautiful!” The larger man’s comment makes you flush bright red. 

        “T-thank you.” You glance away and hide your cheeks in your silk-gloved palms. “I can’t help but notice you’re in my garden.” Smiling nervously, you gain enough courage to gesture to the plants around you. 

        “Yes, my princess,” the man with dark hair pulls his friend backward by the collar and tugs him down in a bow, “we are so sorry for intruding. We will leave immediately.”

        “No!” you cry out, holding out your hands to stop them. “Please… don’t. I could use the company.”

        “Oh.” 

        “S-so, um, what are your names?” Avoiding their shocked gazes, you pick at your flowing, purple dress anxiously. 

        “Keiji Akaashi, and this is my friend Koutarou Bokuto.” 

        “Is Akaashi even your real name?”

        “Has been for the past millennia.”

        “And you?”

        “I’ve been Koutarou Bokuto for one and one-tenth of a millennia! I found lil’ baby Akaashi here stranded in the middle of the woods.”

        “And yet I’m the one who has to take care of you now.”

        “You’re so mean, Akaashi!”

        “Nice to meet you,” you grin, outstretching your hand for a shake. Akaashi stares mystified at the act, but slowly accepts. Just as sparks begin to flow through your body from the ounce of contact, Bokuto eagerly shoves his companion out of the way and shakes your hand as well, doubling the amount of adrenaline pumping through your body. Your breath hitches and your eyes widen while you stare at your hand in surprise. It tingles, but in a good way. In an amazing way. Then your wrist starts to burn, and you hastily tug off your glove in an attempt to stop whatever causes the twinge. 

        A single dark spiral with three legs has forged itself into your skin. A small gasp comes from in front of you, and you glance up to see Bokuto beaming at his own wrist. 

        “Akaashi, is this-”

        “Yes.” His shorter companion nods with a barely visible quirk of his lips, eyes also locked on the mark. 

        “What is this?” you pipe up, rubbing over the symbol with a wet thumb in desperate attempt to remove it. 

        “It’s a sign.”

        “For what?!” you plead in a panic. 

        “That you’re meant to be with us. You’re ours.” The world stops turning for just a few moments.

        The rousing words, their adoring gazes, even their proximity to you is enough to have your heart racing. You’ve always been someone else’s though, whether it was your father or Kuroo, and neither time was it pleasant for you. You don’t exactly mind the thought now, though.

        “I can’t stand it here,” you start, flaring your nostrils at the castle. 

        “Well, we can help you!” Bokuto blurts out, grabbing your hands and squeezing them encouragingly. Your heart stutters at his grip, but speeds up at the offer.

        “Really? You can get me out of here?”

        “Definitely!” 

        “Yes,” Akaashi nods. 

        “Oh, thank you!” You wrap one arm around each boy’s neck and tug them in for a group hug. It doesn’t take long before you grow addicted to their comforting warmth. You pull back reluctantly and look into their eyes. “So where are we going?”

        “Not gonna lie, that sounds like something my dumbass would do with two hot guys. Just yank them into a hug on the spot.”

        “You can still do that, you know. Even better if you let us kiss you. I don’t know about Akaashi, but I wouldn’t mind-”

        “S-shut up!”

        After you escaped, the fragile balance of peace between all creatures crumbled, and Kuroo went mad without his queen. Many species perished under his reign, and became extinct as a result. In the small number of villages that remained, he had posters hung with your drawn face and an offer of a hefty reward for any information of your whereabouts.

        It took them twelve years to find you. 

        “Akaashi, I’m going to go pick some berries.” You cinched your riding pants just past your hips and tucked a leather pouch into a belt loop. Arms slithered around your waist and pulled you backwards into a familiar body.

        “Okay, be careful. And can you tell Bokuto to come inside? He’s gonna get hypothermia if he stays in the lake any longer.” He presses small kisses up your neck, brushing over the bruises from the night before. 

        “Sure,” you turn your head back and peck his lips for just a second before smiling at him. “You’re handling dinner, though, right? I’m not choking down another crispy rabbit of his, no matter how much I love him.”

        Akaashi chuckles and shakes his head, squeezing your hips slightly. “Yes, I’m making dinner.” 

        “Good,” you snicker, pecking his cheek one more time before exiting the small cottage. You all had built the house with your bare hands, and every time you saw it, you beamed with pride. It took years to build the walls, but only your love combined made it a true home.

        Birds chirp in the sky high trees around you and you kick a couple pine cones on your way to the lake. You can hear him before you see him, and you hop over your miniature garden of roses to get closer to the sounds of splashes. 

        “Darling, look!” Bokuto doesn’t even have to spot you before waving an innocent salmon around victoriously. They’ve both grown hypersensitive to your presence, and it never takes long before you capture their attention nowadays. “Look what I snagged!” He’s floating in the middle of the water, grinning like no tomorrow while the poor fish wiggles frantically in his hand.  

        You stand beside his forgotten clothes and flash him a thumbs up, chuckling under your breath at the sight. “Nice catch, Kou. But Akaashi says you gotta get out now.” 

        “Aww, but why?” he pouts, glancing at his new friend before returning his disappointed gaze to you.

        “Because you might get sick and-”

        Oh no. 

        A pointed object rips through your back to the front of your chest, blood dripping from the tip. Knees wobbling, you can only whimper at the sight.

        An arrow. Slowly, you turn to find your attacker and spot a knight in the distance, lowering his bow. On his metal chestplate, he bore the symbol of the Werecats.

        “YN?!” Bokuto shouts, diving into the water and appearing at your side in under a second, catching you before you fall back. “YN!” he cries out in a broken sob.

        It hurts to breathe. It hurts to move. It hurts to speak. Your heart… oh God, you heart was pierced through completely. Nothing… not a fucking thing could save you. 

        “AKAASHI!” Bokuto calls out, cradling you in his arms and collapsing to his knees. A liquid more metallic than copper dribbles out from the corner of your mouth. Blood. It clogs your throat and your ears and your eyes. 

        You were going to die. 

        Oh God, you were going to die!

        Someone kneels on the ground beside you, and you can barely open your eyelids enough to see them. But their presence doesn’t require vision to be noticed.

        “Akaashi,” you wheeze with a slur. More blood gushes from your mouth at the taxing action. 

        “Oh God, no, please! YN, my love, stay awake!” Your hands quiver as you reach up to touch both of their damp faces. They lean into your touch instinctively, peering down at you with their foreheads just a hair’s length away from each other. Their emotions were painted on their faces like mirrors. 

        Fear. Pure, unadulterated fear.

        You were going to die.

        “Bokuto-” 

        “Don’t speak! Please, just don’t speak, you’ll be fine!” It was the first time Akaashi had ever lied to you. And it was the last. 

        The wizard’s palms glowed a dark maroon as he held them just over your heart. Bokuto tucked his face into your neck and sobbed, wails ripping their way out of his throat as he clenched his eyes shut. 

        “I love you both so much,” you whispered, pressing a bloody kiss to Bokuto’s scalp.

        “No YN!” Akaashi bit his lower lip furiously, clenching his fists before trying again, creating another aura of red around your wound. 

        “I’m not gonna make it…” Your breathing slowed and your eyes grew dim. You were so tired, so exhausted, so in pain. A nice, long nap sounded… so nice. 

        “NO! YOU’RE NOT LEAVING US!” Akaashi screamed, clenching his eyes closed and holding his hands higher above your chest before slowly dragging them up and down as he whispered words in an ancient language. 

        A spell. He was casting a spell. Or a curse.

        As you took your last breath, a puff of air fell from your lips akin to a wisp of smoke. The wizard watched in horror and amazement as the wave of fog disappeared through the forest, in the shape of a human body.

        “Find me,” it had echoed. Bokuto hadn’t raised his head once, only whimpering against your neck as his tears watered the earth. 

        “She’s gone,” he choked out. He grasped your hand and ran his chewed-raw lips over each finger. “She’s gone forever.”

        “No,” Akaashi shook his head, slowly rubbing a thumb against your cheek. He made sure that would never happen. A wave of tears at last crashed through his sturdy walls, and he softly smiled down at you as they carved salty trails down his cheeks. “She’s not.”

                                ~~~

        You raised your brows at the wizard and pursed your lips.

        “So… let me get this straight.” 

        Bokuto’s eyes were closed on your lap, but you knew he wasn’t sleeping on account of the single tear that escaped the corner of his eye. You still brushed your fingers through his hair comfortingly, but just a tad slower now. You still… well, you still had some disbeliefs.

        Akaashi nodded at you to continue, but his eyes were locked on your balcony door like he had been watching the memories as a movie. 

        “You cursed her as she died?”

        “As you died, yes.”

        “And then she-...” you gulped anxiously, “I get reincarnated every century?”

        “Yes.” 

        “Hmm.” You nod and twitch your cheek while pulling your hands away from Bokuto’s scalp. “So you wacknuts think I’m this girl’s reincarnate.”

        “We know you are.” Akaashi swivels his head to face you. His blue eyes, though teary, burn straight through your soul. Not a single doubt is found in his face. 

        “... You’re fucking crazy,” you mumble, avoiding his gaze.

        “Excuse me?”

        With sympathetic eyes, you huff a small sigh. “Look guys, I’m not some vampire queen, I’m not your mate, I-I’m not even a straight A student!” Akaashi stands and moves to sit by your side. With great effort, you try not to flinch away from his tight grasp on your hand while he gives you a pleading look.

        “YN please.” 

        “Akaashi, come on!” You wrinkle your forehead and bite your lip. “I’m not the girl you’re looking for. I’m sorry.”

        His nostrils flare and he releases your hand with a spasming jaw. Bokuto sits up from your lap, pressing one hand outside of your thigh. Akaashi catches on and mocks the position on your other side. 

        “Look into our eyes and tell us that you don’t even feel the smallest inkling that you’re meant to be with us.” It’s the first time you’ve seen Bokuto so dead serious. His gaze is unwavering as he stares deeply into your eyes, a hypnotizing shade of gold while Akaashi does the same. 

        “... I can’t do that.”

        “Ah hah! Because we are your mates!” The vampire grins victoriously.

        “No! It’s because I can’t go reverse cross-eyed!” The smallest ounce of hesitation still swims inside you because… can this really all be real? Two highly attractive men have kidnapped you, and say that they want to be with you for the rest of their immortal lives. Oh, and you supposedly rule all vampires as a queen. Yeah, no shit you still have doubts. Though there is a small place in your heart for them for them, you don’t want to give them false hope. 

        “...You can’t?” Bokuto asks, then proceeds to attempt his request and fails miserably. Shaking your head, you disguise a giggle behind your hand. Although, you still had one small question rattling around in the back of your brain.

        “So,” your confused voice captures their attention instantly as both heads turn to you, “you’ve kidnapped, like, five other me’s?” 

        “Six, but yes,” Bokuto shrugs.

        “And they’ve all been okay with it?” 

        “Well, usually we take more time to become acquainted with you, but Bokuto got antsy,” Akaashi mumbles with a flicker of judgment on his face. 

        “Why?”

        “That fucking, smug-ass cat! He found you after eight-hundred Goddamn years!”

        “Oh” is all you can say. Your attention travels down to your hands as you twiddle your thumbs nervously, but a sight makes you pause and go rigid. 

        The spiral, just as Akaashi described it, sits as three interconnected swirls on the center of your wrist. It hadn’t been there before; not until now, when Bokuto quickly snatches up your forearm and gasps at the sight.

        “Thank God, I was worried it wouldn't show up for months yet!” he cheers, tracing over the symbol like a nervous habit. The contact leaves the hairs on the back of your neck standing at attention, and you bite your tongue harshly to stay silent. Akaashi’s mouth curved up into a smile, and he carefully drew his eyes up to yours, giving you a nod.

        “Yes, I’m glad it’s shown up as well, but Bokuto, let’s give YN some time to think, yeah?”

        The vampire whines at the thought and reluctantly releases your arm, rising off the bed and finally giving you enough room to breathe. Akaashi copies his act, but not before brushing your thigh with his fingertips, and leads the way out of your bedroom. 

        While you did need time to think, you knew that the amount provided would be significantly low thanks to Bokuto’s new nightly habits. With a small, inaudible curse, you hastily scramble off your mattress and snag his wrist just before he disappears into the hall with the wizard. 

        “Bokuto, wait.” He turns back to you in confusion, but a lopsided grin crawls onto his face. The action almost makes you blush, but before you can berate yourself for even thinking of the idea, you allow your mouth to run. “If you’re just gonna come in later and wake me up like usual, why don’t you just stay now?” With a small shrug at the end, you mentally praise yourself for sounding so casual. Bokuto’s response is quite the mind boggler, though. 

        First, his brows raise and he scratches his head at your words. Then he asks, “What are you talking about?”

        What? “C’mon, you know! Like when you crawl into my bed and wrap around me like a koala every night. Just stay here now so I don’t have to wake up, I really don’t mind.”

        “Umm, YN, the only times I’ve ever done that was this morning and a couple days ago when Akaashi was already in here.”

        “...Oh.”

        Huh.

                                ~~~

        The nights always seem to be cold before he climbs into your bed, and now is no different.

        As you shiver and burrow under your cozy comforter even more, the door to your bedroom slowly creaks open, then closes just as quietly. Tiptoed steps trail all the way to the edge of your mattress, and the tulle curtain shifts aside to allow him entrance. Your back always faces the door, so he slips under the covers behind you without an ounce of visibility on your part. 

        His long arms are just the tiniest bit slimmer than his companion’s as they wrap around your waist and pull you into his solid chest, but he’s just as warm. While he settles in behind you, intertwining his cooler legs with your own and resting a knee between your thighs, you hum tiredly and tip your head back under his chin.

        “Mmm, goodnight Akaashi.”

        He tenses behind you and his arms tighten around your hips while you hear a pause in his breathing. The wizard laughs noiselessly at being caught red-handed and snuggles his face into your hair, pressing a kiss to your rose-scented scalp. 

        “Goodnight, my love.”

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Reborn (Bokuto/Akaashi x Reader) ~Chapter 2~

(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: Here’s another part (finally:)) Lowkey proud of this mf. My god, I’m so happy y’all like this series, and I seriously hope you enjoy this part!

Tag List: @burntcilantro​  @alloverbutterflies​  @translucentthoughts​  @zaejia​  @momothepeachgirl <-this tag doesn’t work😔 @black-veil-chemicalz​  @miigoth​  

Word count: 6200

        “Let me go.”

        “No.”

        “Let me go.”

        “No.”

        You had been stuck in that damned cage for two weeks now. The blood red walls of the room closed in on you more and more every day, and the only sources of light you could treasure came through the window and played on the television outside of your cell. Since they had captured you, they fed you every morning, midday and night, on a schedule no different from a zoo animal. You no longer held the fuzzy feelings for them that you’d had before they kidnapped you, but for some reason you couldn’t hate them. Besides, they haven’t hurt you yet, so it wasn’t likely they ever would. 

        “Let me go.” Akaashi sighed and threw you a dirty look while locking your cage. 

        “Dear God YN, for the last time, we’re not letting you out!” His calm voice never raised more than necessary, but the heightened brow he gave you spoke enough of a threat. Never gonna happen. 

        After tucking the key into his pocket, he tugged on the bars to test if it was actually locked before taking a seat on the new, leather addition to the living room they trapped you in. You figured since your makeshift bed was made of the cushions from the old couch, they kind of had to adjust to the room’s new centerpiece. You. Anyways, Akaashi had just returned you from a bathroom break he and Bokuto would occasionally allow you. It was a minuscule amount of freedom you got to be away from their sight, but it was limited to five minutes each, excluding emergencies. 

        “Geez, Mr. Grumpypants. I just asked a little question.” He narrowed his blue eyes at you and you sneered back.

        If they were going to drive you crazy, you would do the same. 

        The only thing keeping you from truly going insane was the TV you could never reach. It wasn’t much for size, but it drawled peacefully with the news channel. It was the only way you could see the outside world, other than the room’s window, which only showed a forest anyway. You figured you were in the life-sucking, second-floor living room of some well-kept but forgotten mansion.

        Nothing decorated the maroon walls aside from one wilted, framed painting. It was dusty and wrinkled, but held three figures: you and your kidnappers. Dressed in an elegant, royal purple ball gown, you sat in what appeared to be a throne while each man stood behind your bare shoulders, Akaashi on the left and Bokuto on the right. The former wore his signature frown while his erratic companion had a wild grin. You, on the other hand, only smirked, but something akin to pure joy gleamed in your eyes. Maybe it was the lighting. 

        You constantly reamed the freakshows for getting a professional painting done of you and them in love, but they always dismissed the topic, saying it was “for another time.”

        Like hell it was. 

        “Hey dumbass,” you suddenly piped up, dropping cross-legged onto your “bed” and leaning back against the bars to relax. Akaashi only hummed in response, but his eyes had been on you the whole time you were deep in thought. “How did you douche canoes get a picture like that?” Your insults grew worse the more you stayed in captivity. 

        “You’ll find out soon, my love.”

        “Oh come on, how long is ‘soon’?”

        “Soon.” You roll your eyes. 

        “All right then. Can I be let out soon?” A muscle in his jaw twitches at the question while his eyes slowly narrow at you, leading you to throw in the towel. 

        “Fine, fine,” you rush out, avoiding his burning gaze. “Can I at least take a bath? I smell like century-old roadkill.” You sniff instinctively at your words and immediately regret the action. 

        Akaashi, however, seems to adore your idea. 

        “Oh, my YN,” he coos, standing and approaching your cell with a rare show of deviousness glinting in his eyes. “We would love to bathe you.” 

        You blanch and gulp at the suggestion, nostrils flaring. 

        “On second thought, I think I’ll keep stewing.” 

        Akaashi hums and draws closer to the bars, leaning against them with a smirk. “Are you sure, YN?” The way he says your name makes your heart skip a beat, the low murmur barely audible from your place on the ground.

        “Positive,” you snarl, remembering that now matter how attractive the man before you was, he was also your kidnapper. After you open your mouth to spout another retort, Akaashi suddenly pulls back just as Bokuto barges into the room, hands loaded with a tray of food. 

        “My love! I made you breakfas-” His ecstatic smile drops in an instant. As soon as his eyes lock on you, they change. Their color shifts from his normal gold to an intimidating red. Blood red. The sight wasn’t familiar, but it struck fear into your heart like no other, and you couldn’t help but tremble under his… depraved gaze. Something about it exuded desperation and hunger.

        You swallow nervously and his eyes dart to your throat, watching the act. A low rumble begins to echo through the bare room as Bokuto approaches you ever so slowly. The tense atmosphere of the room grows thicker as you wait for an attack, frozen in your position on the floor. 

        His lips peel back, and just as you catch a glimpse of his fangs glistening in the sun’s light, his body is thrown back out into the hall like a sack of flour, tugged by an invisible string. Akaashi levitates your breakfast tray in midair with one hand while he waves the other, causing the door to close with a slam. With a flicker of his fingers, the lock clicks and your food carefully lowers to the floor, sliding under the cell’s iron bars with practiced ease. 

        “Ignore that,” he mutters, blue eyes still trained on the entryway with a hidden display of disease. You struggle to follow his orders blindly, still shaken by whatever the hell had just happened. 

        Deep in thought, you carefully tear off small bits of the cinnamon roll Bokuto had made, chewing on the sugary goodness with chattering teeth. You were too frightened to even focus on the flavor, even though it was by far your most favorite prison food. Finally, you submit to your curiosity. 

        “Hey.” No response.

        “Hey!” Ignored.

        “Hey Akaashi!” Nothing. For two minutes you try to grab his attention, yelling his name and obnoxiously clanging against the bars with your fork, but nothing happens. Try me, buddy.

        The only source of protein Bokuto had provided for today’s breakfast was a hard-boiled egg rocking back and forth on your metal tray thanks to your frantic movements. You don’t hesitate to grab it and chuck it at Akaashi’s head. 

        Mission failed. We’ll get ‘em next time. 

        Your evil professor from two weeks ago throws up a measly hand and suddenly the egg hits an invisible wall. It falls to the hardwood floor with a dull thump while he rolls his eyes at you. 

        “Seriously?”

        “Oh c’mon Akaashi!” you gesture to the door with a nod of your head. “What the hell was that?”

        “I said ignore it,” he hisses through clenched teeth. The raven-haired man exits the room with a bang, leaving you to collapse back onto your bed and try to fall asleep again. Nothing worked though. Bokuto’s glowing scarlet eyes were burned into your retinas, and you highly doubted you would be getting good rest any time soon.

        “What the hell was that?” you repeat under your breath. 

                                ~~~

        More time passes, and you don’t even have the energy anymore to count the sunrises. You haven’t seen Bokuto in a while, but guessed that was mostly the last encounter’s doing. Hate no longer encompasses your brain when you see or think of them, although all of your feelings have grown dull at this point. You haven’t felt excitement, rage, worry, or happiness in too long. You couldn’t even force a glare anymore. Sitting in an empty cage, surrounded by nothing and no one was really getting to you. Scientists were right when they said humans were social creatures. You were dying, slowly from the inside-out. 

        Your hair felt greasy and dead. Your cheeks felt sunken and sullen. The only thing you could do in captivity was lie down and sleep. So you did. 

        You sat with your head propped up on your elbow, boredly watching the day's weather forecast instead of searching directly outside the window at it. It was sunny and hot, just like always, and yet you couldn’t even feel it. 

        A loud groan of pain outside the door causes you to jump. 

        “I can’t control it, Akaashi!” Another agonized grunt. “I need her! Your potions aren’t working anymore!” The hall is silent for a second, presumably thanks to Akaashi’s quieter tone. Then Bokuto speaks once more. “No, her scent is too much! I can’t!”

        Nothing happens for a solid ten minutes. There was a clock on the news channel, and you’d been checking it once every few seconds in between watching the door leading to the hall. Absolute silence for ten minutes after that shocking outburst. 

        Without warning, the entrance to your room blasts open and a table chock-full of colorful glass bottles and bubbling chemistry equipment floats in, one foot off the ground. A small bookcase follows, only containing titles in a foreign language that, you were pretty sure, was ancient and dead. At last, Akaashi trails in as the caboose to the furniture express, his arms raised in the air and pointed at the newest additions to the fun room. 

        “What’s going on?” You push off the ground and clasp the bars of your cell, leaning as close as you can to watch Akaashi perform his magic. With squinted eyes, he gently sets the floating furnishings on the floor, pushing them against the wall before snapping his fingers and producing a spinny chair in front of the table. 

        “Bokuto’s going wild, and I need to keep an eye on you from now on while I work.” He doesn’t dare make eye contact with you, and instead focuses on transporting in a new cabinet from the hall, carefully placing it between the books and the desk. Its shelves are filled to the brim with labeled jars and locked boxes, some glowing and some creating curious clouds of fog. 

        “Why?” you ask restlessly, gripping the iron tighter. “What’s wrong with him?” 

        At the question, Akaashi halts his movements and hesitantly turns back to you. His blue orbs drop to your neck before flicking back up to your face. “He’s keeping his promise.” 

        His promise? His promise?! What promise? You dig through your memories of every time you’ve ever interacted with Bokuto, and there was only one promise you could think of. 

        “Next time, I promise I’ll wait until you let me!” 

        It was after you found out he had bitten you. After you found out he had drank your blood. 

        Is that really what caused this? His whines out in the hall had been disturbingly pained, and every word he spoke had sounded forced through bare teeth. 

        Suddenly, his red eyes from a few mornings ago made a lot more sense. 

        He was thirsty, and you were the only juice pouch he wanted. 

        “Akaashi,” you shift on your feet and rub the back of your neck awkwardly. “Why doesn’t Bokuto just… umm…” you trail off, not exactly sure how to phrase it without sounding insane. From inside your cage. Where you had been locked in by a vampire and a wizard. Maybe you should just quit trying to sound sane from now on; it was quickly becoming a useless habit of yours.

        “Yes?” His back is still to you, but he turns his head in effort to show he’s listening while he fumbles with radiant tonics at his new work station.

        “Why doesn’t he just, like, drink from another person?” 

        The black-haired man’s posture goes rigid, and his head slowly raises to face the wall in front of him. The bottled liquids are left forgotten on the desk while he grips its edges with white knuckles. A bitter chuckle leaves him, and it shakes you to the core.

        “Oh, my love, you have so much to learn.” 

        “Do I?”

        “Yes,” he smirks. “For now, just know that the only one he willingly drinks blood from is you, and you alone.”

        The thought makes you nauseous. You hadn’t even been conscious the first time, but you already know you don’t look forward to another blood-sucking experience. “Wonderful,” you mutter bitterly, folding your arms and stepping away from the bars. 

        You don’t speak for the next hour, only watching Akaashi work with wide eyes. Every few minutes, a puff of steam or a crackle of sparks would arise from his movements. As if on repeat, he constantly switched between trailing his finger over a page of an open book, shaking random glass bottles until they had a reaction, and plucking various jarred items off the shelves to add to his mysterious concoctions. As someone who had never believed in magic or storybooks, you were mystified. 

        “Hey Akaashi?” you piped up, eyes still locked on his hand’s twirling motions as he read from the book. 

        “Yes, my love?” You still kind of hated that nickname, but in a way it was growing on you. 

        “Can I do some of that... stuff?” 

        “Absolutely not,” he responded in the same, domestic tone. 

        “Oh come on, I’m dying in here, bro!” 

        “Well, bro,” he spat out, obviously not a fan of your own name-calling, “it’s even more deadly out here. You can’t touch any of this stuff unless you want to lose your eyesight.” 

        “Well, I’d have to look at you less, so maybe it’s worth a shot, hmm?” 

        He doesn’t answer, instead choosing to let out a deep sigh and roll his shoulders back. You weren’t done, though, and decided to complain until his ears bled. 

        “Oh my God, I’m so bored.” Zero acknowledgement from your pal, but no matter. 

        “Akaashi, my dude, I’m like really bored in here.” You tap your nails against the metal lockspace, causing annoying little clinks to reverberate around the room. 

        “I’m not your ‘dude,’” he whispers, so faint you can barely hear it. 

        “My dude! I’m really bored. I could literally die of boredom right here, right now. You wanna know how bored I am?-”

        “No.”

        “-I’m so bored I could-”

        “My love!” he barks, spinning to face you with a glare. “Do you mind?” While his eye twitches and his teeth gnaw, you only shrug your shoulders with pursed lips.

        “No, not really. You’re fine.”

        Akaashi’s deep blue eyes observe you in annoyance and he finally gives in, stomping close enough that you can see each one of his long lashes. “What. Do. You. Want.” 

        “To do something, Akaashi!” You throw your arms in the air exasperatedly and spin around. “Do you know how much it sucks to be in here?” His face darkens with guilt as you give him a pleading look. “Please,” you fold your hands and pout, “please just let me do something, anything.” 

        Ashamed, Akaashi brushes a hand through his hair and bites his lip, trying to come up with an idea that won’t require you to leave the cage. At last, his gaze brightens and he snaps his fingers.

        Something crashes to the floor behind you. You spin around and gawk at the sight. 

        “Books?!”

        “Go nuts, my love.” 

        I’ll try.

                                ~~~

        “What’s the difference between eggshell white and white white?” You furrow your brows and squint at the phrase in the novel.

        “Eggshell is softer.” 

        “Really?!” Your eyes widen in excitement and you begin to wiggle on your blanket pile. “Wow, that’s so amazing! God, aren’t words just so interesting Akaashi?”

        “Are you being serious?”

        “Fuck no.” The grin drops off your face and you toss the book back behind you. Good news: Akaashi had given you a bookshelf. Bad news: every single one so far had been mind-numbingly dull. Or maybe it was the atmosphere. 

        Life seemed to be just a little more stale each day you sat in that room without Bokuto’s interrupting presence. You missed the times when he would barge in with a “Hey hey hey!” and slide your food into the cell before plopping down cross-legged and telling you stories. It didn’t matter what they were about. Sometimes it was about a dog he got to pet at the grocery store. Other times it was a bird he saw while running around in the forest. It wasn’t until now that you realized how much you actually missed him. You legitimately missed your owlish kidnapper, who had bitten you without consent.

        Somewhere deep in your mind, you guessed he was still just the same old diner customer who occupied most of your shift, then made up for it with a generous tip. But maybe, just maybe you saw him as more than that.

        “Akaashi,” you sigh, rolling over onto your stomach and resting your chin on your folded arms, “is Bokuto okay?” 

        He doesn’t respond for a minute, and the air in the room grows a bit harder to breathe. “I don’t really know, YN.” His answer, at last, isn’t exactly what you wanted to hear, but neither was the agonized roar that followed. 

        “AAHH!” 

        You scramble to your feet while Akaashi drops a glass in surprise. The glowing liquid splatters everywhere, but he pays it no mind even as it sizzles against the hardwood.

        “What the hell was that?” you whisper in terror, wide eyes watching him for an explanation. The shake of his head along with a shrug didn’t exactly comfort you. 

        Abruptly, another howl of pain cuts through the air, breaking the nervous tension like a knife. Then a scream sounds. Bangs and cracks rumble the floor beneath your feet as Bokuto, or what you assume is Bokuto, cries out in absolute torment. 

        You flinch every time he makes a noise, and frantically reach for Akaashi when he begins to walk towards the door. 

        “Akaashi, no-” He silences you with a finger against his lips and nods reassuringly before cracking open the door and disappearing into the hall, locking it in his wake. 

        One minute passes. More screams, but nothing worse.

        Two minutes. 

        Three. 

        Four. 

        On the fifth minute, or the three hundred seconds that you had counted Mississippi-lessly, Akaashi crashes back into the room with wide, panicked eyes, slamming the door behind him. 

        He sprints towards your cell with a heaving chest and waves his hand, causing the bars to fly open. Your heart rate speeds up at the sight. I’m free.

        “We have to go,” he sputters, grabbing your hand and tugging you out of the cage. His fingers clench your own so tightly, and his palms are clammy and twitching as he drags you out of the room. 

        The halls are dark, but colored the same maroon as the walls of your cage-area. You barely have enough time to comprehend all the tapestries you pass, every vase and statue and stained glass transforming into a blur as Akaashi speeds up his longer stride. Your legs burn as you try to keep up with him, and your heart races in excitement. 

        I’m free.

        Every twist and turn he leads you through gives you whiplash, and you only now know that you’ve been living in a friggin’ labyrinth for the past month or so. Each corridor has a window, and each window displays the full moon outside. It’s the only light that shows Akaashi the path he needs to take. 

        Your arm begins to ache from his straining grip, keeping it constantly extended as he flies ahead of you in a dead sprint. The burn only lessens when Akaashi slows to a stop in a large foyer. Two staircases lead down to one main entrance of the mansion. 

        I’m free. 

        You’re so close you can practically taste it. And finally, your blood rushing in and out of your eardrums, becoming so quiet that you can finally hear it. A low growl coming from the hallway just behind you. 

        “Come on,” Akaashi shouts to you, snatching your hand once again and trailing you down the steps of the right staircase in a mad rush. He pulls you out the main entrance and slams the two large doors closed behind him. The lion-faced metal door knockers clang loudly as it shuts, and Akaashi mumbles foreign words under his breath while releasing his grip on you, waving two blue, glowing hands over the crease of the doorway.  

        What was the strongest bone in the body again? 

        “This should give us enough time to escape. Then we’ll figure out how to fix him once we’re far enough away,” Akaashi chokes out, gulping down air while he watches the mansion’s entrance warily. 

        “Oh, good.” In a split second, you throw your elbow into Akaashi’s forehead, effectively knocking him unconscious. “Guess I’m still a little pissed off about being locked up though, dickhead.” You deliver a swift kick to the side of his body while leering over him with a smirk. Then you swivel back and observe your escape routes. 

        There was option one, which was a paved path that presumably led to the real world once more. Both Bokuto and Akaashi, when he woke up, would easily spot you running down this trail. 

        Or there was option two, which was the dense forest that you could barely see from the large patio of the mansion. It would be less easy to find you or track your scent, but you would have to travel slower on account of not tripping and being wary of wild animals. 

        You decided to take your chances and tore cheek towards the forest. Your legs were about to give out thanks to the marathon inside the house, so the only thing fueling you right now was pure adrenaline. You had done many amazing things with adrenaline, so you figured it could help you out now too. 

        Every rock and twig on the forest floor seemed to be out to trip you, so you attempted to hop over them with all the grace you could muster. What you hope looked like an elegant gazelle galloping on the great plains actually appeared to be a newborn giraffe bumbling around on spare strands of hay. You twisted your ankles like twenty times, but the pain only drove you harder. 

        I can make it!

        I can make it!

        I can make it!

        Wind whipped past your face and blew your hair into your mouth, but you had to settle for choking on it because every time you spit it out, it thwapped right back into your eyes. Your lungs pleaded for a break while your knees began to wobble, and the time you finally decided to give in to their whining was about the time you tripped over a fallen log and face-planted directly adjacent to a pile of what you prayed wasn’t any sort of excrement. 

        I can’t make it.

        “Fuck,” you wheeze, wiping the dirt and hair off your face before butt-scooching to lean back against a tree. Tenderly, you rub your ankles and try not to cry out at the pain. Tears stung your eyes while your muscles throbbed with soreness. Your heartbeat was tangible even in the palms of your hands. Every little thing that could hurt in your body did hurt. Places you didn’t even know existed twinged every few seconds, and you couldn’t help but rue the day you quit the gym. 

        “Shit,” you whimper quietly, biting your lip as wetness begins to pain your cheeks. How were you even supposed to return to real life normally after this? After being kidnapped by your teacher and a man who knows where you worked? Would the cops put you in the Witness Protection program? Would you ever get to see your family again? Most importantly: would you even make it out of these woods alive?

        The low growls that slow began to resound around you certainly increased the severity of that question. Your breathing hitched as you spotted something, or some things, about thirty feet away from you. Mountain lions, but twice as big, and of different colors. And from the sound of it, they were also behind you as well. 

        As a pack, they circled you, and ever so slowly, they creeped closer and closer. The one directly in front of you was nearest, and you cowered away with silent snivels of fear. It appeared to lead the group with every step it took, with its massive, black paws pressing soundlessly against the forest floor. It was barely visible thanks to its fur color, which was as dark as the night sky. It was by far the largest of them all, none of the others in your line of sight even came close. 

        As you hugged your knees to your chest and dug your back into the tree behind you, the leader loomed nearer. Finally, it was practically two feet from you, and sniffed you curiously while the others stayed perched and ready to attack. Then you got the weirdest feeling from it, like the wild feline was smirking at you. 

        What the hell? You furrow your brows and stabbed your nails into your legs, trying to stop yourself from making anymore sounds. Even the smallest reaction on your part might cause them to attack. But then a surprised mewl sounded behind you, followed by a whimper. Then another, then another until you realized that something… or maybe someone was picking them off one by one. 

        The leader in front of you huffed out a warm breath that hit you in the face as it snarled. This caused you to cry out in instinctive fear, and a loud growl echoed in response. 

        A flash of white latched onto the flank of the wild cat beside the leader, who whipped around with a hiss and a swipe of its meaty paw. The tackled feline went flying behind its attacker, then its friend was tossed away with inhuman strength as well before all that remained was the black cat in front of you. The pained mewls of the rest of the pack finally died out, and the leader whipped his tail up into a frenzy as he charged the glob of white you squinted to see. 

        Screeches, growls and grunts arose as one large clamor while you clenched your eyes closed and prayed that you would make it out alive. Large thuds and smacks were audible before it all stopped in a dead silence. You heard the telltale thumps of multiple felines fleeing the scene, and hesitantly opened your eyes to see flashes of black, orange and white all fade into the distance of the dark forest directly behind the white creature in front of you.

        The only thing you could hear was the wind whistling and the heavy panting of the animal in front of you. The woods were so dark, but in an instant, two glowing red orbs were visible on it. On him. 

        “Bokuto,” you mutter under your breath. He growls deeply in response, carefully padding closer on bare feet to you. He was covered in the tatters of a black and white t-shirt and basketball shorts. His wild hair was in disarray, and you found small, bloody scratches here and there on his body, which grew smaller and smaller by the second until they healed over as smooth skin. 

        “YN,” he grumbled tightly, dropping to his knees and slowly surveying you up and down for any damage. With clenched fists at his sides, he leered over your body, breathing heavily while his eyes finally found home on your neck. Deep in his burning eyes, you saw two conflicting emotions: hunger and shame. His lips peel back to reveal two sharpened fangs, glinting in the moonlight. You can’t help but whimper at the sight and recoil, letting out a shaky breath when he stops at the noise. 

        “YN,” he repeats, his voice needy and guilty all at the same time. His hand slowly unfurls from his side and weakly brushes a hair out of your face. You wince at the feeling of his touch and he cringes at your reaction. “YN, I-” Bokuto rears back with a whine and bites his lip, easily drawing blood with his tooth-like daggers. 

        “AKAASHI!” he suddenly shouts, red eyes flaring as he avoids your gaze. The abruptness scares the life out of you for the last time, and your brain decides it needs a break from all the recent excitement. Bokuto calls out for his partner in crime once more as your vision goes fuzzy, and with an involuntary sigh of relief, you pass out against the rough tree behind you.

                                ~~~

        “Here, my love, drink this.” Akaashi settles onto the couch beside you and hands you a cup of tea with his own magical kick. You’re finally in a new room, no more cage even though you KOed one of your captors. It has a four-poster, royal purple bed with see-through tulle hanging down around it like a protective curtain. There’s a television directly across from it, sitting on top of and in between bookshelves, stacked with stories much more interesting with the ones Akaashi had previously provided. Instead of your old window, you now have a glass sliding door leading to a balcony, which has a staircase down into a gated off garden, chock-full of every kind of flower imaginable. 

        There’s a closet filled to the brim with clothing from all different centuries, most of which you refuse to wear. And last but not least, there’s a couch right next to your private bathroom, upon which both you and Akaashi are sitting. 

        “Thank you,” you mumble, accepting it with a soft smile and reveling in the warmth it provides for your fingers. 

        After you fell unconscious deep in the forest in front of the mansion, Bokuto had Akaashi carry you home to get some much-needed rest. When you awoke, the black-haired male helped you get undressed and into a bath, and you were too worn and traumatized to care if he saw you in the nude. 

        “I’ve seen it all before anyways, my love,” he had said. You didn’t bother to ask for more information, too wrapped up in releasing the tension of every muscle in your body. 

        And now, he served you a tea like a good little butler, while you sat wrapped in a warm blanket in your new cage. It was much cozier than the last one, you had to admit. 

        “Is Bokuto okay?” you whisper, still staring into your cup of tea while biting your lip. Akaashi’s arm around your shoulder tensed for just a second, then relaxed as he pulled you closer. You give in, enjoying some form of comfort after last night’s events. 

        “He’s seen you. And I don’t know if that’s made him better off or worse.”

        “Can I see him?” Your question causes Akaashi to shift in his seat, facing you with wide eyes and a blanched face. 

        “YN, he might hurt you.”

        “That’s okay.” 

        “Excuse me?” He raises a brow and gently grasps your chin in his hand, turning you to face him seriously. 

        “Let me see him.” Akaashi shakes his head.

        “YN, he’ll-”

        “I don’t care,” you interrupt more forcefully this time. “Let me see him. I just wanna say thank you.” Akaashi licks his lips nervously and clenches his eyes closed in contemplation. 

        “All right, fine. I’ll go find him. But don’t say I didn’t tell you so.” Your lips quirk up at his fold, and you grab his hand just after he stands. 

        “Thank you.” Your eyes sparkle in the lightning, and you’re not sure but you’re also almost damn positive Akaashi just blushed. 

        “Just be careful,” he grumbles, squeezing your hand before pulling away and leaving the room. 

        About half an hour passes, and after a pat on the back for your personal ability to assume how much time has passed, the door to your new bedroom opens just a hair. 

        “YN?” Bokuto whispers through the crack. “Akaashi said you wanted to talk.”

        “I do. Please come in.”

        “I-I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

        “Please just come in.” Your beg works, and Bokuto hesitantly pushes his way inside, closing the door softly behind him. He hasn’t opened his eyes once since he entered, and you smile softly at the sight. Silent as a mouse, you rise up off the couch and slowly approach him. 

        “Y-YN-”

        “Bokuto, look, I know what’s happening to you,” you pause and wrinkle your forehead. “Well, I kinda know what you’re going through. But you helped me through all of it, and you didn’t hurt me even once. Thank you.” You cup his face gently and he inhales deeply at the affection. 

        “Can I see your eyes now?” you ask carefully. His hands trail up your sides and over your arms, all the way up to your own as he cups them closer to his cheeks. 

        “YN, I don’t wanna hurt you.” 

        “Bokuto, I trust you now.” You trail your thumbs up just under his eyelashes before returning them down to the apples of his cheeks. “Please, just let me help you.”

        After a long moment of silence, his eyelids flutter open, displaying beautiful golden orbs that shift to bright red in an instant. Bokuto swallows nervously and grips your hands tighter, his gaze constantly flickering down to your neck while a slow rumble starts to sound from deep in his chest. 

        “YN…” 

        “Come on,” you take a hand of his in your own and lead him to the couch, sitting and dragging him down next to you. Slowly, you release your grip and pull your hair back and away from your neck, tilting your head slightly to display what he needed. 

        “YN!” Bokuto growled, instinctively leaning closer before pulling back just as quickly. “I don’t wanna hurt you!” 

        “You won’t.” Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, and you wonder if he can hear it too. Without a second thought, you grab his hand once more and place it against your neck, cringing at the uncomfortable feeling already. Maybe I can’t do this. 

        “I can’t, YN. You need to know I can’t stop if I start.” 

        “You won’t kill me.”

        “Never,” he exclaims, scandalized at the thought. His hand twitches against your neck. “I just… I’m not sure if I can stop when you do feel it. God, I need it so bad, YN. I know I won’t stop.” You were ready for this like an hour ago, but now you’re beginning to feel doubts. That’s no bueno. 

        “Fuck, Bokuto, just get on with it already!” As fast as you can, you dig your hands into his hair and yank him down into your neck. 

        Your first thought was Oh, ouchie.

        Your second thought was OW FUCK, SON OF A BITCH!

        Apparently, he had a little less resolve than he knew, because that motherfucker dove right in like a rat on a Cheeto. As soon as his fangs pierced the delicate skin of your neck, you couldn’t even speak. It was like when a cat accidentally gets their claws caught in their owner’s skin, but instead of one small flinch of pain, it was hours, times like a hundred. 

        It was like getting your blood drawn, except by a human… ’s mouth. Yeah, no shit.

        It hurt, god it hurt so bad. The noises he made as he drank your blood, sucking it straight out of it’s most vital vein, were so vulgar they made you want to plug your ears. One hand of his was in your hair, not yanking harshly, but just gently leaning your head back while the other held you in place with his hand on your hip. 

        The constant stabbing feeling pulsed right through your whole nervous system with every gulp of his mouth. At first, you had attempted to thrash wildly against him, desperately trying to get away from the agonizing pain. Then, as your body and mind began to feel more tired, more drained, you could only bunch his shirt up tightly in your hands while you whimpered. 

        Every noise you made, Bokuto responded with a small groan or grunt, but his grip never let up, and eventually you couldn’t handle it. For the second time in a span of twenty-four hours or so, you submitted to your aching body and slumped in the vampire’s grip.

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Reborn (Bokuto/Akaashi x Reader) ~Chapter 1~

(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: This is gonna be a series if y’all want it, or it could die right here right now. Either way, I hope y’all like it!

Word count: 5771

        You were just as beautiful as when he had first met you eight centuries ago. The too-small apartment you bumbled around in was just outside the university’s campus so you could get to your early morning classes, and resided about two miles away from your horrible job so you could travel to work easily too. 

        Through your window, he could see you singing a tune shyly under your breath, still new enough to living in an apartment that you didn’t know whether your neighbors could hear you. The clangs from the dishes you placed into your cupboards hurt his ears, even though he was a few hundred feet away on another complex’s dusty rooftop. There was a gentle smile on your face that sped up his heart, and a lively glow in your eyes that made him hold back a giggle. Your skin looked so soft too-

        “What’s she doing?” A dull voice hummed behind the older, more energetic man. 

        “The dishes, just like every other Thursday,” he responded cheerfully, peeling his gaze away from the telescope and swiveling to his friend. “She’s putting away the knives.” 

        “She’s gonna hurt herself.”

        “No way,” the older shook his head, “she handles knives just as well as she has in her past lives.”         “Yeah, but this round she’s seriously clumsy. It gives me a headache.” The black-haired male shoulders past his companion to glance through the spyglass. He sighs at the event he witnesses. “There, see? She just cut herself.” 

        “Oh shit, let me see!” The erratic man pushes his aloof friend aside to watch you, scared you had been seriously injured. It doesn’t take long before the sight of you takes its effect, and he feels his canines piercing through his gums. You were bleeding.

        Inside your apartment, you hiss against your teeth while gingerly dabbing a tissue against the finger you had sliced open. Anxiously, he gulps before pulling away from the scope and turning to his friend. 

        “I guess we’ll just have to watch over her even more this time.”

        “No kidding.”

        Both men loved you. Both men needed you. And soon, both men would have you. 

                                ~~~

        University, you decided, was going to be a blast. You had a wonderful job at a little diner, many classes that interested you, and a cheap apartment that cost almost nothing compared to how wonderful the size and interior of it was. 

        There was only one small downside: everywhere you went, it felt like a pair of eyes was constantly watching you. While you did your homework, while you slept, while you traveled to class, it was terrifying. Someone was watching you; the only question was who? 

        “YN!” A voice frightens you out of your daze and you turn to find the voice. It’s Sakura, the only friend you’ve made since you’ve been on campus so far. Her long, black hair tumbles down her shoulders in wavy locks, and it brushes the waistline of her drastically-mini skirt. Most of her toned stomach is showing, but the neon orange crop top she’s wearing isn’t really doing her any favors. In a word, Sakura was… voluptuous, even though she stood about a petit four inches  below you. She certainly knew how to flaunt her assets, anyway. 

        You, on the other hand, accepted your collegiate fate instantly. Hiking your hefty backpack up higher on your shoulder, you tried not to feel like a potato sack standing across from her in your plain, maroon sweatshirt and black yoga pants. While she stood on the most popular Vans of this decade, checkered and all, you settled for your black and white Adidas, which were way past their prime. Your budget couldn’t afford it anyways, so there was no point in a comparison. 

        “Hey Sakura!” you waved shyly and tensed when she joined her arm with your own. “what’s up?” 

        “Oh nothing,” she rolled her eyes playfully before skipping on her feet beside you, “I’m just freaking out over getting to meet the new, hot teacher!” Squinting your eyes at the screech, you press your heels into the ground to stop her trek. Sakura glances back at you curiously.

        “New teacher?” Her jaw drops at you.

        “You didn’t know?!” You flinch at her high-pitched exclamation once more before shaking your head.

        “No…?”

        “Oh my God, YN!” she drawls and smacks your shoulder playfully, “you need to get in the loop around here! You’re a student too, you know.” 

        “Oh, trust me, I know.” You roll your eyes and let out a huff. “Now tell me more about this ‘hot teacher’ you’re so excited to meet.” She squeals with delight and latches onto your upper arm, dragging you inside the school’s main building. 

        It looks much more sleek on the inside than on the outside. While the exterior of the school was made from old, mossy bricks and had spire-like architectures to resemble a castle, the interior had pure white marble floors and walls covered in glass cases holding trophies. More awards than you ever thought existed lined the bright halls of the university, each adorned with a picture of a smiling alumni. Distantly, you wondered if you would ever accomplish something as special. 

        “So Brittany told me that Alex said that Jennifer heard…” Sakura’s gleeful chitters echo down the endless corridors, trailing off as you fall deeper and deeper into a worry-filled rabbit hole. What if you failed right on the first day? What if you never even came close to winning any kind of important awards like the people who had come here before you? 

        A headache grew not only from the bitter scent of Windex in the air covering every glass surface around you, but also from the flurry of thoughts in your head. You barely even comprehend when Sakura drops your arm and gasps at something, and you only shake out of your daze when it’s too late. 

        “Oof.” You slam into a sturdy, bulky chest and fall with a thud to the marble floor. With a hiss, you rub your aching backside and groan lightly. “That kinda hurt.”

        “Oh, I’m so sorry, are you all right?” The voice is deep and throaty, but there’s a certain giddiness about it that makes you wonder if his bumping into you was really an accident. Huffing, you glare up at the man, only to freeze at the sight. His hair looks like a black and white explosion, and his golden eyes are lit up with childlike excitement. Everything about him screams “powerful,” and even though his mouth is hidden behind a black facemask, you could almost swear he was beaming at you. Suddenly, a hand is waving around in front of your face.

        “Are you okay?” he asks again, eyes still narrowed arrogantly while he offers you help to your feet. 

        When you accept, a spark trails from his fingertips to yours and travels through your whole body at lightning speed before settling in the pit of your stomach. Involuntarily, you shiver and your fingers squeeze his large, rough hands. He lets out a small hum and closes his eyes at the action before whipping them open not even a second later. The pupils, black and glittering, have taken over the majority of his irises, and the man takes a small step closer to you. 

        “Thanks,” you whisper, unable to detach yourself from his enrapturing gaze.

        “Of course, YN.” The skin just under his eye twitches as he leans closer to you, and your breath hitches at his growing proximity.

        “Ahem!” Someone clears their throat loudly behind the wild-haired man and he instantly pulls away from you at the sound. It was like you had burned him, but before you could ask if he was okay, he mutters an apology over his shoulder and twists away from you, but not before giving your hand a quick squeeze. With a wink, he disappears into another hallway, leaving you with a tight feeling in your chest and a racing heart. 

        “YN!” It’s at that moment that you realize Sakura had witnessed all of that. “What the hell was that?” she whisper-yells at you with wide, mystified eyes. Still flustered yourself, you can only shrug and clench the straps of your backpack tightly.

        “I don’t know.” 

        “Well it doesn’t matter,” she scoffs before grasping your forearm and discreetly gesturing to a man in front of you. “Look,” she whispers enthusiastically, “it’s the hot teacher.”

        Oh, so that’s why she had gasped. And not without reason, too. The guy standing in front of you stole your breath away, and jump-started your heart just as it was about to settle down. 

        He had gunmetal blue eyes that seemed to narrow at everything, and messy black hair you desperately wanted to run your hands through. Though he was less built than the man you had just run into, there was still a hint of muscle under his clean, dark blazer. He was decked in a suit and tie, and looked more like James Bond than your new English teacher. Not that you were complaining. 

        “You ladies must be new students in my class.” His tone, albeit flat and bored, still set a fire to your nerves, much like the boy from earlier.

        “Yes, professor, we are!” Sakura nods frantically beside you and bats her eyelashes. “We are so excited to be in your class this year!” While she puckers her lips discreetly, you shift on your feet and bite the inside of your cheek, trying to restrain a blush. When his gaze shifts to you and the corner of his lips quirks up, your plan goes down the drain. 

        With a light chuckle under his breath, the professor nods approvingly at the two of you, and an emotion flickers through his eyes for a fleeting second as he stares at you once more. You barely catch it and can’t identify it in the small amount of time before he says, “Well, my room is right here. Class doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes, but you’re not the only ones to arrive early, so go ahead and find a seat.” 

        He gestures for you to follow him inside, and the door closes with a whoosh behind you as you enter the classroom. While the professor, Keiji Akaashi from what you can read off his nameplate, takes his seat at his large wooden desk, you peruse the space around you. 

        Students are chattering about in the lecture hall. Some are gathered in large clumps peering down at phones and giggling, while others are alone with headphones on, relaxing before the first class of the day. Sakura foolishly attempts to seat you both at the bottom row, closest to the teacher’s desk. Although you appreciated her reasoning, something always drew you to the back of the classroom, the very end of the space. Normally, what led you to covet this mostly hidden area in the dimmer part of the luminescent room was the idea of solitude and sparement from cheating, but today it was something more. 

        There was a boy, yes another one, lounged in the farthest row. With feet kicked up and crossed one over the other on his table space, he leaned back and watched you just as you watched him. His arms were folded behind his head while he served you a smug smirk, running a slow hand through his dark bedhead before waving teasingly at you. The cheeky act made you squeak in surprise, then a sudden growl rumbled around the room. 

        “Ms. YLN, please find a seat. Preferably one where you won’t be distracted.” Mr. Akaashi grumbled, observing you with narrowed eyes. 

        “Yes sir.” With a frantic nod, you dash up the steps to the last row of desks and plop down in one, Sakura long forgotten in the front row. She’s already made a few friends who seem just as thrilled as her to be in this class, so you weren’t exactly worried. You drop your bag to the floor beside you and pull out your phone to distract from your lonesome, but it doesn’t last long. A warm body approaches you and collapses into the spot right next to you, relaxing back into the same position you had seen him in two seconds ago. 

        “The name’s Kuroo,” he grins at you, opening only one eye to look you up and down. 

        “I’m YN,” you sputter out, dismissing formalities. “Nice to meet you.”

        “I know,” Kuroo simpers, and you can’t help but scoff at his response. The confidence he oozes is contagious, and so is the smirk he wears. 

        “Oh wow,” you laugh with a nod, “all right, smooth guy, calm it down.”

        “What,” he raises a brow playfully, “is it not nice to meet me?” 

        You bite your lip and shake your head in disbelief. “Oh, I don’t know,” you slump down into your chair and mock his posture, kicking your legs up onto the desk and crossing your arms, “you tell me.” 

        Your desk buddy cackles at this and you giggle with him. His laughter is just as infectious as his attitude. In your head, you knew this was going to bloom into a fun friendship-

        “YLN, Kuroo! Class is about to begin, so settle down!” Mr. Akaashi looks like he is about to blow steam out his ears, and his jaw twitches while snarling at you two. The sight sobers you right up, and you hurriedly sit straight up at your desk while muttering an apology. 

        For the rest of the period, Kuroo whispers the occasional joke into your ear that makes you want to crack up, but you’ve already had enough of your teacher’s scowl to know that would be dangerously thin ice. It ends with Mr. Akaashi dismissing you all and handing out a rubric for your first assignment as people exit the doorway. As you scramble to gather your notes and pens for your backpack, your new friend stays behind to keep you company. 

        “I’m telling you, YN, you’re only gonna cry at the end if you watch it!” Kuroo insists while handing you a textbook. 

        “Why would I?”

        “Because they shoot the dog!” You pout at him sadly while he furrows his brows and starts to continue. “At least, you really shouldn’t watch it alone.” 

        “Mhm.” He follows you down the steps of the lecture hall and to the doorway where Mr. Akaashi waits with a withering glare. 

        “Maybe we could-”

        “YN,” your professor interrupts with a blank stare, handing you a paper. His long, roughened fingers brush your own as he does and the touch leaves a spark, “have a good day. Mr. Kuroo,” he directs his darkening gaze to your chatterbox companion and slowly bares his teeth. “A word, please.”

        The door slams behind you thunderously as you stumble out into the hall from the force. 

        “What the hell was that all about?” you grumble, hiking your bag higher up your shoulder before leaving the university building. 

                                ~~~

        The diner was never as wonderful as you wanted, but it paid the bills. Of course, there were always the usual creeps, who showed up at around five, and then there were the occasional newbie creeps, who always shot their shot while they had the chance. Thankfully, and you suppose not-so thankfully, you weren’t the prettiest girl on the job.

        Although they paid you mostly to drop enough dignity to wear a short skirt with an apron, you weren’t the one with the most assets to flaunt. That job was also incidentally how you met Sakura, who had plenty to show off. You had become good friends when you had the same shifts, but you had become great friends when you helped her fend off a fresh pedophile from out of town. 

        Since then, she stuck to you like white on rice whenever you clocked in, and always jabbered about the most important things in life when you had time to talk. Today’s topic: the hot, new teacher.

        “Oh my God, YN, you should have seen the way he looked at me!” She bit her lip and clenched her eyes shut excitedly, wiggling with happiness. A miniature wave of jealousy flowed through your veins at her words, but it was gone before you could question it. 

        “Really?”

        “Yes! God, he has the most beautiful eyes!” She sighed dreamily while wiping down the counter. “And that hair! Ugh, don’t you just wanna run your fingers through it?” Yes.

        “Umm, sure.” You pick up the stray menus while nodding distractedly. 

        “And don’t even get me started on his smile. He has the most amazing teeth! Did you see his teeth?!” 

        “Yep.” 

        “Oh, don’t you think he has just the most wonderful-” The bells along the top of the restaurant’s entrance chime, signalling a new visitor, and you don’t wait to scramble away from Sakura. 

        “Welcome to-” Oh.

        It’s the man from earlier, from before your class, except this time he’s missing his mask. Judging by his reaction, you’re guessing he heard your slight gasp. Even from behind the counter, you can see his blinding smile, and the almost sharp teeth that come along with it. 

        “Hey YN!” he waves and takes the stool directly in front of your awestruck form. 

        “H-hi.” Your meek response makes you grow many shades of red from your neck all the way up to your hair. With a gawking mouth, you blindly feel for a menu and lay it in front of him. 

        “Thanks!” 

        “Yeah.” Your breathing falters at the wink he throws you before scrutinizing the laminated pages before him for his dinner. It only takes a few more minutes of awkwardly gaping at him before a realization hits you. 

        “Wait!” you announce loudly, capturing the attention of the whole diner. The room silences and you tense with wide eyes before waving your hands dismissively to return the patrons to their normal chatter. It’s not quite as pleasant and rowdy as before, but it’s enough to please you. Returning your gaze to the wild haired man from before, you flinch to see he’s already watching you like a hawk. Or maybe like an owl, according to his hyper focused, expectant stare. 

        This time, you make sure to lower your voice as you whisper, “How do you know my name?” The man before you stiffens and his Adam’s apple bobs. 

        “Umm, I… I…” he avoids your eyes as his own dart around the diner nervously. “I heard your friend say it!” he exclaims with an assured nod. “Yes, yes I heard your friend say it.” He points at Sakura who is chasing down a customer’s toddler running rampant around the other tables and chairs. 

        “Okay,” you nod slowly, still scrutinizing his face with narrowed eyes, “I guess that makes sense.” 

        “Yep.” He grins complacently at you before dropping his face down onto the menu again. 

        “All right,” you repeat, bobbing your head still. “All right, so if you get to know my name, doesn’t that mean I get to know yours?” 

        “Yes!” His eyes sparkle with happiness as he practically breaks his neck to face you in a split second. “My name is Koutarou Bokuto!” He shoves a hand over the counter and you gingerly accept it, shaking it politely with your own. It causes more fireworks along your nerve endings and forces a slight huff out of you. 

        “Nice to meet you, Bokuto.” A small smile had crept onto your face during the handshake, and your gaze on him softens. 

        “Aww, c’mon, call me Koutarou!” He pouts and shoves his chin into his hand, slamming his elbow down onto the counter indignantly. You disguise a giggle behind your fingers and his dramatic facial expression lets up a bit. 

        “No way, we don’t know each other enough,” you laugh, pulling the notebook and pen out of your apron. “Now do you want to hear the specials?”

        “From you? Hell yeah!”

                                ~~~

        A couple weeks have passed since your first class, and within that time you seemed to have become a teacher’s pet. Apparently, according to Mr. Akaashi, you were the only student who actually tried or paid attention in his class. At a certain point, you wanted to correct and reassure him that no, you barely paid attention, you just really liked English and studied on your own time. But as time went on, you began to appreciate his comments on your abilities. Plus, you supposed he wasn’t exactly wrong; most people were either entranced by your professor himself or stuck in a daze while staring outside the convenient, twenty-foot high classroom windows. They were quite the aesthetic, which also made them a conducive distraction. 

        In this spanse of time, you had also received more visits from Bokuto at the diner, and you spent more time out of the classroom with Kuroo. Through those hours with them, you grew closer to both, each of them gaining the title as your friend. Lately, however, a large majority of your time was spent helping Mr. Akaashi grade papers. He had inquired you a while ago to become his student assistant, and you didn’t mind helping out. 

        When he had asked, though, was when you lost favor with just about everyone in your class. 

        “YN, could you come down here for a second?” He had just dismissed them all, and singled you out just as you began to pack your things. With a curious glance from Kuroo, you shrugged and trudged down the steps, nervously standing in front of his neatly-organized desk while students filtered out behind you. 

        “Bitch.”

        “Attention whore.”

        “What a slut.”

        You glowered at the names and slumped your shoulder, practically hugging your bag like a safety blanket at this point. Mr. Akaashi only rose from his chair and slammed the door closed after them angrily, Kuroo being one of the last to leave. 

        “I’m sorry about that.” You take in a breath and wave your hand dismissively. 

        “No, no, it’s okay. People are just stupid.” Akaashi purses his lips and nods at your words, but a muscle in his jaw twitches nonetheless.

        “All right,” he sighs, standing across from you and placing his hands on his hips. The action causes his suit jacket to shift back and the front of his pristine, white undershirt to tighten against his chest, showing off its toned muscles. You swallow at the sight and unwillingly drag your gaze back up to his. For just a second his eyes darken, but you blame it on the lighting, no matter how stable it is. 

        “Anyways,” he continues gruffly, “I wanted to congratulate you. You did well on the last assignment, and I’m proud of you.” His praise shoots deep into your stomach and you bite your lip to fight off a full-blown grin. 

        “Oh, um thanks.” You were flattered mostly, but a small part of you would mourn the way your classmates used to ignore your existence. 

        “Of course. I can also tell, by your assignments, that you’re quite ahead of the others.” God, he just never stopped. The apples of your cheeks were Rudolph red at this point. “And I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind helping me grade some of the others’ papers if you have the time.” 

        The proposition made you pause at first. He later explained that it would only be a few hours a week after school just around the time the sun began to set, and that he would really appreciate the help. 

        … Who were you to say no? 

                                ~~~

        You should have said no. 

        In some weird way, you enjoyed scrutinizing the stupidity of your peers. Especially after the assholeish way they had been treating you recently. Even Kuroo’s essays on topics that weren’t even assigned were fun to read, as he usually would type up a five-page rant about why a certain cartoon character was an idiot, instead of about why Romeo and Juliet killed themselves. 

        However, there was a small factor in the process of helping Mr. Akaashi that you had accidentally mulled over. 

        He was hot.

        Already, there was nothing more distracting than your hot professor sitting across from you at his desk with his overcoat abandoned and his sleeve shirts rolled up to display his impressive forearm muscles. No, he made it worse, because this bastard forgot to mention he wore glasses. 

        Every few minutes, he would feel your gaze on him and glance up at you over the frames with a small smirk. The minuscule act was devastating on your focus. 

        Today was no different, although, something weird had happened. You had mistakenly walked in on him arguing over the phone with someone. 

        “You’re too stupid to be in my class. Plus, that dumbass cat is in it, and I know you won’t be able to hold yourself back around him.” Mr. Akaashi hissed into his phone. You couldn’t exactly hear the person on the other side, but something about their tone seemed… familiar. After that, he had spotted you and quickly hung up. 

        Now, you sat across from him at his desk with a chair you had pulled over from the corner of the classroom, and yawned behind your hand while reading a fellow classmate’s essay. 

        “YN?” He slowly set down the paper he had been marking with a red pen and peeked at his watch. “It is a little later than when we normally finish. Would you like me to walk you home?” 

        The offer was tempting, and although you did have self-control, your professor was really pushing it with those glasses. 

        “No, I’ll be okay.” You stand up and grab your bag, smiling shyly when he helps you put on your coat. “Thank you,” you mumble.

        “Of course.” A twinge of happiness leaks into his voice behind you and you have to glance back to make sure it’s still the same guy. He’s not grinning abnormally like you expected, but something akin to excitement glows in his eyes. 

        “Okay,” you rush out, a little flustered by his bizarre display of emotion. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess.” With a wave over your shoulder, you don’t even dare to look back, too afraid that you might hop on him like a wolf in heat. Something about Mr. Akaashi always made you want to stay longer than necessary, but you never did. Damn self-control.

        The sun had set hours ago, you could tell that by the way that you couldn’t even see your own feet. 

        “Goddamnit,” you groan, snatching your phone out of your pocket and turning on the flashlight. It was about a half a mile walk to your apartment, and you weren’t sure if your thirty percent battery could handle it. 

        “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hiss. Not only was it dark, it was also freezing, and you puff warm air on your fingers to fend off the cold. The streetlamps on the campus sidewalk buzzed and stirred with moths. A particularly cold wind nipped at your nose and threw your hair into your face. You could only spit it out with a “plugh” while you hugged yourself tighter. Crickets chirped and signalled they were the only sign of life in the area. Well, except for whatever had just snapped that twig behind you. 

        “Who’s there?” you yelped, whipping around and flaunting your flashlight in front of you. Nothing responded, and all you could see on the frosted concrete was a broken, wooden stick. There wasn’t even a footstep. By now, your whole body was trembling from fear and cold, but you kept on your way, speeding up your pace to a power walk while hastily trying to not trip over something as well. 

        A shiver rolled up your spine as a familiar feeling returned. Someone was watching you. Their gaze was tangible, like two fingertips jabbing against the back of your head. The hair on the back of your neck stood at attention as you started to jog, dismissing the possibility of a fall. 

        Adrenaline rushed through your body and you could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears, along with the heavy breathing of someone behind you. Oh shit! 

        They were right on your tail, and you sped up into a sprint for your life. The flashlight on your phone flickered, then flickered some more when you smacked it with a frustrated “C’mon!” before finally turning off completely. 

        The university’s street lamps were long gone, as tonight you had chosen for a quicker back way so you could get to sleep earlier. Damn your need for beauty rest. 

        Your lungs pleaded for air as your legs burned. They wiggled from underneath you, now only fueled by your fight or flight hormone, and right now you were flying.  

        And then you weren’t. 

        With a horrified screech, you tripped over a stray rock on the concrete and tumbled into the grass near the sidewalk. Your stalker let out a small chuckle and straddled your screaming form. 

        “Help! Oh God, help me! Help m-mmpf!” A cloth slammed over your nostrils and mouth, and in your panicked state, you breathed. You couldn’t see the man above you, only a faint form of him, but you could tell from his weight that he was big. Well, not big. Muscular. 

        “Sshh, YN, we need to take care of you now. Just breathe it in, then we can take care of you forever.” 

        Tears pricked your eyes as you let out more muffled screams. Your heart was in a frenzied panic, and skipped a beat when your head began to grow woozy. 

        “Good job, YN.” Oh God. “You’re doing so well, darling. Just you wait.” Was that… “We’ll take care of you, and we’ll love you forever. Just like the old days.” Bokuto. 

        You were so tired, so very tired. You just wanted to sleep, to close your eyes. 

        So you did. 

                                ~~~

        Pain overtook the sides of your brain as you woke up. With a pained groan, you peeled one eye open, then another before glancing around. The room was relatively large, and you observed your surroundings as you sat up off a wood floor, wrapped only in a blanket and sitting on three couch cushions with a matching pillow. 

        The first thing you noticed was that you were in a cage. Metal bars surrounded you and grouped together so tightly you could barely fit your full forearm through. There was only about a foot of space left around your makeshift mattress, and the metal bars led all the way to the ceiling. A lockspace for a key was directly in front of you, and past it was a door to the entire room. To your left was a couch, de-cushioned for your benefit, and to your right was a TV, softly playing the day’s weather forecast. Behind you, there was a window, with the curtains pulled back to show a forest, the sky, and nothing more. Birds chirped from outside, signalling that morning had just started. 

        “What?” you whispered brokenly, scratching your already abused throat from yesterday’s screaming match. 

        “YN?” The door opened, and in an instant you stood and crashed forwards into the metal bars, reaching for whoever it was. “YN, are you awake? I brought you breakfast.” 

        The voice triggers a pain in the side of your neck, and you hiss while pressing your fingers against it. Then you whimper at the feeling. 

        There, on the side of your neck, equally away from your collar bone and your ear, were two scabbed puncture wounds about the size of pencil eraser tips. 

        “Oh my God,” you whisper, trembling with fear and pain. “What did you do to me?”

        “Good morning, my love,” Akaashi purses his lips and draws closer with a metal tray. It holds plates with pancakes, sausage, eggs, and anything else for breakfast that would normally make you drool. It’s well-made too, but too bad you feel more like hurling than anything else. 

        He sets it down and nudges it under a small space between the cell bars and the floor, just barely making it untouched into your cage. “My apologies,” he soothes with a gesture to your neck, “sometimes Bokuto just can’t help himself around you. I assure you he only tasted a drop though.” 

        With a strangled sob, you fall back to the ground and cup a hand around your bruised neck, weeping silently and hugging your knees into your chest for comfort. The sudden action causes Akaashi to jump, slamming up against your cell and clenching the bars with wide eyes. 

        “My love? Are you okay?” The door slams open behind him.

        “Well, is she awake?” The sight of him makes you moan in despair while tucking your face into your legs. Another clang against your cage is heard and you peer up to see Bokuto grabbing the bars as well, watching you with fearful eyes. 

        “What did you do to me?” you hiss angrily, tears oddly drying up in an instant. Your bloodshot eyes remain as you bare your teeth, and rage takes over you. The petrified state has passed and you’ve moved onto the next level. 

        “What the hell did you do to me?!” you shout, still pressing a hand against your neck. As if that could eliminate the mark he left. 

        Bokuto huffs and puts on a small pout, pressing his face dangerously close to the bars as he whines. “I’m so sorry, YN, I just couldn’t help myself! Next time, I promise I’ll wait until you let me!” His words ignite a flame in your chest. Your emotions are so up the roof in this moment that each one takes over on a whim.

        “‘Next time’?! ‘Let me’?!” You stand and charge the bars, reaching out to strangle both nutjobs only to smirk when they step back hastily. “I’m gonna kill you motherfuckers!”

        Both men stay silent and observe you hesitantly. Akaashi wonders if you might just go batshit enough to break out of the cage. Bokuto wonders how soon he will be able to get a taste of you again. After all, this time you taste even better than all your past reincarnates combined. It’s addicting.

        You wonder- oh fuck it.

        “Where the hell am I?!”

Masterlist  Next

The Miracle of Childbirth (Oikawa x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Yours and Oikawa’s children were the most amazing creatures on Earth… except when they acted like munchkin-sized pain in the asses. 

A/N: Here’s a little imagine to celebrate 500 fUcKiNg followers, like holy shit!! Goddamn that’s amazing tysm :)))! (Also, it hasn’t actually happened yet, but I’m like two followers away so I’m gonna count it cuz I’ll be busy tomorrow.)  It’s more Oikawa shit bc he’s just a hot piece of flat ass, and I’m dying for more domestic stuff w him. I got it from this prompt by @otpdisaster​, so enjoy!

Word count: 880

        There was no greater feeling than when you first looked into your twin children’s eyes while lying in your hospital bed. They were your shade, but had the long, curled lashes of their father. Aiko already had Tooru’s smug smirk down, and Reo had his brown tufts. 

        “They’re beautiful,” you had whispered, cooing softly when Reo wrapped his miniature fingers around your pinkie. Tooru nodded softly at your bedside, cradling your little girl in his arms and smiling down at her. 

        “They’re perfect,” he mumbled back, running a gentle thumb over her cheek. “They’re gonna be the best volleyball players on this side of the world.” You giggle lightly and shake your head while brushing over your boy’s fuzzy scalp, hugging his swaddled form closer to your chest. 

        “I’m sure.” You sigh happily as your husband pecks Aiko’s forehead, causing her to let out a small huff. 

        Every chubby little foot, every puffy tummy was gorgeous in your guys’ eyes. Nothing they could ever do would ruin the way you viewed them as the lights of your lives. They were nothing short of miracles. 

        Except for when they acted like little gremlins. 

        “WE CAPTURED THE DEMON!” You pause at the words and stare confusedly at the door. With a furrowed brow, you unlock your home and step inside, only to see a literal nightmare. 

        Stray pillows and blankets were splayed everywhere in your living room. The couch was cushionless and there was a homemade fort in the center of it all. It was primarily supported by four dining chairs dragged out onto the lounge’s carpet, but had a barrier that consisted of the sofa’s fundamental sections and stuffed animals from the children’s rooms. Two hefty comforters overlapped above its foundation and stood as an accessible entrance to the inside. 

        Both Aiko and Reo ran circles around the fortress with victorious war cries, waving their nerf guns wildly above their heads. “We captured the demon! We captured the demon!” Their yells echoed throughout the whole house as they scrambled up the stairs, presumably to grab more ammo. You, throughout all of this, had watched in a mixture of horror and amusement. 

        “Tooru?” you called out, glancing around the house for any sight of your husband. 

        “Mmmpf mmpf!” A muffled voice hummed from within the fort. Releasing a heavy sigh, you set down your keys and purse on the coffee table before kneeling down on the carpet. You crawl on your hands and knees to the fort, pushing aside a blanket and peering in. The sight before you was almost laughable. 

        Surrounded by a barrage of nerf darts and duct taped to a flimsy tea party chair was Tooru, gagged with a bundled pair of socks. Glitter sparkled in his brown hair and one plastic dart stood like a unicorn horn from his head while he frowned at you. 

        You could only smirk. “Need a little help?” He narrows his eyes, throwing a lazy glare your way. . 

        “Plugh,” he spits out the sock, “Welcome home.” 

        “Gee thanks,” you snicker before gesturing up and down at him. “So what, uh, what happened here?”

        “Our children might become criminals.” He shakes his head wildly to loosen his forehead decoration, but it sticks like a piece of gum on the underside of a table. Tossing his head back in frustration, he lets out a loud groan before wiggling his captivated form at you. “You mind?”

        “I guess I must.” You decide to show him pity and unwrap his hands, snorting when you rip off some arm hair. 

        “Owwie!” he pouts while rubbing his wrists, rising up from the plastic pink chair. After flicking away the nerf dart, you lead the way back into the outside world and Tooru squints at the change in lighting. 

        “How long were you in there?”

        “Too long,” his eyes are haunted while he stares disorientedly at the wall. “I can’t believe my own children think I’m a demon.”

        “Yeah, well, I’m the evil mom who won’t buy them McDonald’s every night. We all got problems.” As daily tradition, you peck his lips softly before walking into the kitchen to prepare dinner. 

        “What’s on the menu tonight?” He follows you and winds his arms around your waist, settling his chin on your shoulder while you sift through the cupboards. 

        “Green bean casserole.”

        Two gasps sound from behind you. 

        “Oh no, they’re both demons now!” Reo exclaims.

        “GET ‘EM!” Aiko shouts, and suddenly you’re being used as a human shield while Tooru screeches behind you in terror. Neft darts begin hit you in savory and unsavory places, and one even pokes you in the eye before-

        “Hey, look, now Mommy’s a unicorn too!”

Across the Hall (Oikawa x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Across the hall lived Oikawa, a smug womanizer who never knew how to confront his one-night stands after their five minutes of fame. To avoid confrontation, he repeatedly seeks refuge in your apartment, or in his case, in your bed. But what happens when you start to grow feelings for this amorous neighbor of yours?

A/N: (It’s not five am! Yay me!) This is an au prompt called “You live across the hall and you hide in my apartment when you want to avoid your one-night stands” I got from this list. My god, I wanted this to be so much better than it actually was. If even a single person likes this, I will be eternally grateful. I sincerely hope you guys like this one! 

Word count: 5678

        Your apartment complex was filled with… a different kind of people. The tenants below you, one ginger and one blunet, bickered like no other. Meanwhile, the renters above you, one with a buzzcut and one with black hair and a bleached tuft, constantly watched and fawned over Next Top Model. It was all weird, but the most curious one of all was the man who lived across from you. 

        He was a womanizer with no sense of personal space, and constantly holed up in your apartment to wait out his one-night stands. Over the months, you two became friends, and while you repeatedly offered to let him hide and rest in your spare bedroom, he never seemed to appreciate the offer. Instead, he had a tenacious habit of crawling into your bed space and wrapping his arms around you with the claim that he couldn’t sleep without cuddling something. No matter how many pillows you chucked at him, you seemed to be his most favorite teddy bear.

        Tonight was no different, and your heart fluttered when he pulled you tighter into his chest. He had woken you up instantly, and he was lucky that you were too tired to be pissed off by the act. 

        “Oikawa,” you mumble lazily, rubbing the tiredness away from your eyes, “you know I only gave you that key for emergencies, right?”

        “But this is an emergency, YN. The girls never leave unless I’m not there when they wake up.”

        “Then maybe you should stop hooking up with random women.”

        “I don’t see the issue.”

        “Mhm,” you hum, rolling over in his embrace and yawning in his face. He gags at the smell and you smirk. “You know there’s a perfectly good couch for you to sleep on, right?”

        “It’s extremely uncomfortable, I can’t stand that thing. I don’t know why you bought it.”

        “Okay, then what about my spare room?” 

        “I’ve slept in there too! And trust me, nothing is more comfortable than this bed right-” Oikawa’s ranting is cut off by a frantic knock on your door. With a sigh, you nod your head towards the hall of your apartment and raise a brow. 

        “Is that tonight’s expedition?” He gives you a bashful smile.

        “Possibly.” Rolling your eyes, you scramble out of your bed and trudge out of your room. The banging is about to rip your door right off its hinges. As it shivers from the force, Oikawa trails timidly behind you and peeks over your shoulder at the sight. 

        “What, did you bang a pro-wrestler or something?” You’re judging him so hard right now. 

        “Ugh, YN. So unfeminine. I don’t ‘bang,’ I make love.” 

        “To a rhino?” You watch with wide eyes as your front door trembles before approaching it slowly. 

        “Maybe.” Oikawa opts to cower behind the island in your kitchen, which is adjacent to the entrance of your apartment and in a perfect position for him to not be spotted. 

        “Wonderful,” you mutter, hesitantly placing a hand on the knob and opening the barricade to the beast. “Can I help you?” you ask, plastering on a fake smile.

        Your neighbor’s one-night stand looks like she just stepped out of a magazine. With wavy blonde hair and long, tan legs, she seemed like the type to squash men under her designer stilettos and not bat an eye. Exactly his type.

        “Yes, I’m looking for my… boyfriend Tooru,” she glances inside your apartment suspiciously, getting a little too close for comfort. “Have you seen him?”

        “Umm, nope. Haven’t seen him.” You boredly blink at her and keep a hand on the door just in case she tries to barge inside. 

        “Well, if you do, could you tell him Sakura is looking for him?” She flashes you a dazzling smile that almost burns your irises.

        “Sure.”

        “Thanks! I’ll see you around!” Waving goodbye, she disappears inside the apartment across from yours, presumably to relocate her clothes from the night before. 

        “Not likely,” you mumble gruffly, slamming the door. You step into your kitchen only to find Oikawa casually eating a bowl of cereal on a stool at your counter. He shoots you an incredulous look.

        “She didn’t see me, right?!”

        “Oh no, of course not.” You snatch the breakfast away and munch on a bite of Cheerios. “Your girlfriend didn’t notice you stealing my food out in the open like a buttnugget.”

        “I am not a ‘buttnugget’! And I’d prefer you not speak with your mouth full.” You stick your tongue out at him and he grimaces at the bits of chewed food still visible. “Nasty. Anyways, she’s not my girlfriend.” 

        “I guess you’re right,” you shrug, plopping onto a stool next to his, “she’s more like the love of your life.” You waggle your eyebrows at him and he scoffs while pushing your shoulder playfully. 

        “Not in a million years.” He rises from his seat and smoothly presses his ear to the door before checking the peephole. “Coast is clear. You should probably go back to bed, YN. Get some more of that beauty rest you so desperately need.”

        “Bite me,” you grumble around a mouthful of cereal. 

        “I just might.” With a wink, he disappears out into the hall and back into his own home. The feeling of disappointment when he left wasn’t unknown to you, but you didn’t want to mull over it right now. Instead, you purse your lips and stand to wash the now-empty bowl, catching a glimpse of your clock on the way. 

        “Three a.m! What the fuck?!” Now that you know, the darkness outside your windows makes a lot more sense. Fortunately, it’s a Saturday, and it’s also not the first time Oikawa has required your help in fending off his nighttime companions. You’re used to it, but that doesn’t mean you don’t ream his ass about it every time you’re a little more conscious and awake. 

        “Goddamnit Oikawa.”

                                ***

It happens again, and again, and again. And every time it does, your feelings for him grow just a bit more, weirdly enough. On those early mornings that you wake up to him sliding into your bed and winding himself around you, you can’t help but wish it was for an entirely different reason. Sadly, reality was that he was just trying to escape his nightly mistakes. 

        Some days, you rouse to the smell of bacon wafting into the room. Others, he slips in and out before you even stir, leaving only a couple pancakes and a thank you note in his wake. 

        It’s been more than a year of this. A year of your apartment being used as a hideout, and of you being used as snuggly aftercare. Finally, you’ve decided you’ve had enough. You made a plan to confess at Christmas while you exchange gifts. 

        “Oh wow!” You hold up the hand-written slip of paper with an amused smile. It had been packaged in several wrapped cardboard boxes, and you had spent twenty minutes removing and ripping open one after the other while Oikawa busted a gut. “A limited time coupon for one free booty call!” You shake your head with a small chortle while he snickers at the gift. 

        “I even laminated it.”

        “Yes, yes you did,” you snort, flapping the “coupon” in the air. Holiday music plays softly in the background and you're both wrapped in blankets. A televised campfire crackles on the screen behind Oikawa, and the only thing brightening up your living room is the medium-sized, ornamented tree near the two of you, tinging the air with the scent of spruce and cinnamon. 

        “All right, I suppose I’ll save this for later.” You slip his gift under your thigh and hand him your own, in a red and green bag with tissue paper sticking out the top. “Now open mine!” 

        He smiles and digs his hand inside, crinkling around while he guesses, “Is it… a blanket?”

        “Nope.”

        “Is it… a t-shirt that says ‘I’m with stupid’?”

        “No, you jerk!” You laugh and smack his knee. “Just open it!”

        “If it’s worse than my gift, you totally owe me.” 

        “That’s literally not possible.” He gasps dramatically at you and finally pulls out the clothing. It’s a sweatshirt you had made especially for him. On the front was the logo for Boys’ Volleyball Nationals, and his eyes gleam in delight. Then he flips it around and reads the back. 

        “‘Number One Spectator’?!” He gawks at you in offense and you can’t hold back your giggles. While you crack up, he repeatedly glances between you and the sweatshirt with a pout. 

        “You totally owe me for this, YN!” 

        “I can’t! Oh, this is too good!” you guffaw, wiping tears away from your eyes. Suddenly, Oikawa tackles you to the floor, both hands beginning to attack your sides in a flurry of tickles. 

        “Oh shit!” you screech, twisting back and forth to try and escape. Your attempts are futile. 

        “Say you’re sorry!” One of his hands capture both of your wrists and hold them above your head so you couldn’t fight him. 

        “Never!” Your flabs ache while you wheeze out the occasional laugh. 

        “You’re so mean, YN!” He scolds with a wagging finger before instantly assaulting your exposed sides once more. “Just say your sorry!”

        “Okay, okay! I’m sorry!” you cry out with a giggle, gulping in large amounts of air when he finally stops. 

        “You’re forgiven,” he nods with a lopsided grin, still holding your hands hostage. A long moment passes as you relax and catch your breath, his gaze never leaving your flushed face, but when you can finally think properly again, you realize the compromising position you both are in. 

        He’s straddling your hips, one pressed against each side while his face leers over your own. Never before have you noticed just how dark his brown eyes are, and you can’t help but spot the occasional gold fleck while you lose yourself in them. With a gulp, you rub your thighs together and lick your lips. The action instantly grabs his attention, and Oikawa tightens his grip on your wrists before slowly lowering himself closer to you. A small part of you wants to wait, wants to let your relationship grow stronger, but the rest of you yearns to live in the moment and enjoy it while you have the chance. You pick your side, and clasp your eyes shut to brace yourself. Then it happens.

        There’s no explosions or fireworks like the books, but every single one of your nerves twinge with sparks. His lips are soft as they gently caress your own, taking their time to memorize the feeling. His brunet locks brush against your forehead and he carefully releases his hold on you, trailing his hands down to cup your cheeks while his tongue begs for entrance. Losing yourself in the moment, you allow it access, teasing and battling him for dominance with your own while you tenderly dig your fingers into his hair, combing and tugging on the strands as the kiss grows more heated. You separate for just a split second and Oikawa doesn’t stray far. In an instant, he’s biting and sucking on the smooth skin along your chin, using one arm to support himself over you while the other angles your head perfectly for his lips. Pain mingles with pleasure as his teeth graze and nip your delicate flesh. 

        “Tooru,” you whimper, and he grunts deeply in response. You yank on his tangled tufts harder, mewling his name repeatedly while he moves lower to leave love bites up and down your neck. He pecks the bruises soothingly and groans at the feeling of your hands pulling harshly in reaction to the sting. 

        “What do you want, YN?” He coos, words whispered against your skin. The sensation leaves you writhing beneath him. 

        “You.” 

                                ***

        That night, the coupon was left forgotten on the floor, but its offer had been used.

        The next day, you picked it up with a sniffle and dumped it into the trash while you gathered your clothes from around the living room. Like every other girl he had been with, he left during the middle of the night. 

        Unlike the mornings where you were shaken awake by him holding you close, you were all alone while viewing the sunrise through your blinds this time. 

        With puffy cheeks, you made yourself some instant coffee and downed it, ignoring the burn and the fresh numbness of your tongue now. You breathe out shakily and set the empty mug in the sink before preparing to take a shower. Every one of your movements was passively lifeless. Each footstep dragged against the floor, and every heartbeat in your chest pained you. 

        Under the scalding water, you scrubbed away the memory as best as you could, leaving your skin raw and aching, but you could still feel a semblance of his touch.

        In the mirror, purple blemishes littered every inch of your body from your chin to your calves. The sight of them reminded you of what exactly had scared him off. 

        His head was buried in the back of your neck as he nibbled on the skin there. You sighed happily, reveling in the afterglow of your love-making while relaxing further into the bed. Ever so slowly, you trail a hand down to your hips and interlock your fingers with his own, leading him to peck your nape gently. 

        “I love you,” you confess quietly. It was the heat of the moment, and you couldn’t help yourself. His body tenses behind you and his hand squeezes yours tightly for just a second. 

        “Oh.” The word, if that’s what it was, doesn’t sink in, and you fall asleep with a small smile on your face, pressing your back against his chest comfortingly. 

        At the time, you didn’t know. You had finally been with the man you loved, and he didn’t return your feelings. You wanted to be angry, enraged, or vengeful, but you were just sad. Ashamed of yourself and what you had done the night before. 

        In the past, you thought you meant more to Oikawa than his one night stands. You had seen the fake smiles he put up around them, and they never compared to the authentic grins he gave you. He joked with you, opened up to you, spent time with you and always seemed to want you around. Oh, how wrong you were to believe he would feel the same. 

                                ***

        Your employers weren't exactly okay with the fact that you had skipped about a month of work to wallow in self-pity, so they fired you. This unfortunate fact led you to search for a roommate, someone who could help you pay the rent while you job-hunted. You got an offer, and today he was moving in. 

        “YN?!” A familiar voice echoed from your apartment’s hallway, followed by a knocking on wood. “YN?!”

        “Oikawa?” You hesitantly make eye contact with him while hauling your groceries up the stairs. He’s in front of your door surrounded by cardboard boxes, and his face looks flushed with distress. 

        “YN, are you moving out?!” It’s the first time he’s talked to you since he left, and you want to beat the crap out of him with the hope that it would quell the pain. It won’t work, you know that, but you figure it’d be worth a shot.

        “No,” you clench your jaw and avoid his panicked gaze, “I got a new roommate.” 

        “Oh.” The look on his face falls, but so does every other emotion he had been displaying. Crossing his arms, he nods in understanding while observing the boxes of personal belongings around him. “That makes sense.”

        “Yeah, so uh… I guess I don’t really have to tell you this, but you can’t really hide out in my spare room anymore,” you shift on your feet, “You know, if you wanted to.”

        “Oh,” he repeats, and a muscle twitches in his jaw. “Okay.” 

        Awkward silence falls in the hallway, and you gulp while shifting awkwardly on the final stair to your apartment level. 

        “S-so,” he stutters before clearing his throat, “who’s your roommate?” 

        “Oh, his name is-” With perfect timing, your new roomie whips open the door to your home and grabs another cardboard box, completely dismissing the existence of the brunet across from him. 

        “Ushiwaka?!”

                                ***

        Your new roommate wasn’t exactly a bundle of fun. And for some reason, whenever he was caught in the hall with Oikawa, the latter would verbally attack him like a rat on a Cheeto. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you had a distant memory of your neighbor complaining about a man like Ushijima. You had both been on your couch, drinking wine and just talking about life when he suddenly grew angry at the memory of a man who “pissed him off like no other.” 

        In a way, you understood why; they were complete opposites. One was smug and social, while the other was more laid-back and reserved. Fate must have been on your side. Of course your new roommate would be the mortal enemy of the man who had broken your heart. Things were looking up, and it felt good to see Oikawa jealous, no matter how petty it sounded. You were heart-broken. Screw playing nice.

        “Hey YN?” Ushijima’s deep voice boomed from within his bedroom. The sudden holler made you jump from where you had been reclining on your couch, binging a new Netflix series. 

        “Yeah?” 

        “Can you take out the trash today? I have to get to practice.”

        “Sure, I got it.” After hopping off your sofa with a deep sigh, you plugged your nose with one hand and grabbed the trash bag in the kitchen with the other, kicking your way outside and into the hall. 

        “I’ll see you later snookums!” A feminine tone chimed from behind you. 

        “Heh, wonderful.” Oikawa. He must have a new lady friend. “Can’t wait, okay byeee!” His words were desperate and rushed as you pivoted to see him ushering a girl with her heels in her hands down the stairs. Wasn’t that… oh what’s her name… Sakura! When she disappears from his sight, he face palms and groans loudly. 

        “Still having trouble kicking ‘em to the curb?” you snort, rolling your eyes. While you throw your trash down the chute in the hall, Oikawa sighs. 

        “Umm sort of, actually. I just… I don’t know.” He sounds confused and broken. For some odd reason, you almost want to comfort him. “YN.” A hand drops on your shoulder and urges you to turn around. You do, and regrettably so. 

        His body language doesn’t show it, but deep in his eyes, there’s an emotion you desired from him weeks ago. No. “Things aren’t the same anymore. And I think I’ve figured out why.”

        “No.”

        “YN, please just let me explain.”

        “No, Tooru!” His name slips from your lips before you can stop it. “You don’t get to do that!” Your heart is racing in an instant and his nostrils flare. 

        “YN, I love you!”

        “I don’t care!” 

        A painfully long silence follows after your shout. The three words you’ve always wanted to hear from him echo in your head. He loves me. He loves me. Yes, but it didn’t matter. What he’s done… it was unforgivable. Leaving you like every other woman he’s been with. You thought you two were friends, that he wouldn’t treat you like that. But he did, and no matter how he felt now, he had to feel your pain. 

        “You… don’t care?” His lower lip trembles and his voice cracks. You quirk your mouth nervously and shake your head. 

        “Oikawa,” you mutter, “if you really loved me, why did you treat me like the rest?” 

        He stares at you for a while, frozen in shock. The hall grows ten times colder and suddenly it’s hard for you to breathe. You had to get out of there. 

        Spinning on your heel, you hurry back into your apartment, closing and locking the door just as you felt his fingertips reach and brush your elbow. 

        “YN! Wait!” 

        “YN? Are you okay?” Ushijima towers over your form, which had slumped to the ground against the wall. Tears prick your eyes, and you couldn’t remember the last time someone had asked you that question. He meant it too, there was a concern in his gaze you yearned for. 

        “No,” you croak out, using the door to help you stand with wobbling knees. The wood shivers beneath your hand from the pressure of Oikawa’s knocks. “No, I’m not.”

        Desperately, your neighbor's voice still pleads outside, and Ushijima nods. “Okay, I’ll talk to him.” It’s the most words he’s said to you in a day, and they pang your heart. 

        “Thank you,” you mumble, trudging away from the door and collapsing back onto your couch. 

        “Of course.” 

        The door opens behind you, and the lock clicks after it whooshes shut. You hug your knees into your chest and let the tears fall. 

        He loves me.

        “YN please!”

        He loves me.

        “She doesn’t want to talk to you. Please respect her wishes.”

        He loves me.

        “Oh, shut up you big oaf. I’m not gonna let you keep her from me! I won’t let you stop me again!”

        He loves me. 

        You breathe out a shaky sigh as the voices finally quiet. Wrapping a blanket around yourself, you fall into a dreamless sleep on the couch, stained cheeks and all. 

                                ***

        Another week passes. Ushijima has been talking you through the pain, but he’s also made you see reason. 

        “YN, he can be a pain, but I don’t think you should give up like this.” Was that really what happened? Did you give up? 

        “Doesn’t he deserve it?” 

        “Maybe, but I think he might be a person like me. I need time to sort my feelings out about things. Maybe he did too.” 

        His words shock you to the core. In all the time you’ve been thinking about your own feelings over what happened, Oikawa might’ve only started to understand his own. Okay, you got that. But then why did he sleep with more women afterwards?

        “You might be right, but I still need time.”

        “Okay.”

        In a million years, you never thought a stoic man like Ushijima would become the one to help you understand other people’s minds. He himself seemed aloof, especially when you tried to thank him. “For what?” he would say, “I’m just proposing a theory.” The man didn’t have a single touchy-feely bone in his body, and you began to respect that. It didn’t mean you would confront Oikawa yet, but at least you were getting somewhere. 

        While you stew over what Ushijima had told you, you hear a racket from in the hall. Ushijima is at practice, so you have to leave the apartment for the first time since last Thursday. 

        “Hey Shittykawa! Open up!” 

        There’s a beefy man furiously smacking Oikawa’s door that intimidates the shit out of you. However, you’re obviously not his target, so you lightly set the baseball bat down that you had grabbed for self-defense. 

        “C’mon Loserkawa! Tell me what’s going on!”

        “Umm,” you hesitantly pipe up. “Is everything okay?” While even though it involved your neighbor… you think, you still wondered if something bad was going on. Did something happen to Oikawa? Guilt struck your heart at the thought. Oh God, what if you never got to see him again?

        “Yeah, I guess,” Beefcake replies gravely and gestures a thumb at your neighbor’s door. “My friend just hasn’t left his house in a while. Sorry if I disturbed you.” 

        “It’s okay.” You figure the muscle man has it handled and plan to return to your daily activities of job-searching and wallowing in misery, but he grabs your shoulder suddenly, causing you to flinch. 

        “Wait!” He looks over his shoulder at Oikawa’s door, then back to you and your apartment. A deduction has been formed. “Are you YN?” Uh oh.

        “Umm, yeah? Who’s asking?”

        “Well son of a bitch,” he grumbles with a snarl, brandishing a key from his pocket. After sticking it in the lock and shouldering open the door, the man drags you into Oikawa’s apartment, which looks like ground zero. Pillows and clothing are strewn everywhere. There’s a table flipped on its side and empty food containers are littered on the ground here and there. In the middle of it all, curled up in a ball and covered in a blanket is a tear-stained Oikawa. His eyes resemble that of a raccoon as he peels them away from the TV he had been watching from his perch on the couch. 

        It’s a soap opera… about two roommates falling in love. Holy shit, he’s broken.

        “Goddamn, Shittykawa, it smells like someone died in here!” The man who tugged you in here waves his hand to disperse the aromatic funk, only to waft it into your face. You hold back a gag.

        “Something did, Iwa.” He makes eye contact with you for a split second before glancing away. “My happiness.” 

        You can hear your heart break at the jab, but “Iwa” only scoffs. 

        “You big sissy,” he folds his arms and raises an unimpressed brow. “Just talk to her and fucking get over it. We’ve needed you at practice for a week now.” Iwa places a hand on your back and shoves you forward through the mess. It’s not a hard push, but it’s enough for you to get the idea. 

        “Call me when you’re done so I can let the team know you’re okay.” Beefcake begins to exit but halts himself with a hand on the door. “Don’t go dark like that ever again, okay Shittykawa? People worry about you, not just your love life. Let us know what’s going on,” he mumbles over his shoulder before disappearing into the hall. 

        When you turn back around, Oikawa is sniffling and wiping his nose while avoiding your gaze. 

        “So…” you trail off awkwardly, standing in the middle of his apartment like a clean lighthouse amongst a beach of crap. 

        “YN, I’m sorry.” Oikawa takes the initiative, but still refuses to look at you. “God, I’m so sorry for what I did. I knew it was a bad idea from the moment I left your bed.” His voice is absolutely ruined. It sounds like every word scrapes past his throat and rubs it raw. He sounds… broken.

        You can hear your heartbeat in your ears as you struggle to breathe at a normal volume. 

        “I just,” he pauses to hide his face in his hands. “I just didn’t know what else to do. With you, yeah it felt different. God, of course it did. It felt amazing. But leaving after was the only thing I knew how to do, no matter what I felt.” 

        His words raise the hair on your arms, and you slowly walk around the random objects, taking your sweet time before you slump down onto the couch beside him.

        “Okay,” you breathe out shakily, eyes also locking on the television. “I get that.” As you chew on the inside of your cheek, you can’t help your gaze straying to his hand. It’s twitching closer and closer to you and you grasp it slowly, interlocking your fingers like long before. His are cold, and in your peripheral vision you can see him smiling at you while you try to warm it up with both hands. 

        “But look,” you pull your legs up onto the couch and swivel to face him, grabbing his other hand and rubbing it in the process, “I’m gonna need a little time to trust you.”

        “That’s okay!” He nods his head frantically and turns to face you as well, copying your position. “I can give you time!” 

        Your lips twitch at his excitement and you shyly glance down at your hands, but your eyes catch on something. The sweatshirt you got him for Christmas. He’s wearing it. Your breath hitches at the sight and Oikawa grows confused, following your gaze down to his clothing choice as well. 

        “Oh. Right.” He forces on a smug smirk. “It’s not that bad now that I’ve tried it on- oof.” You don’t hesitate to yank him into a hug across the couch. To be honest, you were surprised he had kept it. You had expected him to toss it just like you had done to his coupon. Although, to be fair, your gift had already been utilized. 

        With a sigh, you tuck your face into the crook of his neck and drag a hand up into his hair, combing through the tangled strands. Hesitantly, he wraps his arms around your back, then seems to gain a little courage as he suddenly squeezes you ten times harder than your ribs can handle. You don’t mind though.

        “I’m sorry for what I said, too,” you whisper against his neck, pressing a kiss against his skin simply because of the convenience. “I love you.” 

        Oikawa freezes in your hold and digs his fingers into your back. “... I love you too.” You sigh happily into his collarbone, pecking his skin more and more as his breathing grows labored. 

        “YN.” He pulls away just enough that there is a minimal amount of space between your noses. His eyes bore into your own with utter seriousness as he rubs his hands up and down your back calmingly. “I need you to know that after that night, I haven’t been with anyone since.” 

        Abruptly, you pull away and snap your brows together. “Really?”

        “Yes.”

        “What about Sakura?” 

        “Who?” You roll your eyes. 

        “Sakura! The girl you pushed out of your apartment?” His eyes widen in realization and he leans back slightly. 

        “Oh crap, you’re right. She was a nutjob!” You scoff.

        “So you did have sex with her.” 

        “No,” he shakes his head and stares deeply into your eyes so you knew he meant it. “I didn’t. She got ahold of me weeks after I stupidly gave her my number in the first place and I had to kick her out of my house after she barged in.” 

        “Oh really, snookums?” You sneer at him and he only chuckles. 

        “Yeah, buttnugget,” he smirks and bounces his forehead against yours lightly. “I mean it. She was an absolute whacknut, and I blocked her right after she left.” 

        “She was carrying her shoes.”

        “You think I’m gonna let her track mud into my apartment?” You glance around with a disbelieving look and nod your head. 

        “Uh yeah.” Oikawa scoffs and gestures around the living room. 

        “Ok, this,” he points his fingers in emphasis, “was all your doing, sweetheart. Congratulations, you're the second person in the world to break me.” 

        “Second? Aw man, who beat me?” You snicker as he smacks your thigh, offended. Then his face darkens and your smirk falters at the sight. 

        “Is something going on between you and Ushiwaka?” The smirk regains its rightful place and you tug on Oikawa’s cheek teasingly. 

        “Aww, Tooru, are you jealous?” He bats your hand away and pouts at you. 

        “Of course! That emotionless bastard told me to stay away from you. Also, everybody knows roommates always fall for each other!” Your face scrunches up at the thought.

        “Okay, who told you that?” He huffs and points at the TV.

        “Sofia and George fell in love after like two weeks of knowing each other! I mean, yeah, he did put her mother in a coma, but that bitch deserved it!” Your eyes grow to the size of saucers at his theory and you don’t hesitate to click the television off before grabbing his hand and tugging him out of the apartment faster than he can say “telenovela.”

        “What are you doing?”

        “Bringing you back out into the real world, where stepmoms don’t poison their daughter-in-laws over a lost diamond.”  

        “They don’t?!”

                                ***

        The sun is shining, birds are chirping, and once again, thankfully, Oikawa is right by your- oh shit, he’s gone! 

        “Tooru?!” you call out in a panic, feeling around the empty mattress for any sign of where he may have gone. “Tooru?! You son of a bitch, I swear if you left again, I will kick your ass!”

        “YN?” Oikawa peeks his head inside your bedroom, throwing you a confused look. “What are you yelling about?” Oops.

        “I thought your bitch-ass left again.” Your husband rolls his eyes at you.

        “Seriously, YN? It’s been five years, give it a rest will you?” You only stick out your tongue and roll out of bed before waddling over to him. 

        “Never.” You smile sweetly and kiss his cheek while he rubs circles on your stomach. With a shake of his head, he lazily returns your grin and lands a large smooch on your forehead before directing you into the kitchen. 

        “I was making you breakfast by the way.” He sets the plate down in front of you, and it’s a pleasant surprise to notice he’s shirtless and only wearing a “kiss the chef” apron over his glorious six pack. “Pancakes and hot sauce, just like your nasty, pregnancy-craving ass requested.”

        “Mmm, delicious.” You rub your pregnant belly and lick your lips hungrily. “Just like baby Ushiwaka wanted.”

        “I told you that joke isn't funny, YN!”

The Deal (Kuroo x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Kuroo needs your help wooing the pain in the ass cheerleader that’s your lab partner. But what if Kuroo wasn’t actually trying to pursue her?

A/N: Fuck me, it’s five am, why am I still here. I’m tired af, but fuck it, I finally wrote 5k words. I hope y’all like it!

Word count: 5062

        “YN YLN.”

        “Here.”

        Like your previous two years at Nekoma, you expected your final semesters to pass quickly and be relatively painless.

        “Psst, hey Takahashi!” Sadly, your chemistry lab partner’s relentless pursuer made that expectation all but wishful thinking.

        “Kuroo’s trying to get into your pants again,” you relay the message to her and roll your eyes when she releases a high-pitched giggle. 

        Sakura Takahashi was the bubbly captain of the cheer squad. Every day, she awoke with sunshine and rainbows outside her window. Every night, she was cuddled to sleep by a pack of kittens and puppies. Her constant happiness killed your vibe, especially when she would skip into the classroom with a smile brighter than your future and proceed to beg you for yesterday’s homework. She was also gorgeous, with legs for days and endlessly-flowing black hair. You used this to your advantage whenever bullies came around; she was a great distraction. 

        “Oh, isn’t he just so hot!” Takahashi sighs dreamily, biting her lip before glancing over at the bedheaded Casanova on your other side. 

        Tetsurou Kuroo was the captain of the boys’ volleyball club. If something had two legs and walked, you bet your ass he’s put his dick in it. He was a player with a signature smirk to match, and the last target on his fuck-it list for high school was your airhead lab partner. 

        You, on the other hand, were the unlucky wall that sat between their daily sexual tension. No matter how many times you begged Mr. Suzuki to switch partners, desks, or even planets, he wouldn’t let you move. You guessed, in some ways, he was also against the inevitable screwing of the two lovebirds. 

        “We will have a pop quiz tomorrow.” The class groans exasperatedly and the teacher nods along, “Yes, yes, I know. You’re all so busy with your jobs and your overtime and your wives and kids- oh wait,” he narrows his eyes at the class. “Don’t be such whiners. Study what we’ve gone over this week and you’ll do fine. Class dismissed.”

        The bell rings like music to your ears, and you replace it with actual music in your ears, quickly snapping on your headphones and heading out for the day. One of the daily occurrences you’ve caught onto over the past few months is that Kuroo likes to flirt with Takahashi directly over your head. One time, he literally folded his arms on top of your head and leaned over to chat with her. 

        Kuroo was growing to be the bane of your high school existence. 

        Huffing a sigh, you scramble out of the class as fast as humanly possible, not wanting to hear even a lick of today’s banter. However, something seems different at the moment. Kuroo’s not stuck back in Mr. Suzuki’s room with his ass plopped on your desktop. Instead, he’s got a hand wrapped around your upper arm, halting you from a quick escape. 

        “What do you want?” you hiss, tugging yourself away and pulling your headphones down around your neck. He smirks at you and leans in closer to your face. 

        “I think you know exactly what I want.” Totally unphased, you blink at him once while pursing your lips. Suggestively, he waggles his eyebrows at you. 

        “Don’t you dare say it-”

        “Takahashi.”

        “Oh fuck me.”

        “Just give me a time and place, baby.” While he simpers at you, you can only muster a snarl in return. 

        “Don’t call me that.”

        “You got it, Kitten.”

        Scoffing, you turn to walk away, but a hand snags your wrist and spins you right back. Kuroo’s smug look falters at the sight of your furious glare. 

        “Oh, for God’s sake!” You yank your hand out of his grip. “What do you want?” you seethe through your teeth. 

        “Like I said before, I want Takahashi,” he shrugs. You shake your head at him. 

        “My God, you are such a douche.” 

        “Oh c’mon YN, please?” He pouts and folds his hands pleadingly with well-executed puppy-dog eyes. You wonder how many girls that’s worked on before. 

        “Why should I help you?” With a deadpan look, you fold your arms indignantly. 

        “Because I know you’re a 4.0 student,” your lips quirk at this, “and I also know you suck at chemistry.” The trump card widens your eyes and you waver for just a second.

        “Pshh, how do you know that?” Your recovery is about as smooth as sandpaper.

        “Did you forget that you almost burned Suzuki’s eyebrows off in front of the whole class?” Eye twitching at the memory, you give in. 

        “Fine, what do you want me to do?” 

        “I thought you’d never ask.”

                                ***

        “I think sodium needs to go in there.” 

        “Okay.” 

        It’s the first day of your deal, and while you didn’t believe Kuroo at first when he said Takahashi was a stickler, you guessed you understood it now. After all, you had never seen them go any farther than words. Not that you wanted to see anything more, because gross. 

        In the end, Kuroo wanted to woo her like the sixties, and the first idea on his agenda was a classic. 

        “All right, now add a drop of water,” you instruct, watching carefully to make sure she doesn’t implode the entire school. A sudden jab in your side makes you choke on nothing and you glare over at your partner in crime. 

        ‘Do it!’ he mouths, frantically waving at you to get a move on. Revenge is a priority to you, however, so you rear back and smack his arm with a glare. Satisfied at the awkward squawk that escapes his mouth, you swivel back to your lab monkey and brace for social discomfort.

        “So, uh, Takahashi, do you like flowers?” 

        “What?” She shifts her gaze from the liquid-filled beakers to your face and flinches at the sight of your stiff, forced smile. You’re baring your teeth like a chimpanzee preparing to die, but Takahashi takes this in another direction. She’s a birdbrain, remember?

        “Oh, YN, I’m sorry,” She smiles pityingly at you and pats your shoulder in what she believes is a comforting way. The sound of her acrylic nails scraping your uniform actually makes your skin crawl and you lean away from the touch, still smiling like a maniac. “I just don’t feel that way about you.” 

        A muffled cackle sounds from behind you while your face falls. “Oh,” you mutter, teeth gnawing against each other. “That’s not really what I meant-”

        “It’s just that I’m kind of into guys.” She surveys your expression for any sign of a breakdown, but the only thing she spots is your nostrils flaring. Chuckles are still rumbling in the desk beside you.

        “Yeah, Takahashi, that’s okay,” you emphasize with a nod and wide eyes. “Now what fucking flowers do you like?” 

        “Oh!” Like a child with toys, she is instantly distracted from the painful previous events. The bell rings while she taps her chin, and she lifts her bag over her shoulder while responding, “I quite like petunias!”

        While she exits the classroom, you spin in your seat to face Romeo. 

        “She likes petunias.” You’re practically foaming at the mouth, and Kuroo’s cheeks are burning from his front row seat to the show. 

        “Well thanks for that.” He snickers and you flip him the bird while gathering your things. “Oh, and YN?”

        “Hmm?” 

        He pushes in his chair before winking at you. “I would have paid to see that,” he whispers. 

        “Fucking perv!” 

                                ***

        Two more weeks have passed of you being Kuroo’s sidekick in Operation: Smash and Dash and he keeps half-assing his part. Either that or he’s a shit teacher. 

        “Oh, come on YN, you aren’t that stupid. Surely you know the formula for…” his voice blends with the crickets chirping outside of his window as you zone out. Takahashi still acts the same with him, you still sit and stew in the middle of the pair, and Kuroo keeps begging you to help him get her. Nothing has changed, so what was the point of even trying to continue-

        “YN!” Your teacher, “Mr. Kuroo” as the creep prefers to be called, snaps his fingers in front of your face. “Pay attention in class!” You lazily drag your eyes away from the moon and yawn in his direction. You’re laying flat on your stomach on his carpet and he sits across from you cross-legged with a finger incessantly tapping on your textbook.

        “This isn’t a class, and you’re a terrible teacher, Kuroo.” 

        “Mr. Kuroo to you, Kitten.” He winks and pushes his glasses up his face before running a hand through his rat’s nest. Scoffing, you roll over and stare at his ceiling, only to get patted on the nose with a ruler. 

        “Ow,” you grumble, rubbing the injured area. “You’re an abusive teacher too.” 

        “Only to bad students.” His words cause a palpable shift. The atmosphere of the room suddenly grows ten times more intense and you trace your fingers on the ground nervously. Ever so slowly, Kuroo places two hands on either side of your head, effectively trapping you. He leans over you, and even though he’s upside down, his smirk still manages to take your breath away. 

        “Are you a bad student, Kitten?” 

        Oh, so that’s how he gets all the girls. Interesting. 

        You scoff abruptly and push his face away while he releases a surprised “mfphm!” Ignoring the heat that has blossomed on every inch of your body, you sit back up and pivot to confront him. The textbook between you is no longer forgotten as you snatch it up and point to a random page while avoiding his gaze. 

        “I don’t understand this.”

        “I don’t understand you,” he grumbles under his breath, accepting the book and adjusting his glasses with a twitching jaw. 

        “Excuse me?” 

        “This problem’s easy,” he stares at you from above the rims, “I thought you were a good student?” 

        “I am smarter than you and your bloodline will ever be, dillweed.” With a huff, you cross your arms and avoid his sceptical gaze. “I just… don’t understand the question.” 

        “It’s simple chemistry!” 

        “Yeah, well I just don’t get it! I’m not familiar with this kind of chemistry….”

        Kuroo’s eyes twinkle at your admission and he scoots just a tad closer. “Then I’ll just have to teach you.”

                                ***

        “YN!” Kuroo whisper-yells your name during the middle of notes and you choose to ignore him. 

        “Psst, YN!” He’s louder this round, capturing more pairs of eyes than your own. Luckily, you both sit in the back of the class so the teacher can barely hear you. The feeling of Takahashi’s gaze urges you to continue the ruse, and you bite your lip while squinting at the marked-up white board. This must be how your mom feels before she turns her radio down so she can “see the road.” 

        Sadly, your effort in focusing diminishes in an instant when your carefree cohort brandishes his weapon of choice: a pencil. As he prepares to land a devastating blow to your side, you seize the offender, accidentally brushing his hand during the event, and snap it in two before setting it back on his desk calmly. 

        Kuroo gawks at you in your peripheral vision before lightly muttering “Rude!” 

        “Hehe, loser,” you snicker before sticking your tongue out at him. 

        “YLN!” Mr. Suzuki places his hands on his hips as he shakes his head at you. “Please stop distracting Kuroo and Takahashi!” 

        “Sorry sir!” you nervously respond, hurriedly grabbing your own pencil and returning to your paper. The words still haunt you, as you have always hated being scolded by others. As they repeat like a chorus in your head, you finally catch on one name. Wait, Takahashi? With a gulp, you barely tilt your head to get a glimpse of your lab partner. Her jaw is clenched and her eyes are lit like an angered bonfire. 

        Woah, what’s up with her? You keep your gaze on her even as the bell chimes out, signalling the end of class. She seems unlike her usual self as she shoves her papers into her backpack before zipping it up and stomping out into the hall. Now that you think about it, she hasn’t asked for your homework in a while either…. I wonder if something happened-

        “YN, finally you can pay attention to me now!” Kuroo slams his hands down on your desk and leers over you. 

        “Wow, sounds like you’re getting a little needy,” you relax back into your chair and cross your arms. “Didn’t know you liked me that much.”

        “Neither did I.”

        “What?”

        “Anyways,” he waves his hands dismissivley, avoiding your eyes to take a seat at Takahashi’s desk, “I was thinking that since we already have to spend so much time together because you’re shit at school-”

        “It’s just chemistry!” He places a hand over your mouth to stop your vexed screech. 

        “-I was thinking,” he continues, “you should become our team manager so you don’t have to walk over to my house all the time. It’s kinda dangerous, don’t you think?” Like anybody would, you lick his hand in an effort to drive him away, but he raises his eyebrows back, quirking up a corner of his mouth.

        You sneer in disgust at his action before shoving his hand away. “Fucking perv.”

        “I prefer to think of it as sexy, but back to the less-fun topic. What do you think?” There’s something unfamiliar about his face; it seems almost… apprehensive in a way. Shaking away the thought, you tap your chin contemplatively at his proposal. 

        “I mean, I guess that’s a good idea,” his eyes glimmer at your words and his knee starts to bounce, “Plus my mom would like how safe it is. Sure, I guess I could do that,” you shrug at last and Kuroo’s face lights up. 

        “Sounds good,” his voice is surprisingly nonchalant compared to his body language, “I’ll introduce you to the coaches and get this show on the road.” 

        “Sounds good,” you parrot, grabbing your bag before you’re suddenly smacked with a memory. “Hey wait!” You capture Kuroo’s rather muscular bicep in your grasp to stop him from leaving. As he looks at you, his eyes glimmer with something akin to mischief. “How are things going with Takahashi?”

        His face falls and he glances down at your hand, which you swiftly pull away from his arm like he burned you. 

        “Sorry,” you mutter, shifting from side to side on your feet, “it’s just that I haven’t seen you two talk in a while. Did something happen?” 

        Kuroo’s nose wrinkles before he plasters a smirk on his face, casually settling a hand on his hip. “Nothing you need to worry about. Although, now that I think about it, I could use some more advice.” You smile in relief and nod your head. Even though you had initially hated the pair, Kuroo was slowly becoming your friend, and you were glad nothing had deterred him from his goal. It was still a goal that repulsed you, sure, but you wanted to help him. You wanted to keep helping him. 

        “Of course, what’s up?”

        “What are some things that girls like to do on dates and stuff? You know, if you could try to think like a normal girl for a second.” Your jaw drops with a gasp while he bursts into a maniacal cackle, and you don’t hesitate to smack his chest harshly. 

        “You’re such a dick!”

        “And you’re painful, oww!” Smiling victoriously at the sight of him rubbing his stomach, you ignore his pout in favor of placing your chin in your hand. 

        “I don’t really know, I guess. I kind of don’t have experience…” you trail off when you remember who you’re talking to. Kuroo glances up at you confused before he processes your words and his mouth forms an “o.”

        “Aww, YN, am I gonna have to show you what a first date is like?” he simpers.

        “No! Shut up! Just buy her more petunias and you’ll be fine!” You try to escape the room as fast as possible, but Kuroo’s lanky body blocks the exit, arms and legs both spread out to cover the area. 

        “Oh c’mon, I was just kidding,” he chuckles dismissively. “Now that I think about it, what flowers do you like?”

        “Are there any flowers that you’re allergic to?” 

        “Ouch, gee YN you’re feisty today.” He waggles a finger at you. “I bet you’re more of a rose girl anyways. You seem like the type to….” You’ve mastered the skill of zoning out Kuroo’s incessant rambling as you observe him from multiple angles. You even squat down to see if you could wiggle out through his legs. Nope. Looks like it’s going to be a straight take down.

        You take a few steps back and kick your feet like a bull. It’s your lucky day too; Kuroo’s wearing his red volleyball jacket, and he makes a perfect target. His mouth is still chattering nonstop, but you can tell his face is growing more and more confused at your reaction. Finally, when you feel like you’ve revved up enough, you make your move. 

        “Chargeeee!” 

        Kuroo falls to the ground in the hallway with an “oof” and you land on top of him, one leg on either side of his torso. 

        “What the hell, Kitten?!” The nickname slips out in the heat of the moment but you don’t bother to correct him. Instead, you pat the side of his face and clamber off him, not hesitating to use his sturdy chest as a boost onto your feet. You're still towering over him, and Kuroo’s face flushes at a certain display you're giving him. You haven’t even noticed; you’re still pounding on your chest like a gorilla while hooting nonsensically to celebrate your triumph. 

        “Umm, YN?”

        “I’m pretty sure that’s what rugby is like.”

        “Hey Kitten.”

        “I would be amazing at that sport, let’s be honest.” You step away and off to the side, only to peer down curiously at a tomato-themed Kuroo whose eyes are completely unfocused. 

        “Umm, did I tackle you too hard?” You wave a hand in front of his face, but he doesn’t move a muscle. “Hey Rooster, did I break you?”

        “YN?”

        “Yeah?”

        “You do know you’re wearing a skirt, right?” You chuckle. 

        “Umm yeah, Kuroo, they’re kind of mandatory.” 

        “Oh good, I’m just making sure you’re fully aware of what just happened.” Your forehead creases as you tug him up onto his feet. 

        “What do you mean? I just took you out like a pro-footballer, what are you talking about?” 

        “Nothing, Kitten,” he sniggers, ruffling your hair before you bat his hand away. “I’ll talk to the coaches about letting you manage, okay?”

        “Okay,” you nod, still confused, “just be sure to get checked for a concussion too. You’re acting weird.”

        “Aye aye, captain.” He mockingly salutes with a smug smile before walking away. Those words, however, they were… familiar. 

        Oh shit. You gasp in horror. “You saw my Spongebob underwear?!”

        “Aww, don’t be one of those girls, YN,” he calls out, discreetly speeding up his strides, “They’re called panties.”

        “You sick fuck!”

                                ***

        You never realized how often Kuroo practiced until you became the volleyball manager. It was every night, and more often than not, you got tired just watching them. 

        “Five more laps, boys!” 

        However, you did have to admit Kuroo was noticeably different during these times. He was less of a womanizer and more of a leader, and you couldn’t help but wonder if any girls he had been with had seen this side of him. In this way, he seemed more redeemable, more worth knowing. 

        “YN, can you grab us some waters?” Just as whiny, though. 

        You were still attempting to get used to the feeling of being called upon like a waitress every two minutes. The sweaty boys asked for this and that, and you missed the days when you had first met them. Weeks ago, they used to fall at your feet and offer to do everything for you. It felt good to be the center of attention, although apparently Kuroo gave them a stern talking to at some point, and now they don’t even dare to speak to you. Shame. 

        “Hey, Kitten,” the captain jogged over to you, slowly wiping the sweat off his face with a towel you instinctively tossed him the minute he approached. “We’re finished up now, are you ready to go?”

        “Oh, sorry Tetsu, I guess I forgot to tell you,” you wave away his offer and smile apologetically, “I’m actually going out with someone tonight, so we can take the night off chemistry. You’re off the hook for the day.” Honestly, you expected him to be pleased. He seemed to get more frustrated with you recently, even though you were understanding more and more of the topics in the textbook. But his reaction was… explosive, to say the least. 

        “What?! Who the fuck asked you out?! Who?!” With narrowed eyes, he scrutinized your face with folded, bulky arms. You flinch at his sudden outburst, and so does the rest of the team. Throwing a reassuring smile their way, you pull Kuroo over into an emptier corner of the gym to discuss the matter privately.

        “Hey, crazy, calm it. It’s not a date date, it’s just a hang out,” you shrug.

        “With who?” he growls. 

        You raise a brow at the act before rolling your eyes. “My God, Tetsurou, I’m just going to hang out with Takahashi! She said she wanted to talk about something-”

        “No!” He instantly grabs you by your shoulders at the words. “Don’t go. You can’t talk to her.” 

        “Why not?” His overreactions are concerning you, and you slowly peel off his grip before asking, “Did something happen between you two?”

        “No! Never!”

        “Never? Do you still need help?”

        “No!” He exclaims once more and you give him a look that tells him to shut his piehole just a bit. With a huff, he nods in understanding and lowers his tone. “No, I don’t really need your help anymore. Not with her.”

        “Oh,” your face falls and you bite your lip, “So does that mean we can’t hang out anymore?”

        “No!”

        “Is that your favorite word?”

        “N-” he cuts himself off in a scoff before shaking his head at you. “No,” he snickers, “it’s not, Kitten. Just, be careful with Takahashi, all right?”

        “Okay dad.” You roll your eyes.

        “It’s Daddy to you, Kitten.”

        “Shut up, you perv!” You smack his chest with a giggle and he chuckles along with you. Glancing at the clock on the wall, you huff at the time and murmur, “Hey, I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He nods with a solemn smile.

        “All right, Kitten-”

        “YN.”

        “-Kitten, be careful.” For the first time in your life, you see Kuroo hug someone. And it’s you. His slim but powerful arms wrap around your waist and he tugs you into his warm, sweaty chest, ducking his head into your neck and sniffing your hair. You would say it’s weird, but you regrettably do the same. 

        “Ok, Tetsu, I gotta be honest. I like this, but you smell.” Your phone buzzes in your back pocket just as he pulls away with a cackle. Smiling at him, you grab it and see Takahashi’s name on the front. 

        “Hello?” you answer, stepping away from him with one finger held up as you wait for a response. 

        “You’re late, so I guess I’ll just have to skip out on the whole fake hang out thing.”

        “Takahashi? Are you okay?”

        “I’m perfectly fine, YN,” her voice is lower than normal, the bubbly, cheery tone is completely nonexistent. “I just wanted you to know that Kuroo and I slept together, so you should probably stop trying to flirt with him from now on.”

        Your face falls at her words, and Kuroo mouths a concerned question at you. You don’t dare to decipher it; instead, you turn away and face the wall. 

        “Is that right?” you mutter, your own tone lifeless. 

        “You better believe it sweetheart, so just give up. We’re going to become a couple soon, just you watch. Especially at the assembly tomorrow, when we walk together on the stage.” 

        “Oh yeah?”

        “Yep, and those loving looks he gave you during class? Newsflash, YN, those were for me, you were just in the way-” You hang up with pursed lips and peel your phone away from your ear, staring at it blankly. 

        “Kitten, are you okay?” 

        Your chest feels empty, and your heartbeat slows in your upset. 

        “YN?”

        “How long?” You turn around and drag your eyes up your form to face him. 

        “Excuse me?” Kuroo steps closer and you let him, but he doesn’t move to touch you.

        “How long have you been leading me on?”

        “I don’t-”

        “How long have you been sleeping with Takahashi?” You felt like you just got cheated on, even though you had offered earlier to help him with her. You guessed, in some strange way, you hoped it was never really her you were helping him woo. 

        You were wrong.

        Kuroo’s eyes widen at your question, but he quickly tames himself, taking a deep breath and licking his lips. 

        “It was just one time.” God, it was true. “Before I asked for your help.”

        “Wait, what?” You stumble back a step and stare up at him perplexedly. 

        “I thought,” he sighs once more, “I thought that if I asked for your help and hanged around you enough that she would get the gist and leave me alone like the others. But she didn’t. She just kept calling me.”

        “So… you used me?” You were hurt, but in a whole different way now. Your heart stuttered at his confession, but now it panged with remorse. 

        “At first, yeah,” he nods, approaching you once more before looking into your eyes deeply. “But then, I guess at some point I just,” he takes one more deep breath to prepare himself for something, “I guess I just fell in love with you.” 

        Slapping your palm against your forehead, you scoff, “This is fucked up, Kuroo.”

        “I know,” he nods in agreement. Against your better judgement, you pocket your phone and give him one last hug. The breath in his lungs forces its way out of him and you pull away before he can return it. 

        “I need time to think, okay?”

        Shakily, he backs away and allows you the room to leave. “Okay.” 

        The doors whoosh closed after you exit and make your way home alone. Inside the darkened, locked up gym, Kuroo slowly picks up the stray volleyballs, not hesitating to hurl them at the wood panelling with loud grunts of fury while he finally takes out his frustration. After he runs out of ammo and his arm grows tired, he runs a hand through his wild tufts. 

        “Fucking shit. What am I gonna do, Kitten?”

                                ***

        The assembly was loud and cheerful. Nobody around you knew what went down inside that gym just a single day earlier. In the crowd of third years you were corralled in, you occasionally caught glimpses of the other volleyball boys your age, but no Kuroo. He was supposed to announce their victory, and their succession to state today. And the one to walk him up the stage was no other than Takahashi. 

        You’re dragged out of your self-deprecating, Rooster-filled thoughts by the sound of the principal clearing his throat in the microphone. It causes a loud whine that pierces your’s and everyone else’s eardrums, but you don’t have enough will to gasp and whimper like they do. Instead, your eyes lock on the pairs of people who have just arrived. One cheerleader to one sport captain, and at the end of the line is Kuroo, who is snarling and leaning away from Takahashi attached to his hip.

        The sight makes your lips twitch, and your gaze seems to have an effect on him, because his head instantly whips around in search of something, only to lock on you as he smiles softly. You only nod back and take your seat in the bleachers along with the other third years. 

        Time passes slowly as you wait and wait for the assembly to end. You almost consider ditching just as Kuroo’s turn comes up, but his actions stop you. As soon as he strides up the stairs to the stage, he wriggles his arm out and away from Takahashi. Then, he plucks the microphone out of the flabbergasted principal’s hand and taps it twice. 

        “This thing’s on, right?” The principal nods, completely discombobulated by your Rooster. 

        “Sweet, okay. YN!” His eyes search the crowd of grouped third years as your name echoes around the gym. They brighten when he spots you once more and he swings around to face you. While you want to seem calm and collected, the number of eyes now locked on you leaves you a blushing mess. 

        “Hey Kitten,” he waggles his eyebrows cheekily while holding out his hand, “Will you be my girlfriend?” The crowd falls to a hush and an uncontrollable smile takes over your face. 

        “Well?” He moves his finger in a “come hither” motion with a wink, and it has you coming down the steps of the stands in a trance-like state, pushing past your fellow classmates and occasionally mumbling apologies. With a hop, you land on the gym floor and approach him as he does the same for you. 

        “What do I get out of it?” you ask with a smugly raised brow. Kuroo grins back at you deviously. 

        “I suppose I could help you with your chemistry homework,” he steps closer and leans into your face. “You know, ‘cause you suck at it.” You can’t help but snort and bite your lip. Then you whisper three words and pull him in for a kiss that has the crowd cheering. 

        “It’s a deal.”

If It Ain’t Broke (Bokuto x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: You broke up with Bokuto for a good reason. At least, what you thought was a good reason. But right now you can’t help but miss him terribly, and according to Akaashi, he’s feeling the exact same. But did you really break him like his friend said?

A/N: Did y’all know Bokuto is 6’1”? God, he’s a fucking dreamboat. How some people don’t like his beefy ass, I will never know. I’m just gonna warn y’all now, this is only well-written bc I had my cat by my side literally the whole time I wrote this. He’s given off fuckin’ good-writing vibes, I swear. Anyways, hope y’all enjoy!

Word count: 2299

        “Fix him.” You flinch as a palm slams down on your desk, crumpling your assignment. Unimpressed, you raise a brow. 

        “Excuse me?” With a glance --- Akaashi --- you huff and turn to face the intruder.

        “Fix him. You broke him.”

        “Broke who?”

        “Bokuto!” Your classmate’s sudden outburst is unlike his usual, aloof self as he throws his hands in the air. “I can’t remember the last time he hit one of my sets after you talked to him.”

        “Maybe that’s not my problem,” you snicker. 

        “Oh hardy har har.” He rolls his eyes before lowering himself to your level. “Just fix him. We have a game coming up and our team can’t handle another depressed Bokuto phase. We almost lost the last one because of him.” 

        You wanted to make another snide comment, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. After breaking up with your owl-haired boyfriend, every sighting of him, even the mention of his name pained your heart. One time, you had spotted him at the same time he noticed you in the hall and he only whimpered before sprinting in the opposite direction. Most of the time, you regretted ending things, but you had to respect your own feelings. Although maybe, just maybe this once you could do the boys’ volleyball team a solid. 

        “Fine,” you avoided his gaze and fiddled with your hands. “I’ll talk to him. But don’t expect it to make everything all sunshine and rainbows afterwards!” 

        “C’mon YN,” he smirks at you, “we both know that’ll be inevitable.” 

        That smug bastard was always right.

                                ~~~

        You attended their practice that night, attempting to sit in the corner discreetly but that plan didn’t pan out. The second Bokuto walked through the gym doors it was like he caught a whiff of your scent. Some kind of animal instincts inside of him awakened as his eyes darted around the room, quickly spotting you with your legs splayed out as you tapped away on your phone against the wall. Not a sound of acknowledgement was made, but the impact of your presence was instantaneous. 

        Like a true captain, he took charge of his team right off the bat, even though practice wouldn’t start for another twenty minutes. 

        “Time for stretching, boys!” 

        “Bokuto, nobody’s dressed yet.”

        “Then hurry up!” 

        Every jump was a tad higher, every spike a tad harder, and near the middle of practice Akaashi gave you a pointed look. 

        ‘I told you so,’ he mouthed while dodging a stray volleyball of Bokuto’s. Your middle finger was raring to go, but you held back with much personal restraint. There was no way your ex was this pumped only at the sight of you- oh wait, this is Bokuto. Nevermind. 

        “Akaashi, set me up one more time!” The ace’s eyes strayed to you for a split second before he ran up and jumped, rearing back and spiking the ball so intensely you shivered at the sound. How did it not pop after that? It was his hardest hit yet, and a miniscule ounce of pride warmed your chest when Bokuto turned and grinned at you. 

        “Hey, hey, hey!” he fist-pumped, returning his attention to his team. For the last thirty minutes of practice, they decided to work on serves, and the outcome was just the same. 

        The hair on the back of your neck raised as you watched his bulky form take a couple purposeful steps before smack! The ball whistled through the air and landed perfectly in the corner of the court, blasting the water bottle away like a rocket into a forgotten area of the gym. His signature shout was interrupted by a sudden voice by your side. 

        “He hasn’t been like this in weeks,” Akaashi squatted next to you, taking a sip from his water. “I don’t understand how you got him so hyped up, but I’m glad.” He glances away from the court and watches your face from the corner of his eye, flashing you a small smile. “I’m glad you came today. We needed this.” 

        “I just came to watch, nothing more.”

        “We both know that’s a lie.” He quirks a brow at your slightly flushed face. “Just talk to him this time, okay? He’s not-”

        “Akaashi!” Bokuto orders from the far benches, “Come set for me again!” His voice is more demanding than usual, and his eyes burn with jealousy. The setter only chuckles under his breath at the sight of the green-eyed monster, and stands to face him. 

        “I will,” you grab his hand to halt him and stare into his eyes, nodding with certainty, “I promise. I’ll talk to him.”

        “AKAASHI!” You both jump at the abrupt, irritable shout. Frantically, the setter nods back at you and wriggles his hand out of your grasp before jogging away, visibly shaken. With a gulp, you dare to peek over at the court, only to nervously shift on the floor after making eye contact with Bokuto. His orbs, normally yellow and glowing with excitement, are dark and pouring with envy. Pursing your lips, you can’t help but slump a little lower against the gym wall, hesitantly trying to hide yourself from the palpable heat that rolls off him in waves. 

                                ~~~

        Practice ended quicker and louder than you imagined. Everything the ball made contact with-- Bokuto’s hand, the floor, that one door that flew open after impact-- it all created a sound that boomed and echoed around the room. Akaashi decided to call it quits after the door almost blew off its hinges. 

        Bokuto silently picked up stray volleyballs and loaded them up in the basket before wheeling them into the storage room. It was around this time that the co-captain of the team gave you the signal. With about four or five frenzied head nods towards the private closet, you finally caught his drift and made your way over. 

        The stench of sweat made you nauseous, but you powered through as you walked nearer to the boys, ignoring how their chatter had subsided when you shuffled past them. 

        The room was dark and dusty, with the only light coming from the outside. Bokuto perked up at the sound of your tennis shoes squeaking against the mopped floor. He parks the bucket of balls in an unlit corner next to some brooms before facing you.

        “You came today. I was surprised.” His voice is wobbly and uncertain, and you’re shocked to finally notice just how ruffled he appeared. The normally wild hair atop his head sat in drooping grey and black tufts, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He flashes a small smile at you, but it’s forced and trembling. He was coming off the high of you watching him practice just like the old days, and he’s regretablly remembering that the old days have passed. You broke up with him. 

        “Yeah, I did.” You sway back and forth on your feet while twiddling your thumbs. Pursing your lips, you take a hesitant step closer and say, “I thought you did great, by the way.”

        The life returns to his eyes for a split second, but it disappears just as fast. “Thank you,” he mumbles. The room returns to a deafening silence, and you bite the inside of your cheek to pass the time. 

        “Why,” he pipes up once more, killing the quiet. “Why did we have to break up again?” His arms hang limply at his sides while his feet scuff the floor. He didn’t dare to look you in the eyes at the moment, and you understood the feeling. The atmosphere was tense and choked up, like a glass teetering precariously on the edge of a table. One wrong move and everything would shatter. 

        “Because,” you force out, breathing shakily, “you just… you just never had enough time for me.”

        “But I do now!” The cup falls. Everything breaks. 

        “Do you?” you whimper, pressing a hand against your lips to contain a sob. He steps closer instinctively, eyes watering at the sight of your walls collapsing.

        “I do, I swear!” His rough hands grab your shoulders and yank you closer. His golden orbs search your face one, two, three times before he leans closer. “I promise, YN! Please, I promise!” His strong fingers trail down and grasp your wrists, tugging you into his chest while he pulls your arms around his back, free of their own volition. You don’t deny his needs and melt into the embrace, shedding a few stray tears into his shirt which you clutch tightly.  

        “I promise,” he whispers once more into your hair, wrapping his own muscular arms around your shaky form. “I don’t want to be without you ever again.” His voice trembles against your ear, and you begin to notice just how much your body missed his own. You fit perfectly against his chest, and his warmth makes you feel just right. Your heart races in a good way, and the pit of your stomach fills with a joy only he can provide effortlessly. You were made for each other, and you were perfect for each other. 

        Oh shit… you were perfect for each other. 

        “Okay,” you whisper, nodding into his shirt. “Okay, let’s give it another shot.” The reaction is instantaneous. 

        “Hey, hey, hey!” he whoops victoriously into your ear, hugging just tight enough that the only sound you can muster is a wheeze. You hang on for dear life when he lifts you up and spins you around while cheering even louder.

        The atmosphere of the room grows ten times softer and brighter thanks to his beaming, and his hands trail down to the backs of your thighs and tap twice. You understand and hop with complete faith that he will catch you, and you will continue to do that until he drops you one day, which is highly unlikely. In a seasoned fashion, you wrap your legs around his waist and wind your arms around his neck for stability. He settles his hands under the tips of your thighs and stares up at you like you’re the light of his life. You wouldn’t mind if he kept doing that forever. 

        “I missed you so much,” he admits, completely unashamed. You can’t contain your smile, even though your cheeks are a bit puffy from your breakdown earlier, and your eyes crease at the corners. 

        “I missed you too.” 

        “I won’t leave you alone ever again. I swear!” You giggle and run your hands behind his neck and into his nape, just barely brushing through his hair.

        “Okay,” you nod happily and stroke his peppered tufts. “I’ll hold you to that.”

                                ~~~

        A body crashes into the desk next to yours, but you don’t pay it any mind. 

        “Whatcha doin’?” The voice is playful and overjoyed, ecstatic even. 

        “Homework.” Your response is the opposite. 

        “Awesome!” Bokuto cheers, grabbing the attention of the rest of the class. While you palm your face, he loudly scooches his chair closer, ignorant to the noisy squeaks it causes. The racket finally stops when he deems himself an appropriate distance from you, which just so happens to be a roomy six inches. The only thing more palpable than his presence is the warm breaths hitting your neck. 

        “It’s homework.” 

        “I know, but you’re doing it, so it must be amazing!” You didn’t know whether to smack him silly or kiss his lips off. Neither idea seemed more desirable at the moment.

        He’s practically bouncing in his seat beside you while his head plops down onto your shoulder. 

        “I think x equals six,” he points down on your paper, chin bobbing on your collarbone with every syllable. 

        “X equals two.”

        “Oh.” 

        His grin doesn’t falter even once while he basks in your less-than-satisfied presence. You’re about to blow your top, and you just can’t take it any longer. 

        “What are you doing here, Koutarou?”

        “I’m spending more time with you like you wanted!” You sigh exasperatedly and glance up at the ceiling.

        “Kou, I meant more like after-school stuff! This,” you turn in your seat and gesture to him, “you sneaking into my class to visit while my teacher’s in the bathroom?” You shake your head. “It’s a bit excessive.”

        He throws you a whiny pout at puppy dog eyes.

        “But I wanted to see you!” Your hardened exterior cracks just a bit. God, he was an irresistible, beefy pain in the ass. With a huff, you cup his cheeks and peer into his sparkling eyes.

        “I know,” you smile reassuringly, “I wanted to see you too. But you need to go back before-”

        “Bokuto!” Your teacher stands in the doorway with folded arms and a tapping shoe. “Please return to your classroom right now!” Your boyfriend chuckles at the sight and spins up out of his seat.

        “Oops, gotta go babe!” He presses a swift kiss to your lips that rattles your brain and widens your eyes. With a breathless gasp, you watch as he dashes out of the room with a cheeky grin, waving excitedly on the way.

        “At least he’s fixed now.” Akaashi reclaims his chair and sits at his desk beside yours, observing as the class door closes with a slam. The teacher shakes his head and rubs his temples while returning to the front of the class, shuffling a stack of papers. 

        You, on the other hand, are still in a daze, slowly running your fingers over your lips to revel in the lasting tingles. Then you break out into a smile. 

        “Yeah. He’s fixed now.”

Petty Competition (Kageyama x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: After you get a new pet in your home, Kageyama can’t help but feel a little neglected after a while. It’s all Snickers’ fault.

A/N: Thank you all so much for 400 followers! I’m so glad so many people like my stuff! Here’s a funny little imagine I got an idea for from this prompt by @otpdisaster​ once again. I hope you guys like it! Thanks again!

Word count: 1078

        Kageyama has never been the best of friends with your new pet Snickers. 

        “Hey YN-”

        “Woof!” 

        “Shut the fuck up!”

        Snickers was an innocent golden retriever puppy, but your boyfriend just knew his father was Satan, and he was bred in the seventh depth of hell. 

        “Tobio, he hasn’t done anything, just leave him be,” you would scold before allowing the dog to shamble up into your lap. Innocent, my ass, Kageyama would think while watching you pet him. Ever since you got the dog, he took up all your attention, all your time. Well, on the other hand, it’s not like your boyfriend needed constant affection but… oh fuck it, who was he kidding. He was jealous over a damn puppy. 

        “He’s glaring at me, look!” Kageyama points an accusing finger and sneers at the dog, who returns the look before tucking its head back into your lap. With a raised brow, you shake your head at your boyfriend and scratch behind Snickers’ ears. 

        “Stop being so ridiculous, babe,” you roll your eyes before lowering your face to the inhabitant of your lap. “You’re not evil, are you?” You smile widely at the sight of his tail wagging rapidly while he pants in your face. “Oh no you’re not, no you’re not! You’re a good boy!”

        Kageyama narrows his eyes at the gut-churning scene before him and glances away with a scoff. The demon spawn currently reveling in all your love looks over and makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like snort all the while trying to lick your face. 

        “YN, did you hear that?!” Kageyama jumps up from his seat and waggles his finger at the pet, “That smug bastard just laughed at me!” You ignore him in favor of lifting your puppy in the air and hugging him close to your chest. The love fest currently happening on the sofa across from him lasts for quite a while, and your boyfriend can only stew in his own anger in the meantime. Then, finally he comes up with a distraction technique. It was perfect!

        “Love.” You perk up at the nickname. It’s only used on rare occasions, when Kageyama is nearly dying inside from a lack of affection. Right now, he feels pretty desperate. Desperate enough to whip out that trump card, at least. “How about we watch a movie, hmm?” His eyes are dark, and the synthetic smile on his face evokes a chill down your spine. 

        “Umm, okay,” you gulp and slowly set down your dog, who lightly whines at the action. Kageyama smirks, only chipping at the tip of the revenge iceberg. “What movie?” Your voice is tight, but you’re not exactly as nervous as you sound. He can tell by the way you bite your lip. 

        “You choose, love.” His whisper warms the pit of your stomach, and you nod as if in a trance. 

        “Okay,” you repeat, getting up and turning to leave the room. Snickers pops right up and begins to follow you, only for you to usher him back. 

        “Stay here, boy,” you pat the top of his soft, fuzzy head, “I’ll be quick.” With a smile at your dog and a blush at Kageyama’s parting wink, you exit your living room in search of the night’s entertainment. 

        Now, it wasn’t often that your boyfriend had a day off practice to spend the night with you, so he had to make every second count. A movie was the perfect opportunity to soak up all the love you could provide. At least, that always used to be the case before you adopted the leech. He couldn’t remember the last time you ran your fingers through his hair instead of Snickers’ while he relaxed on your lap. 

        “You’re not winning this,” he hisses at the snarling scoundrel on your carpet, lifting up out of his seat to reinforce his glare. 

        “Woof!” The dog bites back, plopping his rump down directly in front of Kageyama’s feet and staring back up at him with endless, black pupils. “Woof, woof!” 

        “Woof, yourself!” Kageyama barks back, baring his teeth threateningly. Snickers’ rears back on his paws and lifts his butt into the air, shaking his behind anxiously while he growls. 

        “Woof, woof!”

        “Woof, woof to you too!” The resident human in the room slips off his armchair and drops onto the ground, crossing his legs and engaging in a completely justified, but overall nonsensical, argument. 

        “Ruff!”

        “Ruff you, you furry fuck!” 

        Snickers huffs in his face and barks louder, splashing dog drool every which way. Kageyama gags at the feeling and frantically wipes it away while jeering at the sac of fur.

        “Eww! Gross, you lumpy bastard!”

        “Woof!” Snickers places his paws into the volleyball player’s lap and yelps in his face. In return, the boy bonks his forehead against the dog’s own and returns the shout. 

        Five minutes pass. Nothing changes. 

        “Ruff! Ruff, ruff!” the puppy rumbles. 

        “Right back at you, you son of a bitch!” Kageyama grumbles back, his tone deep and frustrated. He presses his face closer into Snickers’ soft snoot. “You fluffy-faced, attention-stealing piece of-”

        “What the hell are you two doing?” Both rivals stand at attention at the sound of your voice, separating and spinning to face you. Your face is scrunched up in utter confusion at the happenings on your living room floor. The skin under your eye twitches and a vein in your forehead pops. Snickers is the first to act, barking excitedly and hopping up to meet you. The joy is short-lived, as your beloved ball of fluff is flung back onto the sofa cushions as Kageyama scrambles up and tackles you in a tight squeeze.

        Tucking his face into your neck, he grumbles, “It all went to shit the second you wanted a dog.” You giggle and rub his toned back up and down, tensing when he presses a flurry small kisses to your collarbone. 

        “Oh c’mon, it looks like you two were bonding when I first came in-”

        “Never!”

        “Woof!”

The Claw (Nishinoya x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Claw machines are unfair, and your boyfriend is seriously impatient. You see where this is going, right?

A/N: Just another imagine I got to write thanks to this prompt by @otpdisaster​. Seriously, if you ever get writer’s block, go check them out, they’re a godsend. Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 914

        Buzz buzz.

        The call scared you out of your homework induced trance. After a certain point, you knew you had to give up on zoning out while glaring at the laptop screen. With a sigh, you snatched up your phone and answered. 

        “Hello?”

        “YN!” There’s a muffled screeching in the background of the call that sounds suspiciously like your name. 

        “Tanaka? What’s going on?”

        “You need to come-” his voice breaks away in a chuckle. “You need to come to the mall right now!”

        “Umm, why?”

        “Just come!” The noises in the background become louder and more frantic. “And bring butter!”

        “Why do I-” the call ends before you can ask what the hell is going on, and why a dairy product seems to be the solution to whatever mess your boyfriend’s best friend has gotten into. 

        “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you mumble under your breath, still staring at your phone with wide eyes. Well, it’s better than doing homework on a Saturday. With a shrug, you grab your jacket and your keys, getting ready to drive to the disaster zone. 

                                ~~~

        It’s not much, but it's the best you could find on such short notice, and with such little spare change in your pocket. Walking into the mall with a tub of ‘I Can’t Believe it’s Not Butter’ held in your grasp, you anxiously search for the bald volleyball player. 

        “Ooh, there he is!” Your eyes catch on his signature buzz cut and you make a beeline for him. “Tanaka! Hey!”

        The arcade he stands in is dim with neon green lights flashing from the ceiling like a disco. Children shout excitedly and button-mash on the machines like no tomorrow while you shoulder through a crowd of people to grab his arm. 

        “Hey!” You’re barely audible over the sounds of tickets printing and Pac-Man chomping, so you raise your voice to a shout. “Why did you need this?” You hold up the tub in front of his face and he can only guffaw at the sight of you.

        “Oh hey YN! I’m so glad you could make it!” He snickers once more before stepping away from the claw machine he had been standing in front of. “Noya, look who’s here!”

        “Fuck you, man!” Your boyfriend, who had been hidden by the taller stature of Tanaka, is seated on the floor, one arm lodged up the prize door of the machine while the other flips off his friend. 

        The bald man only laughs harder, pressing an arm against his stomach while howls. You, on the other hand, can only gape at the sight.

        “Yuu, what are you doing?!” He rubs the back of his neck and smiles sheepishly. 

        “I wanted to get you the little stuffed cat,” he points at the toy with the hand wedged in the machine, fingers just barely visible inside the glass. “But this stupid machine,” he smacks the side of it with a sneer, “totally cheated me!”

        The sentiment made your heart flutter, but the sight made you giggle and avoid eye contact. 

        “Hey!”

        “I’m sorry! It’s just,” you gesture at his predicament, “you know… fucking hilarious!” You can’t hold it in any longer as you join Tanaka in busting a gut while Nishinoya miserably slumps onto the arcade floor. 

        “You guys suck.” You both die laughing at his grumble, holding onto each other for support just in case someone topples over. 

        It doesn’t take long before you get spotted.

        “Excuse me!” It’s a young employee of the arcade, and he looks just about done with all of you from the get-go. “Kid, I’m gonna have to ask you to remove your hand from the machine.” 

        “I’m older than you!” Nishinoya kicks his legs against the ground indignantly and you have to bite your lip to contain yourself. “Plus,” he purses his lips, “I’m stuck.”

        The employee sighs and smacks his palm against his forehead. “I’ll go get the butter.”

        “Oh, no need,” you hold up your grocery store purchase like a prized possession, “I already got some.” The younger man quirks his brow at you before accepting the item and whipping out a handy butter knife from his back pocket. You and Tanaka both gawk and glance at each other at the sight of his preparedness. 

        “Every Goddamn day,” he mutters before getting to work. 

        While Nishinoya’s situation is dealt with, you leave the scene with a promise that you’ll be back to Tanaka. About thirty minutes later, your boyfriend is free as a bird and you pop up in front of him with a gift.

        “Here,” you hand him a stuffed cat with a victorious smirk. Amazement overcomes his features and his jaw drops at the gift. He wiggles excitedly and captures you in a hug, but his appreciation of your present doesn’t last long.

        “Wait,” he pulls away and the overjoyed grin falls from his face. “How did you get this?!” His eyes narrow with suspicion while he observes the toy from all angles like it was a fake.

        “I won it,” you announce proudly.

        “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me!” 

        If only he knew you were now out forty bucks.

Practice Makes Perfect (Tsukishima x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: There’s nothing wrong with preparing to ask out the guy you like. Just make sure you don’t have an audience while you do it.

A/N: Hey guys, I’ve been going through a rough patch recently, so I’m sorry if I disappointed any of you by not posting. I’ll try to get back on the wagon soon, I promise. Here’s an imagine I got an idea for from this prompt by @otpdisaster​. I hope you guys like it!

Word count: 1115

        You’ve been at it for a while now. The bathroom was empty and silent; perfect for your test runs during lunch hour. The lights occasionally flickered and created a buzz that was mind-numbing, but you couldn’t complain. 

       “Hey Tsukishima… I like your… eyes? No! God YN, that’s terrible.” You shook your head at yourself in the mirror before trying one more time. This round, you bit your lip and fluttered your eyelashes. 

       “Hey there, Tsukki,” you pucker your lips slightly, “I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me this Friday?” Your reflection was an abomination; you looked halfway constipated. 

       “Ughhhh, this is a nightmare!” Turning on the sink, you splash some cold water in your face before bracing your hands against the porcelain. There was still a light in your eyes, and the longer you looked at yourself, the more beauty you seemed to find. Something about today made you feel ready. Ready to ask out the boy you’d been crushing on for years now. 

       “No, no YN! You can do this!” You nodded at yourself reassuringly and smiled. Pearly whites shown through thanks to weeks of strips. Every strand of hair on your head was about as in place as they could be. Your lips were soft and freshly chapsticked, and for once in your life, you felt attractive in your school uniform. “I can do this,” you whispered once more before turning away from the mirror. 

       With a dramatic hair flip, you turned back to your reflection with a smirk and a sultry voice. “Are you a parking ticket?” You raised a suggestive brow, “Because you’ve got fine written all over you.” Nope. With a pouty sigh, you smack your palm against your forehead. 

       “Why do I suck at thissss?” No response, which led you to be simultaneously pissed off and relieved. You wanted help, but not from anybody conscious in society. Running a hand through your strands, you huff and throw your head back, staring at the ceiling as if it would guide you. Then, you shake your body out like a wet dog and return your gaze to the glass, slamming one hand on your popped-out hip to emphasize your curves, however nonexistent they were. 

       “Hey sexy.” Cue eyebrow waggle. “You, me, the movies. Eight o’ clock, don’t be late- Nope, nope, nope.” Your cheeks were trying to beat the sun, you just knew it. They burned and mimicked the colors of tomatoes. But somewhere, deep down at the bottom of your gut, you just didn’t want to give up. 

       “Please go out with me!” Hands clasped together in a begging motion, you pouted. Too wussy.

       “Hey you!” You pointed a finger accusingly, “Go out with me! Or else!” Too threatening.

       “I’ll buy you some candy if you go out with me,” you bargained with wide, desperate eyes. Too child-kidnappy. 

       “I don’t suppose you’ve noticed my, uhh, mandatory school uniform.” You trailed a hand down the side of your body awkwardly. “It’s made of,” you deepen your voice and narrow your eyes, “girlfriend material.” Too serial killerish.

       “Would you like to be my precious?” you rasped, scratching up your throat. Too Gollumy.

       “Fuck, this is never gonna work!” Throwing your hands up in the air in exasperation, you release a roar that could tremble the internal organs of your enemies before-

       “Ha! I got it! He plays volleyball!” You hop out of your self-deprecating groove instantly with one single, genius idea. Body wiggling excitedly, you delve into your backpack and snatch your phone. Google is such a wonderful resource. 

       “If I was a volleyball, I’d let you hit me all day…” you read aloud before glancing back up at yourself and shaking your head. “I’m desperate, but I’m not that desperate.” Minutes passed, and you test-ran through a couple more lines until you finally found it. The one.

       “Do you play volleyball?” Eyes glowing victoriously, you beamed at the mirror, “Because I sure dig you!” The vandalized, STD-infested high school restroom stays silent, but it didn’t deter you. Your heart pangs with excitement, and you knew you were ready. 

       “It’s perfect!” You were about to high-five yourself, but a muffled snicker interrupted you. The beating in your chest stops for a second and you burst into a cold sweat. Oh crap, who’s there?!

       “H-hello?” You grab your backpack and raise it in front of you. “Who is it? Who’s there?” The last person you wanted to see steps into the women’s bathroom, smug smirk and all. 

       “I don’t know, I kind of liked the Lord of the Rings one.” He shrugs. “Your impression was spot on.” Your throat constricts and you struggle to breathe, let alone respond.

       “Why are you here?” you choke out, hiding your clammy palms behind your back. 

       “The teacher sent me to ask if you were okay. Guess she thought you fell in.” Everything about Tsukishima screams ‘smug.’ Before you liked him, it pissed you off. Then it became endearing. And now it makes you want to crawl into a hole and die. 

       “So, how much did you hear?” 

       “About five minutes before the Optimus Prime impression.”

       “Oh God!” You hide your face into your hands and groan exasperatedly. “You heard all of that?!” He chuckles before nodding, eyes glowing arrogantly behind his frames. 

       “Most of it wasn’t half-bad, though.” You peek between your fingers. 

       “Really?”

       “Yeah,” he licks his lips while crossing his arms. “Give one a try.” Brows furrowed in confusion, you open and close your mouth repeatedly like a fish until he explains further.

       “I promise you’ll like the outcome.” There’s this weird look on his face. It’s not angry, or cocksure. He doesn’t look like he’s about to ream your ass or point out all the mistakes you’ve made in your life. It looks almost like… a smile. And a reassuring one at that. Your eyes widen at the sight before a lop-sided grin grows on your face. 

       “All right,” you nod nonchalantly, but your eyes flicker with excitement, “which one do you wanna hear first?”

       “Hmm, how about my favorite of yours so far: goose in the park looking for a Tsukishima-shaped bread crumb?”

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)

Cock Block (Bokuto x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Bokuto just wants to get some, but the universe is not always on his side.

A/N: I’m kinda loving this one. I guess you could call this nsfw, but like, I don’t write what happens. It’s more like a build-up. Anyways, thank you guys once again for all the support recently, and I hope y’all enjoy this oneshot too! (Bokuto’s too hot to be kept sfw, everybody knows it.)

Word count: 1469

        The entire world seemed to be up against Bokuto’s libido. Certain times of the month, dishes, hell, even movies. Every time he wanted some, you were just a little preoccupied. 

       “Babe,” he breathes heavily against your neck before pressing a kiss there, “God, I missed you so much.”

       “Kou…”

       “I wish we never had to leave for games. Fuck,” he grumbles against you, pulling your body closer on the mattress. Although you don’t want to, you figure it’s better to warn him now than later. 

       “Koutarou- oh shit!” You whimper when he bites that special place just below your ear that drives you crazy. Albeit unwillingly, you place your hands on his broad shoulders and push him away. 

       “Kou!” He pulls back with a pained look in his eyes and your chest tightens at the sight. 

       “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?!” Even though you’re only two inches away, he’s practically shouting in your face. You flinch when a spit particle almost blinds you, and you slap a palm over his mouth to prevent this from happening again while you indignantly wipe away the previous offender. The small action pisses you off almost instantly, and you can only blame the hormones. 

       “I’m okay, you didn’t do anything wrong,” you reassure him with a forced smile. He nods with disbelieving eyes and you drop your hand. 

       “Then why-”

       “I’m on my period.” His face falls and he groans while tucking his head into your chest. Instinctively, you run your fingers through his hair while he whines like a child, gripping your shirt tightly.

       “You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

                               ~~~

       He hadn’t texted you back for three hours. It was a Saturday, and you knew for a fact that he didn’t have volleyball practice or anything else to take up his time, and yet he hadn’t responded to you for what felt like a millenia. Anger rolls off you in waves as you relax on your couch, watching TV and glancing at your dark phone every two seconds.

       The door creaks open behind you. “YN? Are you here?”

       “Yes,” you hiss with a sneer, eyes still locked on the dull movie. Bokuto doesn’t notice your tone as he struts over to you with a smirk. 

       “Do you wanna do anything fun tonight?” He waggles his eyebrows and you almost snort at his lack of wooing skills. If only you had known he sucked at flirting before you had first confessed your feelings to him. It would have been a lot less surprising to receive the text “Are you a volleyball? Because I’d love to call you mine” after your first date.

       “No.” Bokuto rolls over the back of the couch and lands directly on your form, heavy muscles and all. While you grunt in pain, he bounces excitedly on top of you and asks again.

       “Are you sure you don’t wanna do anything fun tonight?” He bonks his forehead against yours eagerly, causing you to blink in surprise. Every single one of his playful actions contrasts the heat swimming around in his golden eyes. You take a moment to rebuild your resistance before you respond.

       “Well, I did three hours ago, but now I’m not in the mood.” Your teeth gnash together when his face darkens with realization.

       “Oh crap.” 

       “Yeah.” With a glare, you worm your way out from under him and disappear into your room, slamming the door shut behind you. Maybe it was an overreaction, but you cut yourself a little slack. Your cramps were being a bitch, and you wanted nothing more than for your boyfriend to cuddle you a few hours ago. Now, here he was asking for the same thing as though you hadn’t said a word. So, was it an overreaction? Maybe, but you were allowed to be pissed in moments like these. 

       “YN, I’m so sorry! I totally forgot!”

“Mhm, sure.”

        His footsteps grow closer to your door and it opens just a crack. His black and white head peeks in and his pupils dart around before locating you seething on your bed. With a nervous quirk of his lips, he hesitantly mumbles, “Does this mean you’re still on your period?”

       You chuck a pillow at him.

                               ~~~

       It only took about thirty minutes for you two to make up, but every day since then, you just couldn’t find the time to… you know. One day, you were completely exhausted. Bokuto had come home from practice and jumped you, nuzzling against your face before the act grew more intimate. 

       “Can we do it?” His warm breath brushes across your chest while he stares up at you desperately. 

       “Yes,” you mumble with drooping eyes. Meanwhile, Bokuto grins against your skin. “Only if you take a shower first.” He gasps dramatically before taking a whiff of his pit. 

       “Oh, come on! It’s not that bad!” You shake your head and point to the hallway. Reluctantly, he scrambles off you with a pout and trudges towards the door, only for you to speak up with another request.

       “Could you do the dishes on your way? Thanks!” You disguise a yawn behind your hands while he whines dramatically, stomping into the kitchen and noisily clanging pots and pans together while he scrubs at them like they ruined his love life. 

       After taking the fastest shower in the West, Bokuto hurriedly dries off and sprints to the bedroom.

       “YN, I’M-” he freezes at the sight of you, completely knocked out and drooling from the corner of your mouth. “...ready.” A heavy sigh escapes the ace before he tiptoes over and smiles down at you. 

       “You should’ve told me you were tired,” he whispers lovingly, grabbing the edges of a blanket and draping it over your sleeping form. Slowly, he leans down and presses a small kiss to your cheek. “Sweet dreams, baby.”

                               ~~~

       Today was the day, and nothing would stop him.

       “YN!” The door slams closed behind him with a loud wham and he locks it haphazardly. “TODAY IS THE DAY WE- oh no! What’s wrong?” A line appeared between his brows as he took in the sight of you surrounded by tissues and sniffling on the sofa. 

       “He just,” your voice wobbles, “snapped his fingers and sacrificed himself for everybody.” You hug your knees closer to your chest and weep silently. For a moment, Bokuto stands star-struck, but your movements causes him to jump into action. In a split second, he grabs a tub of ice cream, a fresh box of tissues- you ran out- and your favorite soft blanket which he drops on top of you before clicking off the TV. 

       “It’s okay,” he murmurs softly, easily tugging you onto his lap. All you needed was a little love and comfort, and by God if he wasn’t willing to provide it for you. 

       After a few minutes, your tears begin to slow, and Bokuto decides to mess with you just a tad. “I love you three-thousand,” he mumbles teasingly into your shoulder. The words rile you up all over again.

       “SHUT UP!” you wail.

        ~~~

       Okay. Today was the day. Outside the apartment’s window, it rained so romantically it was like the clouds were rooting for him. The lights were off, so he lit a couple scented candles, those vanilla ones you like so much, and he even splayed rose petals over the bed sheets like in the cheesy love scenes. Nothing, nothing, was going to cockblock him tonight. When his ears perked at the jingle of keys outside the door, he knew it was go-time. Cologne, check. Freshly washed hair, check. No shirt, check. 

       “Hey Bokuto, I brought home…” you trailed off at the sight of your bare-chested boyfriend silently leering at you in the middle of the living room. Well, his methods of courting you have always been rather weird. Quickly, you close your jaw and let out a snicker.

       “Is tonight the night?” 

       “Yep.” You nod with an impressed smirk, questioningly sniffing the air.

       “Is that my…?”

       “Yep.” He takes a step closer to you and you set your groceries on the counter. 

       “All right, just let me-”

       “Nope.” You let out a squeak as he lifts you up and over his shoulder, smacking your ass for good measure. “Now or never.” He hauls you over to the bedroom and kicks open the door. Meanwhile you’re tracing distracting patterns on his toned, nude back before you let out a small huff.

       “Oh crap, wait, I forgot! Can I have a little rain check because-”

       “No.”

Volleyball on the Brain (Kageyama x Reader/Soulmate AU)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: In a world where soulmate’s thoughts are written on their other half’s hand, your soulmate always has the same thing on his mind every day: volleyball and the occasional dumbass ginger.

A/N: Thank you so much for 300 followers! Like holy crap, that’s amazing how fast that happened, so thanks again you guys! Here’s the celebration fic, but I’m pre-sorry bc it’s not as good as I hoped it would be. I’m sorry, but I hope you enjoy!

Word count: 3076

        Ever since you hit the age of puberty and soulmarks, your soulmate only had one thing on his mind: volleyball. Almost every single one of his thoughts revolved around the sport.

        ‘Did I set that right?’

        ‘Will Oikawa help me learn how to serve?’

        ‘Why didn’t Kindaichi go for my set?’

        ‘I’m not leaving this court.’

        It’s been driving you insane since you were in middle school. But lately, ever since you started at Karasuno, they’ve become… calmer in a way, with the addition of a new “Hinata.”

        ‘Damn, carrot top actually reached that set!’

        ‘That red headed idiot actually beat me in a race! I won’t let it happen again!’

        ‘Hinata, that idiot. He seriously served it right into the back of my head! I’m gonna teach that dumbass a lesson.’

        Every new thought he had drew itself in his own sloppy writing on your left hand. They ran over the back and in the middle of your palm, each new addition darker and bolder than the last, while the oldest faded away to make room for more. 

        At the moment, you inspect the freshest mark on your hand before a kind voice interrupts you.

        “Hey YN! Whatcha doin’?” Yamaguchi, one of the only friends you’ve made since you first began high school, approaches your desk with some pep in his step. He waves at you shyly and you smile. 

        “Just lost in thought,” you respond absentmindedly. You stare back down at your palm, watching a new, more vulgar phrase take the place of a previous thought about yogurt. 

        “That’s what your soulmate is thinking, right?” You nod. “What does it say?” With a huff, you run a finger over the words. 

        “They’re still talking about this redheaded weirdo. It’s so stupid!” 

        “Oh really?” A smug voice pipes up behind Yamaguchi. “Can I take a look?”

        “Sure, go ahead.” You twist in your seat and hold out your hand to Tsukishima, who doesn’t care enough to flip it and read others. The one on your palm seems to satisfy him enough. 

        “Interesting,” he mutters with a smirk. You throw a confused glance at him before the school bell lets out a chime to bust your eardrums. 

        “What do you mean ‘interesting’?” Tsukishima shrugs away the question before exiting your class and Yamaguchi gives him a wave, taking his seat next to you. 

        “Do you know what he meant?” you lean over and raise an eyebrow at your companion, but he only waves it away dismissively.

        “Don’t mind Tsukki, he’s always aloof like that. It’s better to just ignore it.” Yamaguchi’s attempts to reassure you doesn’t stray your mind from the initial problem.

        Does he know something?

                                ~~~

        “YN, you’re up.” The teacher waved the slip of paper with your name on it like a surrender flag. It was public humiliation day, and you were the first to go. Wonderful. At least you could get your presentation over with quickly, but that wasn’t what really gave you anxiety. It was him. At any given moment, your hand could whip out a cuss faster than a bullet and you couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it. 

        “Okay,” you accept your fate and the risks it provides, ambling your way up to the front of the class with note cards written nonsensically. Curse my chicken scratch.

        “Umm, so my presentation is about-” a snort echoes about the room, followed by a few more snickers, and lastly a gasp from your teacher. 

        “YN!” she whispers your name oh-so discreetly in front of the group of students. “Your hand!” The words are scandalized, like you had slapped her with your glove and declared a duel. 

        “Whatever do you mean?” You stay wide-eyed innocent and purse your lips in confusion. How long can I play this before she excuses me? 

        “Please take this pass and go to the office for a glove,” Bingo. “You’ll have to present tomorrow.” Rescind the Bingo.

        With a grumble, you snag the germ-infested pass and exit the room. It’s on your journey down the hall that you glance down at the word on the back of your hand.

        ‘FUCK!’ it says, capital letters and all. It covers the entire spanse of skin too, written sideways and reaching all the way up to your wrist. 

        “What the hell did he do?” You shake your head frustratedly while stepping into the main office. 

        “Excuse me?” There’s only one person bumbling around the room, and it’s a younger member of staff who flinches and pushes up his glasses at the sight of you.

        “Yes? Did you need something?” You enter the cramped space and hold up your hand, squinting to see the ID card reading “Takeda.” He tenses at the word before nodding solemnly.

        “I understand, let me find a glove for you.” Everyone is now used to the idea that soulmates can have profane thoughts more often than not, so it’s not uncommon for someone to wear a glove on their left hand to hide this.

        “Aha!” “Takeda” is crouched behind a desk but waves around the hopefully unused glove he found victoriously. “I got one!”

        “Oh, thank you,” you say, approaching him and extending a hand to accept it.

        “Of...course…” his voice trails off as he reads the words on the palm of your hand.

        ‘Hinata, the dumbass. He can’t receive for shit.’

        You laugh awkwardly and hide the words behind your back. “Sorry, he’s always thinking stuff like that.” The faculty advisor nods slowly, but pulls the glove just out of reach as you go for it.

        “O-on second thought,” he mumbles, ears growing pink, “t-this is unacceptable.” 

        “Excuse me?” You narrow your eyes at him and raise an eyebrow. What the hell is he talking about?

        Takeda clears his throat and glances at the ceiling. “You should know by now to cover your hand with a glove, especially if your soulmate has been thinking this way during your school hours.” What the fuck?!

        “I can’t control his thoughts, you know!” You sneer at him and cross your arms.

        “Y-yes but this is unacceptable,” his tone loses its nerve but he continues. “I may have to give you detention.”

        “What?! Why?!” 

        “Unless you’re willing to volunteer at our boys’ volleyball game tonight. We could use some point-watchers.” 

        “Hell no,” you seethe, eyes burning with rage. 

        “An hour of detention or helping out at the game tonight, your call.” The staff member wasn’t cruel or mischievous through any of this. In fact, he seemed almost happy, like a father who had just bought his child a puppy for Christmas. Even so, this doesn’t quench your thirst for blood.

        “Fine,” you clench your teeth together and roll your eyes, giving in to his stupid rule, “I’ll help at the game.” At least you didn’t have anything going on tonight.

        “Wonderful!” Takeda smiles at you gratefully and nods his head, handing you the glove before dismissing you. 

        “School is so fucking stupid,” you hiss on your way back to class, snapping the rubber glove indignantly up your forearm.

                                ~~~

        Set one, thirteen points to five. Or was it six? Oops.

        So it turns out you weren’t doing very well at your mandatory volunteering job. Imagine that. While most of you wanted to blame it on the fact that you had been unwilling in the first place, a small part of you thought, no, knew that it was the blueberry on the court.

        “Nice set, Kageyama!” A third year smacked your eyes’ favorite person on the back. You assumed it was the team captain who did this, and you assumed he had just spiked the ball and earned a point. 

        “YN, flip the card over,” the blonde girl, Yachi was her name, urged you with wide eyes. 

        “Right, right, sorry.” You bite your lip and flip it over before returning your gaze to the court. He seemed to have an attitude problem, and hot damn if that wasn’t your favorite type of man. 

        “There’s something wrong with me,” you whisper, glancing back down at your hand guiltily. You couldn’t help it; “Kageyama” was just so pretty! I love him- whoa, where did that come from? Shaking your head for clarity, you read the words on your palm to avoid eye-fucking him for a couple more seconds. 

        ‘That blocker’s not jumping very high. I’ll have Hinata spike it directly forward and over his fingers.’ 

        You smile fondly before returning your gaze to the game. Still thinking about volleyball, huh? I guess we’ll have something in common for once. 

        The redhead of the team charges forward just as Kageyama tosses up the ball. The shorter male jumps high enough to make you blanch while he slams the ball to the ground, just brushing a blocker’s fingertips. 

        “Whoa,” you flip over the card while gazing in awe at the court. “Yachi, what’s that little guy’s name? The one who just spiked the ball?”

        “Ooh, that’s Hinata! He’s amazing at jumping, and he’s really fast too!” The blonde hops up and down excitedly.

        “Yeah, you’re right!” you admit breathlessly. “That was-” Hinata. “-amazing….” Hinata. His name is… Hinata? Oh. 

        “YN!” A hand waves in front of your face frantically. “Pay attention before you get smacked in the face! Trust me, it’s terrifying.” She shivers beside you while you try to breathe properly. Oh my God. It’s him. It’s the blueberry. 

        On the court, Kageyama fist pumps to himself and Hinata copies the action, both yelling heatedly at the point. 

        “Shut up, you two!” Daichi smacks them both on the back of the head and they switch off like a light, repositioning for the next serve. Just as he wipes away a bead of sweat rolling down his face, Kageyama’s eyes catch on something. Her thoughts.

        ‘His name is Hinata?’

        ‘Oh my God. It’s him. It’s the blueberry.’ Did she… find me? He shook his head, trying not to take it to heart before more words, almost indecipherable, scrawl themselves on his hand.

        ‘That Kageyama guy is my soulmate.’ Holy shit. She knows! 

        “Kageyama! Block it, now!” A shout coming from Sugawara on the sidelines causes him to jump into action. Except he got a little too excited.

        “Ooh.” The crowd and players all share the same grimace at the faceshot Karasuno’s first year setter has just taken. He got the point, though.

       You flinch at the sight of Kageyama taking a hefty spike to his pretty mug. A collective gasp arises from the fans and his teammates surround him, inspecting the damage. A coach jogs out onto the court to do the same, and it’s around that time that your gut tries to tell you something.

        Go over there! Umm, how about no? Just do it! You’re not Nike, shut up!

        “Man, I hope he’s okay. Kageyama’s always been tough, but that was a hard hit!” Yachi anxiously bounces on her toes beside you with worry in her eyes.

        “Do you think he’ll be able to keep playing?” you ask, watching as the other female manager hands him a rag for his nose bleed! When did that happen?!

        “I don’t know. I’m sure they’ll have to pull him, if only to take him to the infirmary.” You swallow nervously at her response. The urge in your chest to run out there just got a whole lot stronger.

        Go! No. Go! No. Go out there, YN! All right, fine!

        You bound your way over to the scene. It’s a nervous sprint on your tippy toes, so you wouldn’t be surprised if you resembled a two-legged gazelle prancing along the court.

        “We need to take you to the nurse, just for a checkup.” The closer you get, the better you hear them.

        “No, I’m fine.” The gruff voice makes your heart skip a beat. Oh wowww. Hello there.

        “I-I can take him.” You step up behind a shorter player- Hinata- and speak up. The ginger jumps in fright at your sudden voice. 

        “I don’t mean this to be rude in any way, but who are you?” The captain of the team, an intimidating brunet, regards you curiously and a little defensively. You don’t take it to heart right now, but maybe you can spare a couple hours of sleep tomorrow to dwell on it.

        “I’m really sorry to intrude, but, I mean, I can take him to the nurse’s office so nobody kind of essential has to leave.” You shrug and suddenly realize how half-baked your plan actually was. Little too late now. Kageyama watches you suspiciously from inside the circle of people.

        “I agree,” a squeaky voice adds. It’s Takeda! “YN can take him to the nurse real quick. I’m sure it’ll be fine. Right, YN?” He gives you a pointed look.

        “Yep,” you nod slowly. What is he doing?

        “Ughh, whatever, let’s just get this over with, shall we?” Kageyama pushes past the crowd, including you, and walks towards the gym doors. With a head nod from Takeda, you take the cue and hustle after him, joining him in the silent hallway.

        “Hi.” You want to slap yourself silly.

        “Umm, hi?” He gives you a weird look but continues on his trek, nose now dry of blood and soiled rag held by his side. A tuft of dark hair almost covers his heart-stirring blue eyes, but you're thankful it doesn’t. God, he’s so pretty. How’d I catch this? The thought reminds you of the main reason you were out here with him.

        With a deep breath, you snag his arm and halt his movements. Kageyama grows confused and impatient with you, but you try not to let it deter you. 

        “I know this is weird,” you avoid his gaze, but his attention still gives you butterflies, “but can I do something for a second?” His eyebrows rose.

        “Like what?” I think you’re my soulmate. You grab his hand and hold it up to his face, clenching your eyes shut and bracing for his reaction. 

        It’s deafeningly quiet. All before a single “Huh.” 

        Huh? Huh?! What, did you find an Easter egg or something? What does “Huh” mean? For a split second, you forgot he could read your thoughts. A deep chuckle breaks out between his lips.

        “It means I found you. And I’m okay with that.” You open your eyes if only to glare at him. 

        “Oh, you’re okay with that? Thank God, I’m so glad you’re okay with that. I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t-” your breath hitches when he palms your cheek. “-okay… with… that.” The words die off your tongue and you wait. His pupils are dilated, so you wait. His palm is so rough, but still warm and tender against your cheek, so you wait... for nothing apparently. 

        “I think…”

        “Yeah?”

        “I think we should find the nurse’s office. My game’s still going on, and it’s going on without me. That’s a problem.” You snort at him, shaking your head exasperatedly before grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers.

        “I should’ve figured you’d be just like your thoughts.” You lead him to the infirmary, but his long strides easily catch up to yours.

        “What’s that supposed to mean?” He suddenly grows loud and offended. Oh man, you are going to have so much fun teasing him.

        “Nothing bad. Now that I’ve met you, I guess it’s kind of admirable that you think about volleyball so much.” His hand squeezes yours at the words and your chest grows tight with joy.

        “Thanks, I guess.” A flush creeps up his face and you chuckle at the sight, inching closer to his side.

        “Of course.”

                                ~~~

        Well, Kageyama didn’t damage anything serious, but his nose is a little purple from the hard hit. The game is won by a landslide, and he offers to walk you home, a chance at which you jump furiously. 

        “You played amazing tonight.” You smile up at him and he hesitantly returns the gesture. Through another hand squeeze, you infer that your soulmate is more into physically showing his love than any other way. With a returned hand squeeze of your own, you infer that you’re going to be totally okay with that.

        “Thank you. I just wish that dumbass Hinata had-” Your eyes widen and you swiftly press a finger to his lips. 

        “Nope!” His face grows visibly confused. “Nope.”

        “‘Nope’ what?” He asks against your finger. You try not to let your eyes roll back at the feeling. It’s not much, but you figure it’s the closest you’ll get to his lips touching your body tonight. Not that you mind that! You’re totally fine with it! It’s just that, you know, he’s fucking drool-worthy. And he’s all yours.

        Kageyama glances down at a watch he doesn’t have and gulps at the sight. Then he draws up his blown-out pupils to meet yours. “Thanks,” he repeats. “I think you’re pretty hot yourself.” He licks his lips and you follow the action dutifully. “And you’re all mine too.”

        Yep, you were gonna die. Your heart couldn’t handle an attack like this, so you worm your hand out of his grip and start to giggle like a maniac while cupping your burning cheeks. “Why,” you laugh your way through the question, “did you have to say that?” It ends in a high-pitched squeak that causes him to flinch.

        “I’m sorry, was that too forward?” No. More please. “I’ll take it back-”

        “Don’t!” You shake your head rapidly and hold your hands out to stop him. “Please don’t ever take anything like that back, please. I’m gonna need it for my sanity.” Confusion washes over his face for a split second before he nods slowly, glancing down at his left palm just in case. 

        “Okay, I won’t.” You nod affirmingly and grasp his hand again, leading him on the right path to your house. 

        “I just have one question.”

        “Shoot.”

        “Do I really look like a blueberry?”

Indecipherable Secret Code (Tendou x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: You could finally say you loved him back!...In private. You were just so nervous of how the team would react if you ever said it in public, but luckily Tendou has just the solution.

A/N: I’m so glad you guys have been enjoying my stories recently! Here’s a little Tendou imagine that I got an idea for from this prompt by @otpdisaster​. Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1316

        The room was dark and silent, while rain trickled outside. You snuggle closer into Tendou’s lean arms and revel in the peaceful atmosphere. While basking in the aftermath of a tiring study session, you were being spooned by your red-headed boyfriend on your bed. Lightning flashed outside your window, and it suddenly gave you the courage to say what has been on your mind for a couple days now.

       “Satori?”

       “Hmm?”

       “I-” you take a deep breath, “I think I love you.” You tense in preparation for his reaction, only to feel him press his head into the back of your neck. His fingers twitch against your stomach. 

       “I’ve been waiting for you to say it back for weeks now,” he breathes out in relief. You warned him in the beginning of your relationship that you had a difficulty classifying your feelings and communicating them. Tendou had accepted it as a challenge. “I love you too,” he adds at last, grinning wildly against the back of your neck.

       “Umm.” You swallow nervously, not quite finished with the confession.

       “Yes?”

       “I do l-love you-”

       “God, I’ll never get tired of hearing that.”

       “-but I’m not exactly comfortable saying it in front of other people yet,” you rush out, twiddling your fingers next to his own. “I’m really sorry.” 

       “Don’t be,” Tendou chuckles and tugs you closer to his warm chest, “that’s completely fine.” His voice deepens and becomes quieter, more serious. “I’m just glad you feel the same way.”

       The room returns to its former silence, allowing the sound of rain splattering against your window to attract your attention. The warmth of the figure behind you begins to take its toll and your eyes flutter closed.

       “If I may ask,” Tendou pipes up once more, intertwining his long legs with your own, “What are you so afraid of?” The question leaves you red and embarrassed. Your feelings were always hard to read, but you decide to take a stab at explaining it.

       “I guess I’m just afraid people will make a big deal out of it. It is kind of abnormal for me to be all lovey dovey, you know?” Yes, it was true. You weren’t the most physically-loving person in the world. But that’s what had drawn you to Tendou in the first place. In the beginning of your relationship when he would hug you, you always hugged him a little longer than he intended, and though it made you feel self-conscious, he was always happy to hold you more and more often. 

       Touch-starved. He had called you that one day. It didn’t offend you, and you didn’t quite know if it was true, but it got you more physical contact with him, so you didn’t mind.

       “Well that is true,” he chuckles, then gasps dramatically. The sudden action causes you to flinch and his legs begin to shake against yours anxiously, wiggling the whole bed. 

       “What’s got you so excited now?” Your voice wavered thanks to his movements. He was like a puppy dog wagging its tail. 

       “I’m a genius!” Are you sure? “I have just discovered the solution to your problem.” His voice is mischievous next to your ear. Uh oh, what does that mean?

                               ~~~

       “Bean orange juice,” Tendou leaned over and whispered to you suddenly, causing your face to erupt in a blush. 

       “Bean orange juice too,” you mumble shyly, a small smile growing on your face.

       “What the hell are you two talking about?” Semi spins in his chair and sneers at the two of you in confusion. 

       “It’s code.” Tendou waggles his brows at you and you duck your burning face, hair hiding your ecstatic grin like a curtain.

       “For what?!”

       “Semi, please turn around in your chair and pay attention!” The teacher’s scolding forces him to drop the subject, but not before he throws a confused glare at the two of you. Huh, Satori was right. It works.

                               ~~~

       Volleyball practice had just finished, and you were waiting impatiently for your boyfriend to walk you home. “It’s not safe” my ass. I know how to poke someone’s eye out. 

       “YN!” Tendou races towards you and lightly smacks you on the forehead. The act makes you blink in surprise and you almost cuss him out before remembering oh right, it’s code.

       “Well right back at ya!” you smirk before thwapping your boyfriend’s forehead a little too excitedly. He stumbles back a step and you begin to sputter an apology. 

       “Oh, Satori, I’m so-” Your eyes widen in surprise when he starts to crack up. 

       “Gee, YN, I didn’t know you felt that strongly about me!” He drops a sweaty arm around your shoulders and directs you out of the gym with a wild smile, causing you to grin back up at him fondly. 

       “Okay, those two are weird, but have they always been that weird?” Shirabu furrows his brows, watching the two of you exit the schoolyard while patting each others’ foreheads repeatedly. 

       “Yes,” Semi answers, pursing his lips and shaking his head. “They’re always that weird.”

                               ~~~

        It was their first game of the season, and you wanted to give Tendou some personal encouragement before he began practice. 

       “Satori!” You wave to get his attention before jogging out to the court, wary of flying balls. His eyes gleam while he approaches you, smiling in amusement when you hold out your hand.

       “Good luck.” Your cheeks are flushed and you beam at him when he accepts the offer, shaking your hand gently. 

       “Thank you.” He winks at you and squeezes your hand once before releasing it. Goshiki watches this interaction in complete awe behind his eccentric teammate, eyes aglow while he waits as if in line. Just as you watch Tendou walk away, the first year pops up into your vision, scaring the absolute life out of you.

       “Hey YN!” He grins, sticking out his hand, “Put her there!” You giggle at his eager actions  and shake your head solemnly. 

       “Sorry Goshiki, I just don’t feel that way about you.” With a wave, you exit the gym, presumably to go cheer from the stands. Tendou smirks and pats his teammate’s shoulder before trotting over to practice. Frozen in shock, the poor spiker stares at his hand incredulously.

       “Why can’t I have a handshake?”

                               ~~~

They won, and they were going to Nationals once again. While it was nothing new for the boys, Tendou always grew excited at the fact, and you were just the same. 

       “Satori!” You raced down to the court.

       “YN! We’re going to Nationals!” He laughs joyfully after you tackle him in a hug, pressing him as close as possible to your chest. 

       “I know!” you nod with him, face stuck in a grin that was beginning to ache. “You did amazing!” Now’s your chance! Do it, YN!

       “I-” you swallow and take a deep breath, leaning back to gaze into his eyes while you finally say it in public. “I…” your chest deflates. I can’t do it. “I hate Shirabu,” you mutter, looking away ashamed. Said boy squawks in offence behind you.

       “Hey,” Tendou lifts your chin, flashing you a reassuring grin, “it’s okay.” He cups your face and draws you in closer. “I hate Shirabu too,” he whispers softly, pressing his forehead against yours. His maroon eyes are peering so adoringly into your own that you can’t help but sigh in relief, drifting forward to press your lips against his.

       Shirabu, however, is less than impressed by your words. 

       “Okay, what the fuck, you two?!”

Bad Sleeping Habits (Nishinoya x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: You and Nishinoya have some pretty weird sleeping habits. 

A/N: Just some little shorts for my favorite boy bc he’s the best! My god, if you want to love life, please search up the weirdest things people have said in their sleep. You will die laughing. Anyways, please enjoy!

Word count: 1068

        “DON'T FORGET THE APPLES!” You flinch out of your sleep to find your boyfriend sitting straight up in bed, eyes still closed.

       “Yuu, what the hell’s-”

       “GODDAMN GOPHERS… ate my… fucking carrots.” He flops back down onto the bed, letting out a loud snore as the mattress shakes from his fall. You lie beside him, eyes still open wide with fear.

       “What the fuck was that?” you whisper to yourself, scratching the side of your head and watching Nishinoya warily. After he stays silent for a while, aside from a couple snores similar to a honking semi, you slowly close your eyes once more and cuddle back into his side, smiling when his arms instinctively wrap around you.

                               ~~~

       “Pizza.” Nishinoya’s eyes blink open and quickly adjust to the dark bedroom.

       “Babe?”

       “Pizza babies,” you mumble beside him, worming your way out of bed and blindly trudging out of the room with unopened eyes. 

       “YN?” Nishinoya huffs before clambering out of bed and following your sleep-walking path. “What are you doing?” 

       “SHHH!” you harshly hiss against your finger. “Don’t blow our cover!” Your voice is slow and mumbled, and you are visibly unconscious during your actions. Nishinoya covers his mouth and snickers while you stumble into the kitchen, hands feeling blindly for something.

       “Hehe,” you giggle softly as you caress a watermelon before snatching it up and walking past your highly-confused boyfriend. He trails behind you as you step back into the bedroom and set it on the windowsill. 

       “YN, whatcha doin’ now?” He observes you as you pet the fruit like an animal.

       “The cat likes to see the sun rise,” you smile blissfully, stroking the melon once more before stumbling back to bed and passing out in the middle of the sheets. 

       Nishinoya glances at you, then at the watermelon, then at you again. He rubs his temples and grumbles, “We don’t even have a cat,” before nudging over your body and falling into the bed beside you. He’s too awake now, so he settles for watching you converse randomly in your slumber until his alarm goes off. 

       “I have clown school tomorrow.”

       “Oh really?” Nishinoya smiles at you.

       “Goddamn Tina’s always late though. Fuck Tina.” 

       Jesus, poor Tina, he thought.

                               ~~~

       The comparative sound of a loud, rapturous trumpet echoes throughout your room, disturbing you from your peaceful slumber. The stench that follows urges you to flee the bed and air out the blanket.

       “What the hell was that noise?” Nishinoya grumbles, opening one eye to look at you while you continue the necessary task. Your shirt is lifted over your nose to prevent further nasal contamination.

       “You ripped ass.”

       “Oh.” He nods before closing his eye and returning to sleep once more.

                               ~~~

       “Oooh, right there,” you whined. Nishinoya smiles in his sleep before turning and gazing at you.

       “Right there, huh?” he eggs you on with a smirk. You nod and whimper.

       “Mmhmm,” your voice is breathless. “Don’t move it.” His brow twitches in confusion.

       “You don’t want me to move? At all?” You sigh happily.

       “Yeah, keep it there.” Your nose scrunches up and you shiver while biting your lip. “Mmm, then put that one there.”

       “There’s another one?” Nishinoya’s eyes widen. Who the hell were you also picturing while you were dream-fucking him?

       “Yeah, there’s seven-hundred of them,” you scoff.

       Suddenly, Nishinoya doesn’t want to play this game anymore. “S-seven hundred?” he hesitantly gulps, “What’s wrong with just having the one?” He’s not sure if he wants to hear the answer.

       “If you’re gonna whine so much, then don’t help me build my fucking puzzle, Noya.”

                               ~~~

       “I don’t wanna die.” Your eyes fly open and you groan. It’s 4 am, what now? “I sometimes wish I’d never been born at all…” your boyfriend’s voice trails off and he begins to hum under his breath to a random tune. It was vaguely familiar to you, but you just couldn’t put your finger on it. Then his tempo sped up and his hands began to pat the mattress rhythmically.

       “I see a little silhouetto of a man,” Nishinoya suddenly speaks up once more.

       “Bum, bum, bum, will you…” he slows down once more and you think his solo is finally finished, thank God.

       “THUNDERBOLT AND LIGHTNING, VERY, VERY FRIGHTENING, ME!” You screech in terror at his sudden outburst and roll off the bed. The room grows silent while you stare at the ceiling on the cold, wooden floor. Then your boyfriend’s head pops into view after he groans, finally, finally awake.

       “YN?” he asks in a gruff tone. Although you want to revel in his husky morning voice like you normally would, you’re currently busy being totally pissed off at him.

       “Yes?”

       “What are you doing on the floor?” Your eye twitches at the question.

       “It looked lonely.”

       ~~~

       “Hey YN!” Tanaka waves at you while you enter their gym just as they finish practice. He jogs over to you and Nishinoya spots his actions in the distance. 

       “Tanaka, no!” Your boyfriend sprints towards you and his friend, but he’s not fast enough this time.

       “Did you know he screamed out your name in the middle of our overnight stay at the volleyball camp?!” Tanaka erupts into cackles and holds his stomach while you giggle along with him. Nishinoya tackles him to the ground before popping up in front of you and pointing an accusatory finger.

       “Don’t you dare laugh, we both do some weird-ass shit!” he warns, throwing a warning glare at Tanaka when he begins to howl happily at the information.

       “I’m not surprised, honestly,” you shrug, stepping closer to your boyfriend and holding his hand, “I’m more flattered than anything, I promise.” You give him a loving smile and Nishinoya returns the expression. 

       “I’m glad,” he draws you closer to you before whispering, “Now how about I help you return the favor.” You bite your lip and nod, following as well as you can while your energetic boyfriend hastily leads you home. 

       “OH YN!” A familiar voice mockingly moans in the distance. 

       “Shut up, Tanaka!”

Fake Marks, True Love (Oikawa x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: The hickey was fake, but the pain Oikawa felt when he saw it? It was real, and it hurt like a bitch. “Who touched you?”

A/N: Angst! Angst! Angst (and fluff)! Also, another prank fanfic? Wow! Who’d have thought? Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy this fake hickey prank with Aoba Johsai’s cocky setter!

Word count: 1341

        The dark splotch on your neck was perfect. It was slightly below your ear and couldn’t be easily covered by hair or clothing. I could be a makeup artist. You dipped the brush into the powder and dusted it over the mark as a final touch, making it seem more natural and subtle. 

       “And now we wait,” you mutter, packing up the eyeshadows and foundations around you before settling down in the living room. You bundle up in a thick sweatshirt and yoga pants, hopping onto the couch and preparing for Oikawa to come over after finishing practice. 

       About an hour later, the TV is loud and lit up the room with your show, but you could still hear your boyfriend’s knock on the door along with the call of your name. You had almost drifted off to sleep, so you yawn while rubbing your eyes with the back of your hands. 

       “YN!” He rang the doorbell obnoxiously until you whipped open the door with a fierce glare.

       “Was that really necessary?” you hiss, the jingles still ringing in your ears. 

       “Of course,” he scoffed, “I wanted to see you. Be flattered.” He smirks at you before stepping inside, glancing around your house while kicking off his shoes. 

       “The Office? Really?” He raised a brow at your entertainment choice. “You’ve watched that like a million times.”

       “And I’ll watch it a million more, so get used to it.” You stick out your tongue and trudge back over to the couch, Oikawa snagging your waist in the process and following closely behind you. His hands were cold from outside and rough from his practice. 

       “I suppose I’ll have to, won’t I?” He sighs dramatically and flops onto the sofa beside you, plopping his sweaty head on your lap. 

       “Ew, ew, ewww!” You pat his forehead in an effort to urge him to move but he only swats your hand away. 

       “Shush,” he relaxes both arms behind his head, not-so subtly caressing your thighs in the process. “It’s not that bad.” You know he’s right. Sweaty or not, his hair is always soft and calming to run your hands through, so you do it. 

       “See?” His brown eyes glow from down on your lap and you roll your own at him.

       “Fine, you win-”

       “God, I love hearing those words.”

       “Now shut up and let me watch Jim prank Dwight.”

       “Fine, I will. Now you shush and let me,” he pauses for a second, looking up at your face confusedly, “... stare… at… you,” he trails off. His brows are furrowed and his eyes are filled with pain. What’s wrong with him? You glance down curiously before returning your gaze to the screen.

       A hand of his peels out from under his head and reaches up to brush over your face then down under your ear. Smiling faintly, you lean into his touch. He was gentle with his movements and you close your eyes to focus on the feeling. “YN.” 

       You hum in response. 

       “Who touched you?” His voice is tense and restrained. Your eyes fly open and narrow in confusion.

       “What?”

       “Who did this?” He sits up and turns to face you, keeping his fingers against the side of your neck. “Who stole you from me?”

       “What are you-” Oh shit.

       Your hand flies up to feel for the fake hickey, but Oikawa’s is already there. 

       “Yeah, that’s right,” he sneers while his voice trembles, “I saw it.” You’re conflicted between ending it right now by telling him and staying silent to see where it goes. Wait, why did I do this again?

       “How could you?” His Adam’s apple bobs while he pushes your hair back once more to view the artificial mark, only to scoff in disbelief and shake his head. You breathe out waveringly and fidget with your fingers. Should I stop now? God, why am I doing this?

       “It’s not what you think.” You avoid his gaze and mutter more excuses, “I just fell.” He gives you a pained smile and his eyes start to water. 

       “On your neck?” he whispers breathlessly. You nod and he shakes his head once more, loosening a tear from his eye. 

       “YN, please. Tell me the truth.”

       “I am!” you plead.

       “You’re lying!” he exclaims suddenly, pushing off the couch to pace back and forth in front of you anxiously. His hands tug on his hair harshly while he bites his lip. 

       “How long?”

       “Baby, it’s not-”

       “Who was it?”

       “Tooru-”

       “Was he better than me?” he whispers, eyes filled with hurt while he watches you.

       “Tooru, no, it’s a prank!” you shout, standing up and approaching him, only to be stopped by his outstretched hands. 

       “YN, I can’t.” He shakes his head and your heart stops. 

       “Can’t what?” you ask softly, eyes welling up with tears.

       “I can’t stay here.” Oikawa stumbles back, searching the floor frantically for his shoes. “I-,” he chokes back a sob, “I can’t be with you anymore.” 

       “Tooru wait!” You sprint over and slide into the door, slamming it shut just as he opens it. Tears fall down his face silently as you let out trembling breaths. Without a word, you grab his hand and lead him to the bathroom.

       “YN don’t-”

       “Shut up.” Your voice cracks pitifully as you drag him in and switch on the light. You hold him in place with a tight grip and silently turn on the faucet. 

       “YN…” he trails off in awe, watching as you rub away the fake love mark until it is only an awkward rash of purple under your ear. Slowly, you turn your head up to face him in the mirror, dropping his hand and leaning against the counter while you wait. 

       “It was just a prank,” you mumble, pursing your lips and losing yourself in his brown eyes. At last, he seems to hear you. And believe you. His nose flairs and he frantically wipes at his cheeks, hoping to erase the wave of sadness from earlier. Then he lets out a forced chuckle.

       “Thank God,” he laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if-” Oikawa breaks off with a whimper and pulls you into an embrace, weeping gently into your shoulder. In an instant, you return the hug, but you widen your eyes in an attempt to keep your own cries at bay. The resistance doesn’t last long, and you tuck your head into his neck, squeezing the back of his shirt tightly while you let out your own body-wracking sobs.

       “Don’t ever do that again,” he begs, sighing when you press a kiss to his neck.

       “Never,” you promise, nodding in agreement. Hesitantly, he leans back to look at your face and uses a thumb to wipe away a stray tear. For a moment longer, his fingers stroke your cheek before trailing down to your chin, swiftly pulling you forward for a kiss. Your lips clash together and you both let out a moan at the feeling. His bottom lip is puffy from when he had bitten on it devastatedly earlier, but you don’t hesitate to perform the same job in the heat of the moment.

       Oikawa groans before separating to allow you to breathe. The break doesn’t last long, and you sigh wantonly when he begins to attack the skin of your throat.

       “My marks are the only ones that should ever touch your neck,” he gives you a heated glance while you gaze back dazedly and nod in agreement. “Allow me to demonstrate,” he mumbles, lips brushing hotly against you with every syllable. After a harsh bite, you mewl and dig your hands into his hair, yanking on the brunet’s tufts encouragingly. 

       “Please do.”

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.

Home Alone (Hinata x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: You should never leave Hinata alone with the responsibility of the chores in the house. Especially when your next-door neighbor is a dick. 

A/N: Fuck shitty wifi, fuck fuck fuckkkkkk. Like seriously, someone please tell me I’m not the only one struggling with editing the fucking tags on posts, pleaseeee. Anyways, I was desperate for an idea, and I didn’t like this one at first, but I swear it’s good. Enjoy!

Word count: 944

        Ah, home sweet home. You were back from a business trip that required you to leave home for a week. Yes, it was only seven days, but a week of your husband home alone without supervision was seven days too many. Although, when you arrived back at your house and saw it wasn’t burned down, you were relieved to know you were worried for nothing. 

       “Shoyo, I’m back!” You closed the front door and kicked off your shoes, only to crash into the wall behind you from the force of a hug. 

       “I’m so glad you’re home, YN! I missed you so much!” His voice wavered with excitement as he smiled into your collarbone. 

       “I missed you too.” You pull away and smile at him brightly, giving a small peck to his lips. He whines at its duration before pouting.

       “YN, I need cuddles, it’s been too long.” Shoyo snatches your arm and leads you toward the bedroom, only to groan when you wriggle out of his grip. 

       “I know, I know,” you laugh, “but I’m thirsty. I’ll just get a drink real quick then I’ll join you.” His reaction worries you.

       “No!” he shouts anxiously, brown eyes wider than dinner plates.

       “Excuse me?” Your eyebrows furrow in utter confusion.

       “I’ll get it for you! You just go up to the room, I’m sure you’re tired!” He nods his head affirmatively at his own statement and places his hands on your shoulders, driving you towards your shared room. You plant your feet and stop his movements, all while giggling at his abnormal actions. 

       “Shoyo, don’t worry. I’m not that worn out.” You step into the kitchen while your husband seems to choke on air behind you. “Trust me, I’m awake enough to get myself a glass of water.” He stays suspiciously silent behind you while you peer into the empty sink on your way to the cupboards.

       “Aww, babe, thanks for doing the dishes before I came home!” 

       “Yeah sure, of course.” His voice is higher than normal, but you don’t mention it. Looking into the cupboards, you’re puzzled to find them completely empty. 

       “They’re in the washer.” 

       “Oh.” You step over to said appliance. “Well, just so you know in case I have to leave again, you can’t put too many dishes in here, otherwise it’ll-”

       Suds. Everywhere. The opening was overflowing with blue and white bubbles as soon as you pulled on the handle, and now your kitchen floor was soaked and stunk of bittersweet dish soap. Your lips draw into a firm line and you turn around to look at your ashamed husband, who avoids your gaze and rocks back and forth on his heels. He’s innocently whistling a tune with his hands held behind his back. Wonderful. 

       “It’ll do that,” you finish, chest tight with stifled frustration. Shoyo halts his actions and stares at you with shame.

       “Should I-”

       “Yeah, mop’s in the closet.” You nod your head towards the hallway. He follows your orders, until….

       “On the left,” you remind him impatiently. Your jaw aches from the constant clench.

       “Right, right.”

       Your mouth is still dry as a desert and you peer into the leaking dishwasher for any usable cup, only to smack your palm against your forehead at the sight. 

       “Shoyo, is this the laundry?” 

       “Umm, sort of?”

       “Sort of?” You reach in and retrieve his favorite shorts, waving them around in his face with a raised brow. 

       “Yes.” You huff and toss the clothing at him before rubbing your temples. A terrible, awful idea decides to smack you in the face at that moment, causing you to pause and slowly glance up at your husband. The veins in your forehead are having a field day while the rest of your body remains still.

       “Honey, if these are our clothes, where are our dishes?” Your voice is soft and patient. It’s a lure, and he knows it. 

       “W-well, they’re not in the clothes’ washer if that’s what you’re asking!” Shoyo laughs uproariously and you sigh in relief. 

       “Thank God,” you giggle softly, “‘cause for a second there I was like ‘Please tell me I didn’t marry an idiot.’” After you give him a small smile, your husband’s eyes widen and he squeaks out an “mhm!”

       You shake your head with a relieved chuckle and give him a small peck on the cheek.

       “I’m just gonna go hang up my coat, I’ll be right back.” 

       “O-okay.” He dashes into the kitchen with his requested mop and you make your way into the laundry room, dropping your jacket on the coat rack.

       Clink clink.

       What.

       The smile falls off your face instantly. Your eyes squint, and you’re not exactly sure what you’re hearing, but you know for a fact you don’t like it. 

       Clink clink.

       Oh God, please don’t tell me. Your shoulders tense as you step closer to your dryer, pausing the machine and whipping it open with tightly-shut eyes. The clanging has stopped, so you hesitantly take a peek.

       “Shoyo!”

       Silence.

       “Shoyo Hinata, why the fuck are there glass shards in the dryer?!”

       Your house rattles with the force of a slammed front door. Son of a bitch.

       Distantly, you hear a muffled, panicked shout from your husband followed by the devious cackles of your neighbor.

       “Kageyama, you lying bastard! You told me the dishes needed to dry!”

Innocent Misunderstanding (Iwaizumi x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Last night, it was all fun and games until Iwaizumi accidentally pushed you too far. To be fair, you did underestimate his strength, so it wasn’t completely his fault. That didn’t prevent you from limping to school, though.

A/N: Same old, same old. Got an idea and wrote it in the a.m. It was just a little idea, so it’s really short. I do hope y’all like it tho!

Word count: 619

        “Woah, YN, you’re walking funny! You two must have had a wild time last night.” 

       “Shut it, Shittykawa.” You flip off the man while your boyfriend tightens his supporting arm around your waist and gives his teammate a withering glare. The dull aching in your legs is still painful enough for you to grip your boyfriend’s shoulder a little harder than necessary. 

       “You’re so mean, Iwa!” The captain’s mocking whine echoes down the hall while he walks away, and girls slowly flock to his side with every step. After his back disappears in the distance, Iwaizumi grunts at your deathly grip. 

       “Jesus, YN, unclench a little, will you?” He desperately tries to wiggle away from your claws and you dig them in harder just to spite him. 

       “Stop moving, it still hurts you know.” His face grows guilty at your grumble but he remains silent, guiding you slowly to your desk. Small twinges of discomfort arise with every step you take, the pain originating from your pelvis and traveling downward. You weren’t sore, why would you be, it was just the fact that every time your feet touched the ground with even the smallest amount of pressure, your legs would start to tremble and tingle. You sighed in relief when your newborn-giraffe imitation ends with you collapsing elegantly into your chair. 

       “How are you feeling?” Iwaizumi takes his assigned seat next to your own and stares at you with worry. 

       “Like there’s a pain in my ass now.” You weren’t lying; the ache had now transferred into your tailbone. Shit, why did he have to push me so hard? I knew we should have stopped before it got really rough. His hand drops on your thigh and comfortingly massages the skin there. Meanwhile, his olive green eyes are filled with unease, and you decide to put the blame game on pause for a second. “I’m okay,” you avoid his gaze as a blush grows on your face, “it doesn’t hurt as much this morning.”

       “Good.” His pearly whites flash at you while he gives you a rare Iwa-grin. It was beautiful and blinding, and so endangered that you only caught one once every two weeks. That’s exactly why it flustered you enough to restart the game. 

       “I told you we shouldn’t have jumped on the bed last night, though.” Leaning back in your chair, you busy yourself with picking at your fingernails disinterestedly while Mount Iwaizumi slowly prepares to erupt. 

       “You’re the one who started the pillow fight!” The volleyball player frustratedly whisper-shouts at you. The rough hand on your thigh squeezes irritably and you slap your own on top of it, pressing it down to prevent any more movements.

       “Well you’re the one who pushed me off the mattress!” The repartee ends when your boyfriend clenches his jaw and seethes silently, receiving dirty looks from you and returning them with ease.

       The squeaks of someone’s tennis shoes entering the classroom are ignored in favor of you both opening your mouths once more, armed with new retorts. 

       “So, long night huh?” A smug voice sounds behind you, and the already high tensions burst through the roof. Thankfully, both sides of the war finally agree on a single reaction.

       “Shut up, Oikawa!”

Warm Embraces (Oikawa x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Naked cuddles with Oikawa need no purpose.

A/N: Sleeping at five am gets really hard when birds start chirping (just rewatched Say “I Love You” tho, so it’s worth it). Got this idea from this prompt by @otpprompts​. Enjoy this super short fic!

Word count: 581

        The door to your room opened just as you finally shut your laptop. The last of your homework was complete, and the giddy rush that came with that realization washed like a wave right over you. 

        “YN?”

        “Tooru.” Your parents must have let him in and directed him to your room. Your boyfriend smiles tiredly at your acknowledgement and shuts the door behind him while you snuggle deeper under your sheets. Heaving out an exhausted sigh, he unzips his jacket and lays it over your desk chair before lifting up his jersey.

        “Hey there, whatcha doin’?” Thankfully, your voice is solid and teasing, but your cheeks begin to betray you. He dismisses your blush, scoffing and rolling his eyes playfully. 

        “Don’t get too excited, horndog. I just wanna cuddle.”

        “Naked?”

        “Yep.” His shirt gets flung to a dark corner of your room before Oikawa gestures for you to join in the activity. Well, who were you to deny your Adonis of a boyfriend?

        After accomplishing that task, you both lazily burrow under your warm covers, clumped together rather tightly on your twin-sized bed. The close quarters didn’t mind either of you. You set up a random movie on your laptop while your boyfriend held you closely from behind, his silent breaths rousing the hair on the back of your neck. You set the volume of the laptop forgettably low and place it on your nightstand before turning back to Oikawa.

        “How did the game go?” Your fingers lightly draw obscure shapes on his athletic chest and your mouth curves into a small smile. With his hands resting on your exposed hips, he tugs you closer and presses his forehead to yours.

        “Good. We won.” The swirls of dark chocolate others would lamely call eyes are glimmering proudly at the memory, and his thin, pink lips curl at the corners. 

        “I hope so, ‘cause you’re really sweaty.” Your boyfriend gawks at your words and then whines exaggeratedly.

        “You’re so mean! Way to ruin the moment.” He pulls away from you with a pout and grumbles under his breath. Giggling at the action, you reach up and bring his lips to your own, giving him a short, gentle kiss to make up for it. Separating hesitantly, Oikawa licks his lips with debating eyes.

        “Apology accepted,” he declares decidedly while wrapping his arms around your waist and pinning his chest against yours. His body was warm and unexpectedly comfortable, but you busied yourself with dipping your fingers into his hair and combing through the brown locks fondly. Sighing contentedly, your boyfriend tucks his head into the side of your neck and plants affectionate kisses here and there. 

        Before long, his movements slow and his breaths become heavy. Hot puffs of air tickle the fresh marks on your skin he couldn’t resist to make. You intertwine your bare legs with his own and snuggle closer to his soft hair, not hesitating to press a small kiss into the wild, slightly-sweaty strands. The muscles throughout your body relax in his tender, tired hold one by one, and your eyes begin to droop. At last, with the sounds of Oikawa’s deep exhales and the drones of the movie behind you, you finally fall into a warm, blissful slumber.

Grudges and Ice Cream (Daichi x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: After your boyfriend completely forgets your one year anniversary together, you decide to give him the cold shoulder. He gives you an even colder shoulder. 

A/N: Tired as a biscuit, but I got an idea and wanted to post it. I’ve been going through a dry spell on ideas thanks to this isolation and the fear of accidentally copying another person, so I’m sorry I haven’t been writing much. Here’s something for the totally-underrated Karasuno captain. Enjoy!

Word count: 1779

        Okay, you’ll admit, you forget things a lot. Homework, grocery lists, a name or two. One time you even left cookies in the oven and almost burned your house down. But you never, never forgot important dates. Anniversaries especially. You guessed, in this case, that your boyfriend was your complete opposite. What he had forgotten was almost unforgivable. It was your one-year anniversary. You had even spent a whole week gushing over what you two would do tonight. How could he forget?

       Now, you sat in your room, waiting for a text from Daichi that would probably never come. It was midnight after all. The black screen of your phone was boring into your soul, and your heart began to ache. A tear paved its way down your cheek and soaked into your pajamas before being joined by some friends. It hurt to be forgotten.

       The last time Daichi had communicated with you was a few hours ago when he had texted that practice was running late, and that he probably didn’t have time to come over. Why couldn’t he make time for me on our anniversary? Swiping your phone off your bed and plugging it in for the night, you tugged your knees in tight to your chest and cradled yourself to sleep, salty trails remaining to be seen in the morning.

                               ~~~

       The next day at school, you shut Daichi out any way you could. If he tried to give you a hug, you would shrug him off and walk away. If he tried to talk to you, you would plug in your earbuds and turn to the side. Not once did he lose his patience with you. He would just huff and watch you before leaving, and it almost hurt that he didn’t try harder to know what was going on. You understood you were being petty, but after the night you had, you wanted someone else to feel your frustration. 

       The bell at the end of the day was music to your ears. You trudged your way out of class and into the storminess of the outdoors. If you were some weirdo, you would say the rain was fitting with your mood, but let’s face the facts: the droplets were relaxing, satisfying, and were making you happy after the shitty anniversary you had yesterday. Hiking your bag up higher on your shoulder, you allowed a small smile to grow on your face. It dropped like it was hot when you felt a familiar presence next to you. 

       “Don’t you have a volleyball practice to get to?” was what you were about to say. You had to bite your tongue viciously to remind yourself that we do the silent treatment in these here parts. 

       “So, you’re really going to ignore me all day?” Daichi looked at your expectantly. You simply raised your head haughtily in response, only to catch a raindrop in the eye and blink frantically like you put in the wrong contact. He sighed. “Can you please just tell me what’s wrong?”

       Silence. 

       He huffed and his mouth pressed into a hard line on his face. The trip to your house was tense and awkward, and you were running low on pettiness. When the other person doesn’t catch on, it’s just not as satisfying. And he didn’t seem to find you as funny as you did when you slammed his foot in the front door while trying to stop him from coming in. You snickered under your breath at the event before making your way to your room. He followed your every move up until you stepped into the bathroom. A pleasant, skin-scorching shower was just what you needed to rebuild your resolve against your boyfriend. When he finally realized what you were about to do, he backed up with a frown while you slammed the door in his face. 

       “YN, please just tell me what’s wrong!” You set your towel on the counter and begin to undress, starting the water to shut out your boyfriend’s pleas. The shower was much-needed, and you let out a sigh of relief at the wave of peace that washed over you. You began to hum a song while washing your hair, only to freeze up at the sound of the door opening. Daichi had stepped into the room, but as you waited with blazing eyes and clenched fists over your intimate areas for the curtain to whip open, the door anticlimactically shut once more. You were simultaneously relieved and disappointed. Not that make-up sex would cause you to forgive him, but it certainly might help. That, however, didn’t seem to be his plan. Shame.

       His actual plan was a million times worse. Like if there was an award for the worst plan ever, your dumbass boyfriend would win. What a dumbass. You had deduced this when you washed away the soap from your body and turned off the now-cold water, reaching blindly from behind the curtain for your towel only to touch damp porcelain. Your pruney hand dug around for a few more seconds before you released a groan of frustration, pulling back the cover just enough to poke your head out and continue the towel hunt. 

       “Daichi!” 

       Your boyfriend entered with a smug smirk and a towel in hand. “Yes, my love?”

       “Really?” You gestured to the cloth with raised eyebrows and pursed lips.

       “Yep.” He nodded. 

       “How old are you?”

       “I’m just giving you a taste of your own medicine, sweetheart. I mean seriously, the silent treatment? I already have to deal with enough children at volleyball.” He waved around the towel while he ranted and you scoffed at the slight. Stupid, man-stealing sport.

       “Look, just give me my towel already, it’s getting cold!” 

       “Just tell me what’s wrong and I will.” 

       “Umm, how ‘bout you just try to figure that one out on your own?”

       “Then how ‘bout you just sit in there and enjoy the hypothermia?” His voice was tight and his face scrunched up angrily. 

       “Fine, I will!” You fiercely close the shower curtain and sit on the wet floor, huffing sourly. The air of the room is thick with steam, but the tension it’s mingling with is thicker. Daichi seems to grow tired of it and leaves the room once more, his stomps trailing out into the hallway. After peering out once more, you become confused when your towel is still gone. What the hell is that doofus doing? You tuck your head back in when he returns, shutting the door and reclaiming his spot on the floor. In his hands, however, was not only your towel, but also a bucket of ice cream. Your ice cream. Rat bastard! He sets your towel back up on the counter along with a second spoon while he digs into your frozen treat with the first. 

       “Mmm, this flavor is de-li-cious! You have good taste in ice cream, YN.” You sneer and grumble under your breath, more than pissed off. He chuckles, sounding very self-satisfied. “Oh, I’m sorry, babe, did you want some?” 

       “No,” you hiss, hugging your knees to your chest and rapidly rubbing your legs up and down for warmth.

       “If you just tell me what’s wrong, I’ll gladly feed you some.”

       “I’m good.” You shivered.

       “Fine. I guess I’ll just have to eat this all on my own….” He trailed off suggestively, but you only curled in tighter on yourself and set your chin on your knees, pursing your lips in boredom. Here your… boob of a boyfriend was, cockily eating your ice cream in your bathroom, totally unaware of the one-year anniversary that he forgot! You wanted to call him much worse names, but the water drying coolly on your skin was really messing with you at this point. It was freezing in your house, especially during spring, just when it begins to rain outside but it’s no longer cold enough to require the house heater to be on and prepared. This sucked, and your dipwad boyfriend didn’t even know why. 

       After some time, he had audibly whipped out his phone and tapped away on it, still noisily chomping on your ice cream. There were no chunks in that flavor anyway, how the hell did he manage to eat it so loudly?! “Oh hey, look, Sugawara just got a new dog yesterday, how adorable. We should go meet it soon, maybe tomorrow?” You clenched your eyes closed and tucked your face down onto your knees. He kept going. “There’s a new restaurant near Coach’s store, we could go there sometime.” A headache grew from how tightly your jaw was clenched, and your teeth ground together harshly. Your lips felt blue and frozen shut at this point. “Aww, how nice. Asahi even wished us a happy… oh shit.” A clang echoed throughout the cooled bathroom. The spoon. “Oh god.” Yeah, dipstick, get it now? “Oh crap. YN, I am so sorry.” One year. One whole year you had been with him. You had just wanted to celebrate it with him. But he forgot.

       “Can I have my t-towel now?” Your teeth chattered and your nose sniffled. The hair on your arms was covered in goosebumps which you repeatedly massaged with trembling hands. Daichi scrambles over and whips open the curtain, hastily wrapping you in the warm cotton cloth before lifting you out and onto his lap. Nervously, he rocks you back and forth in his lap while rubbing your arms comfortingly. He’s whispering rushed apologies into your half-dried hair, obviously rattled at his mistake. 

       “N-next time you f-forget, I’m gonna k-kill you.” Your threat lost credibility when you snuggled in closer to his chest, sighing at the warmth. He chuckles shakily and wraps his arms around you tighter.

       “And I wouldn’t stop you. I’m so, so sorry, sweetheart. I’ll make it up to you for the rest of my life.” He presses a kiss into your hair before resting his head on top of yours, holding you closer onto his rather bulky lap while he dismisses the fact that you're a little, erm, au naturel. But you’re not complaining, there’s plenty of room to sit. 

       “You b-better,” you mutter, remembering his words.

       “I definitely will, love, I promise. For now, how does some ice cream sound?”

       “F-fucking freezing.”

Praiseworthy (Bokuto x Reader) (NSFW)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: After winning his volleyball game, Bokuto comes over wanting to celebrate. The both of you sure know how to throw a thrilling two-person party. 

A/N: (I literally listened to “Crazy in Love Remix” the whole time I wrote this, so it gets a little serious and steamy. I ain’t sorry.) I’m definitely going to hell for this…. Oh well. I wrote this to celebrate getting 100 followers, so thank you so much! This is my first NSFW however, so please don’t raise it to any high standards. Anyways, here’s Bokuto with a praise kink. Enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT!!!, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex,  praise kink

Word count: 2659

        You were at home working on an essay for your class and moping about missing your boyfriend’s volleyball game when you got his texts.

Owl-baby: WE WON OUR GAMEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!

Owl-baby: I’m coming over to get my reward ;)

       Smiling widely at the news, you shook your head at his antics. His reward usually consisted of movies and tight cuddles while he excitedly told you all about the game you shamefully missed. You looked forward to nights like those just as much as he did, but you were usually less vocal about it. Nonetheless, you were thankful your parents were out visiting relatives for the whole weekend, and began to prepare the living room for the inevitable snuggle session with Bokuto. Movie, check. Popcorn, check. Blankets, check. Boyfriend… the doorbell rang just as you picked up your phone to text him. A light, happy feeling flowed through your chest as you answered the door. As per usual, you choked out a breath after being tackled in a tight hug, but you never minded. 

       “Did you get my message?! We won, YN, we’re going to Nationals!” He was shaking with excitement and squeezed your sides as a result, making you jerk in his arms before laughing. 

       “Yes, of course I heard, Kou. I’m so proud of you.” You smiled softly while pulling away, holding his cheeks in your palms and rubbing them gently with your thumbs. Bokuto bit his lip at the action and placed his hands over your own, leaning in for a slow, deep kiss which you gladly returned. When he broke away, his golden orbs were abnormally dark and his pupils dilated after making eye contact with you. For an instant, his hands gripped yours harder before his eyes glanced back down at your lips, licking his own instinctively.

       “Tell me again,” he mumbled, cheeks growing red at his own words. His voice, however, was strong and didn’t waver once while he watched you intensely.

       “What?” you asked confusedly. You weren’t quite sure what he was getting at.

       “Tell me how good I did. Please.” You faltered at his request and sucked in a short breath at the implication. Running your fingers down his neck and back into his hair ever so slowly, you leaned your head in closer to his ear. 

       “You did so good, baby. So, so good.” His breaths were labored as you tugged on the strands between your fingers. His own hands, which had fallen down to your hips, were bruising at this point. Suddenly, he crashed his lips against yours once more and slammed you back against the wall in your home’s entryway. The pictures on the wall shook with the force, but you were too distracted to care. Even the movie playing in the background faded away as Bokuto’s tongue asked for entrance into your mouth. You let him in easily, fighting for dominance while occasionally separating for a breath. Every time you two rejoined, your teeth clashed from the battle, but it was too heated for you to notice. His hands slid down to your thighs and tugged on them encouragingly, a signal for you to jump. You listened to the orders and hooked your feet together behind his back. He carried you to your room blindly but surprisingly well, lips never breaking for a second. 

       His strong hands clutched your ass while you kept your own grip in his hair, keeping his head angled up at you for easy access. Bokuto backed up into your bedroom and kicked the door shut, the slam not concerning either of you. Pulling away, you both gasped for air with puffy lips and rosy cheeks while your boyfriend navigated his way to your bed. Slowly lowering you down, you fell back gently onto the soft blankets, tugging his face to join you. He smirked, running his thumb along your lower lip to spread the stray drop of saliva that had been located there before obeying your wish, his tongue reentering your mouth. His hands left your ass to slide up your shirt, caressing your sides tenderly. You, on the other hand, hooked your fingers into his pants’ belt loops and drew him in, grinding harshly against the hard tent in his pants. 

       “Oh fuck,” he groaned breathlessly, pressing his forehead against yours while he returned the favor, sticking to the pace you had set while his fingertips tweaked your nipples through your bra. The touch shot a wave of pleasure straight down to your heat, and your thighs tightened around his hips instinctively at the sensation. Your whimpers were loud and shameless as you ground into him, ignoring the gushing crawling its way down your thighs. Bokuto looked back into your eyes and silently asked to undress you. You nodded in approval with heavily lidded eyes, lifting your arms to help him in the deed, and you did the same for him, throwing away the devilish shirt before tracing your fingertips in the grooves of his abs. 

       “Ah!” You let out a cry of surprise when the golden-eyed man tore your bra away from your chest, ripping the fabric in the process as he tossed it forgettably behind him. On any other day, you would have scolded him. Today, however, there was no time. You needed him. You didn’t even mind when his eyes hungrily stared at your chest before he pounced, taking a hardened nipple into his mouth and harshly sucking. When you had first gotten together, your hands had instantly reacted, covering your breasts shyly while you avoided eye contact. He had to gently coax your hands away while constantly reminding you that you were gorgeous. Now, you learned your lesson. Bokuto thought you were beautiful and he wanted you. And there was no stopping him when he wanted something. Even the second time he had seen you bare while you tried to hide, he jumped on you too quickly. Every time he got you naked, he was always somewhere on your skin. Touching, stroking, caressing, biting. Bokuto used everything he had when he was with you. Teeth, hands, even his thighs were often used to hold you down while you trembled under his will. 

       “Oh shit,” you moaned breathlessly. His mouth was leaving a display of hickeys all over the span of your chest, and one of his hands had slid under your arched back to press you closer to him and keep you still as you squirmed. Your lungs were begging for air as you gasped at the feeling of Bokuto’s lips, hands tugging his hair harshly. While you were distracted, his other hand traced a hot trail down the middle of your body, sliding past your belly button and slipping into your thin panties. Huh, that’s weird, my pants are gone. You had been too caught up that you hadn’t even noticed the only barriers now separating you and your boyfriend were his boxers and your barely-there undergarments. 

       “Damn, baby, is that lace?” He uttered hotly while glancing up at you from your freshly marked chest. Hesitantly, you nodded in response and he groaned, abruptly burying a finger deep inside you. You mewl loudly, moving your hands down to dig your nails into his shoulders, leaving marks you wouldn’t mind seeing in the morning. Your head falls back, pressing harshly into the mattress while Bokuto begins to rub furious, fast-paced circles onto your clit. “You treat me so well, sweetheart,” he groans, his other hand squeezing your hip to keep you firmly in place as you shiver from pleasure. 

       “Ah fuck!” you whine desperately. “Keep going, you’re doing so good.” The encouragement causes him to whimper while he digs another finger inside you, thrusting in and out too quickly for you to comprehend. The waves of pleasure are wracking through your body like never before, and you yelp when your boyfriend suddenly presses his thumb brutally against your clit, making your whole body convulse. At last, it becomes too much and you shakily warn him, “I’m gonna come.” 

       “Come for me, baby.” His words trigger an abundance of arousal, and immediately your juices flow out around his fingers as the bubble finally bursts inside your chest. Your moans are almost pornographic at this point, but you can’t help it. He feels too good. Bokuto watches your display with glimmering, ravenous eyes, and swiftly hops off the bed, removing his boxers in a split second before tugging your soaked panties down your legs and tossing them away. You’re still trying to catch your breath when he mounts on top of you, sliding his hips once more between your thighs like it’s where they’re meant to be. You don’t mind that thought, basking in the idea before it flies away along with the rest of your thoughts as Bokuto returns a finger back to your heat, gathering some remains from the inside of your thighs and popping it inside his mouth, giving it a small taste. 

       His reaction makes you burn crimson as he moans. “Goddamn baby.” He looks into your eyes and starts to hover over you, grabbing both of your wrists and trapping them directly above your head with one hand while the other positions his throbbing erection at your entrance. “The only one who gets to taste you is me,” he informs you possessively, golden orbs glowing at the thought. 

       You smile tenderly at him and agree. “Of course baby, you’re so good for me. I wouldn’t dream of it.” Your praise causes him to puff out his chest and smirk, and you wiggle your hips to remind him of the original plan. He takes the hint and abruptly thrusts into you in one swift motion. Your whole body jolts at the movement and you moan in surprise. Bokuto releases your hands and grabs both of your hips tightly, plunging into you swiftly. The feeling of him rapidly reaching deeper and harder inside of you, raking along your walls harshly causes your toes to curl. He hits that oh-so wonderful spot deep inside of you, and your jaw drops in pure euphoria at the feeling. His groans match yours in volume, and you absolutely adore that about him. Taking advantage of your free hands, you raise them up to his intensely focused face, caressing his cheek softly while moaning aloud. 

       His golden eyes burst open and he leans his head into your touch, his thrusts slowing slightly. You rub your thumbs back and forth across the apples of his cheeks while cooing, “You feel so good, Kou, don’t ever stop.” The reaction from him is instant. Already prepared, you dig your fingernails into his back and drag them down while hanging on for dear life as he pumps into you harder than before. The stinging from his back combined with your tightness causes him to bury his face into your neck, biting down in pleasure as his thrusts quicken even more. You whimper at his teeth, crying out and grabbing his biceps for stability as the mattress squeaks, the noise reverberating around the room and mixing lewdly with the sounds of pleasure. He peels your hands away, pressing them into the sheets above your head before intertwining his fingers with your own. His erratic pace begins to lose its steady rhythm as he grunts out your name deeply, gripping your palms harder. 

       Watching your face from above, he relishes in the sight of your open mouth and darkened eyes, not hesitating to combine your lips before he mumbles against them, “You’re so tight baby, I’m gonna come.” His hands grasp yours tightly and you squeeze them back in return.

       “Me too, Kou. Ah! Just like that, don’t stop!” His thrusts speed up in response, and the coil that had been slowly winding up deep within you is becoming unbearably compressed. Finally, it breaks, and you clench around him tightly while you release, overflowing just as before while your legs shudder uncontrollably. Bokuto groans at your tightness and releases as well, collapsing right on top of you. You let out a huff of air at the sudden drop, and giggle softly while running your hands through his sweaty, black and white hair. Your tired boyfriend’s breathing is labored, but still more controlled and calm than your own as you both bask in the afterglow you’ve created. Stupid volleyball stamina. As if he heard your thoughts, Bokuto perks back up, heaving himself back up on his hands and knees over you and peering deep into your eyes pleadingly. 

       “One more round?” he bargains, his hands running up and down your thighs, every time drawing closer to your sore, abused opening. He wants to keep going?! You shake your head and open your mouth to refuse, only to mewl and whimper when he begins to rub your overstimulated clit. He was harshly riding the fine line between pain and pleasure, but that wasn’t new with Bokuto. Suddenly, your mind goes foggy when he begins to stroke up and down along your core, enticing high-pitched whines out of you. He smiles brightly when your hands reach up and grip his shoulders in preparation for what was to come next. 

       Maybe just one more round won’t hurt.

                               ^^^

       So that was a fucking lie.

       When you woke up the next morning trapped in Bokuto’s tight grasp, your whole body howled in pain. Your fingers, your back, your legs. Hell, even your toes were sore. But that didn’t distract you at all from the amount of pressure in your bladder. I have to pee, I have to pee, I have to pee. You kept repeating that to yourself while you attempted to squirm out of your boyfriend’s death grip, only to panic and groan at the feeling of his arms tightening around your waist. His movements didn’t help your situation at all. Startled by the overwhelming fear that you might just not make it to the bathroom, you begin to writhe around like a fish out of water in his arms. At last, Bokuto whines from behind you, releasing an exhausted yawn. 

       “Why are you trying to leave?” He drops a muscular thigh over your hips, effectively putting a halt to your wriggling as well as more firmly trapping you to the mattress. You scoff humorously at the action before twisting in his grip to look at his face. 

       Patting his cheek, you sulkily explain, “I have to go to the bathroom.”

       “Do you have to?” His arms tighten.

       “Yes!” you exclaim exasperatedly. He opens his arms and you smile gratefully before turning and sitting up, setting your feet on the floor. However, just as you stand up, your knees give in and collapse directly under you, causing you to face plant on the floor with a yelp.

       “Oh shit, YN! Are you okay?!” Bokuto rapidly crawls his way over to you from his side of the bed, peering down at you on the floor.

       “Oh yeah, just peachy,” you sass back, muffled by a mouthful of carpet. Your arms burn as you try to lift yourself up. You settle for rolling over like a beached whale and shyly make eye contact with your boyfriend. “Umm, can you help me for a sec, babe?” 

       “Oh, of course!” He scrambles off the mattress and lifts you into his arms, carrying you into the bathroom bridal-style and setting you down on the sink. Ever so slowly, you hop off and stand on two trembling legs like a newborn giraffe, hanging onto the porcelain for dear life while your boyfriend watches with an amused expression. 

       “That good, huh?” he asks cheekily, waggling his eyebrows at you. You don’t hesitate to slam the door in his face, your cheeks on fire. He wasn’t wrong, though. It was totally worth it. 

Misleading Marks (Iwaizumi x Reader/Soulmate AU)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Your soulmark is a wonderfully misleading pain in the tuchus. Luckily, your hunk of a soulmate makes it all worth it. 

A/N: Started off rough, but I swear the ending is better. Love me some good old soulmate aus. Enjoy!

Word count: 1803

        When your soulmark first popped up on your wrist, you adored its simplicity. It had come to you on the morning of your fifteenth birthday, and you couldn’t help but admire it the whole day. Even through school, your teachers had eventually given up on gathering your attention. You were otherwise occupied with worshiping the blatant statement on your wrist. “Hi, my name is Oikawa,” it read, and you kept rubbing your thumb over it, eventually developing a nervous habit from the act. You couldn’t help it; it was comforting. Knowing someone was out there, perfect for you. And easily detectable thanks to their words. You felt blessed.

       That mindset on your soulmark didn’t last long. Soon, you attended Karasuno High School and made new friends. Friends who had more exciting soulmarks. For example, Kiyoko had the cheesy pickup line “Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?” inscribed on the inside of her forearm. While she found it less than satisfactory and often cursed fate for giving her a pervert for a soulmate, you thought it was rather endearing. The person meant for her seemed playful and fun, and you begin to think of your own soulmate differently. Insecurities began to run through your mind more and more every day. Even Sugawara, another friend of yours, had a cute phrase. “Do you have candles for all that cake?” Adorable. A little straightforward, but you liked it nonetheless.

       Just to be clear, you adored your friends, and you were happy they had gotten such fun soulmates. But to be honest, their marks made you jealous, and at times you would stare at your own and wonder if you were destined for simplicity like that for the rest of your life. It was, after all, your soulmate’s first words to you. But before you could judge, you wanted to meet him. Oikawa, your apparent soulmate. 

                               ~~~

       It was your third year of high school before you ever heard his name aloud. While helping Kiyoko manage a practice volleyball game at Aoba Johsai, you finally heard the name you had been waiting for for three years. 

       “Oikawa, so glad you’re back, you pain in the ass. Now come out here and set for us!” The spikey-haired ace of the opposing team demanded with admittedly attractive folded arms. 

       “You’re so mean, Iwaizumi! Can’t you take it a little easy on me? I am injured, after all,” the brunet whined. The rest of the argument faded away as you dazed off in wonder. At first, your eyes were still stuck on the ace, but you began to feel guilty and pulled them away to stare at the newcomer. At your soulmate. He was hot so was that “Iwaizumi”, tall, and playful, many traits you admired in a guy. But he just seemed… disappointing for some reason. He seemed wrong. You chalked it up to your past predictions of him being lame. After all, you couldn’t let feelings like those get in your way. You were closer than ever to meeting the man on your wrist; Kiyoko had even given you a pointed look, which you had shaken off. Meeting with him would have to wait till after the game. 

                               ~~~

       Whelp, the game had ended fairly quickly, but damn did Oikawa have an arm. It was like a rocket, and you couldn’t help but compare it to the ace’s on his own team. You know, for strength-wise comparison’s sake, totally not anything else. Totally. Anyways, after the teams thanked each other and you helped Kiyoko clean up the stray water bottles, you asked her for advice on how to talk to him. 

       “Just go do it,” she shrugged, her voice flat and matter-of-fact-like. When you had first met her, the emotionless she seemed to have irked you at first. Now that you had known her for years and become her best friend, however, you knew she cared deep down. Her tone when she spoke just never showed it, and you were finally used to it. What you were not okay with, now, was her terrible advice.

       “Seriously? That’s it, that’s all you got? ‘Just go do it’? Dude, you’re killing me here.” She sent you a withering glare at your whining and you froze at the sight. Oh right, she was friggin’ terrifying at times, too. 

       “It’s now or never, YN.” Okay, that one got to you. She was right, this could be your last chance, or your first meeting with your soulmate. Only you could decide. Flashing her a grateful smile, you rushed out a “thank you” before jogging to the other bench on the court where he was packing up equipment as well. 

       “H-hey, um, I’m YN,” you stammered and bit your lip bitterly at the embarrassing first words he definitely had on his body now.

       With an arrogant glint in his eyes, he smiled back charmingly at you and smoothly replied, “Nice to meet you. I’m Oikawa.” Uh oh. Those aren’t the right words. Now you have an itty bitty problem. 

       “Oh.” That’s all you could manage to sputter.

       “Oh?” he questioned cheekily, taking a step toward you. You stumbled back at his advancement while laughing nervously. Visibly confused at your reaction, Oikawa furrowed his brows while he halted himself in place a foot or two away from you. 

       Finally having enough breathing room, you shake your head to clear it. An action which you soon come to regret as you seemed to have lost your filter in the process. You question him thoughtlessly, “Do you have any siblings?” Thankfully, he doesn’t appear to take offense. Oikawa was smarter than he looked, as he caught on quickly. 

       “Not any that don’t already have soulmates,” he answered pityingly, eyes softening at the words on your wrist. 

       Swiftly, you tug your mark behind your back and wave your other hand dismissively. “That’s okay. Umm I have to go now, bye.” Without another word, you hustle out of the room and out to the bus waiting to return to Karasuno, not actually sad but more frustrated at the sympathetic eyes that trailed after you.

Stomping angrily up the bus steps, you sat down harshly in the seat next to Kiyoko, who questioned you silently. You only shook your head in response, your mouth setting into a hard line. She didn’t say anything but grabbed your hand and squeezed it comfortingly. Lips quirking up at the action, you squeeze back gratefully before shifting around in your seat and falling asleep to the bus ride’s gentle lulling.

                               ~~~

       Seeing him again made your heart pang slightly. It was the first official tournament of Karasuno’s volleyball season, the Interhigh Preliminaries. You were alone in your section of stands, and happened to be one of the few people here to support your school. But still, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to the other court.

There, Aoba Johsai was playing. No, they were winning, and by a landslide at that. Oikawa was smirking, but you figured that was his normal facial expression at this point. However, he wasn’t the one who had caught your attention right off the bat. It was that damn brown-haired ace again, and watching his muscles flex everywhere right before he spiked was… thrilling in a way. Your eyes pledged loyalty to his biceps, and you weren’t one to go back on your promises. At least, until you had to pee. Nature called, and you really had to pick up. 

       After doing your business and washing up, you pushed your way out of the bathroom and waved your hands around like an enthusiastic nutcase to air-dry. 

       “Damn empty paper tow-” your bitter mumbling was interrupted by a voice that was evidently more familiar to your heart than to your brain. Giving in to its demands, you subconsciously followed the sound while simultaneously eavesdropping on the conversation. 

       “Why don’t you just ask her out then, Shittykawa?”

       “You know I hate that nickname, Iwa. And plus, I’ve only talked to her once before at that practice game against my annoying prodigy.”

       “So what? You’ve asked out girls before without even knowing their names.” Their voices were getting closer, and just as you step around the corner into your hallway, you make eye contact with that panty-dropper of an ace- oh shit, where’d that come from? He looks back to his friend- is that Oikawa?- before continuing, “Just walk over to her and say,” the volleyball player halted his words before directing them at you in a mockingly shrill voice and imitating, “Hi, my name is Oikawa.” A shock flowed through your system and you tensed up at the words. Oh, hello there, not Oikawa. You knew you should respond. But even though you didn’t want to dishonor yourself and your cow, your jaw felt wired shut. Your mouth, however, got a little impatient at your lame excuse. 

       “I thought your name was Iwaizumi.” Your soulmate stopped in his tracks and stared at you in amazement. Yeah buddy, now you know how I feel.

Oikawa’s whines began to fade away along with the world around you as you gawk at the ace, but that was nothing new. You zone out all the time while staring creepily at people, it’s just that now it’s socially acceptable because he’s your soulmate.

His olive orbs are captivating, but not enough to distract you from the awkward silence that begins to ensue. It was painfully quiet, and after a while you tried to escape his eyes and look away only for your eyes to stop at his broad chest, disappointingly covered in an open white and turquoise jacket. Sadly, his jersey resided underneath. You know, lately I’ve heard that going around shirtless is all the rage nowadays. Wanna be more trendy? Hey, maybe next time you could say that out loud. Soulmates were supposed to love each other implicitly, so he might actually listen, right? You're halted in your mental rambling when Iwaizumi begins to chuckle, causing a wrinkle in his shirt. That wouldn’t be a problem if he just took it off. Suddenly, you have to dropkick yourself out of your daze when he begins to speak, figuring you should probably start learning how to listen to others now that you found your “other half.” 

       “Sorry you almost thought you were stuck with Shittykawa here for a second.” He gestures to that one guy standing next to him while glancing down at your soulmark. Without another thought, you begin to smile widely at him, reveling in the mischievous twinkle in his catlike eyes while savoring the lovable grin on his face. Fate, you sneaky bastard. You win this round.

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?” 

Don’t Slouch (Tsukishima x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: You’ve got a bad habit. You know that. So why does that blond smartass in your class keep ragging you about it?

A/N: I’m tired, but I didn’t wanna forget this idea. I wasn’t even gonna write tonight, but we already here, so… voila. (Btw, thanks for the follows and likes!!)

Word count: 1074

        “Slouching’s bad for you, you know.” Kei Tsukishima, the tall, skinny, blond volleyball player who sat in the desk next to yours, remarked. At first, you thought it wasn’t him who spoke, as he hadn’t even looked at you when he said it, but you knew his arrogant voice. It was one of a kind. When you glanced at his blank face, it was directed towards the bag on his desk, obviously searching for something as his long fingers sifted through papers. 

       “So?” you retorted lamely, your head upturned at him with a raised brow. Though, you couldn’t care less how you sounded. You just wanted to return to studying for midterms, but his sudden blurting made you feel obligated to respond. 

       “So don’t slouch,” he shrugged simply, pulling his headphones up over his ears and leaving the classroom for lunch. Scoffing confusedly, you shake your head and return to the books, subconsciously straightening out your back and dismissing the cracks that ran through it. 

                               ~~~

       Eyes anxiously scanning over the test, you nervously searched for any mistakes you may have made on the answer sheet. Your forehead dripped with sweat, and your breathing grew heavy. Crap, why did tests always rile you up like this, especially the important ones? This sucked. Flinching when the alarm sounded, signalling you were out of time, you hesitantly rose from your desk and dragged your feet to the teacher’s desk, handing her your test with shaky, unsure hands before returning to your seat and ducking your head into your arms. The footsteps around you from your fellow classmates gathering their things and exiting the classroom did nothing to block out the snicker from beside you. 

       “You really should stop slouching so much. You’re going to ruin your posture.” Tsukishima, again, single-handedly irritated you once more in the blink of an eye. What an amazing ability he has for pissing you off. 

       Huffing out a breath, you reluctantly twisted your head to face him, muttering, “What’s it to you, glasses?” 

       “Just saying it’s a rather unhealthy habit of yours,” he mused, flashing you a small smirk while swiftly pushing his glasses up his nose. Returning his expression with a sarcastic smile of your own, you ran your middle finger down the side of your face discreetly before dropping your head back into your arms exhaustedly. Chuckling under his breath, the blond’s footsteps echoed throughout the room as he walked away, leaving you alone in your self-degradation over your estimated test results. 

                               ~~~

       The boy just didn’t seem to know how to let things go. He had criticized you for your slouching in the last year more than he had ever conversed with you in the twelve years that you have known him. That’s right, you and Tsukishima have been going to the same schools since you were both in diapers. Truth be told, you weren’t friends, but you weren’t complete strangers either. Plus, he always seemed to be a lone wolf, at least until Yamaguchi came along. So, even though he rarely talked to you before your first year of high school, his tolerance of your slouching habit seemed to have reached the end of its rope. He haughtily reamed your ass over it every single time he got the chance. Finishing the remainder of your homework for the day? Oh you bet he’s just a-waitin’ over your shoulder. 

       “Would you like some advice?”

       “Is it to stop slou-”

       “Don’t slouch.” Insert your groan here. Was that the only Japanese this guy knew?

       Maybe you’re just contentedly discussing movies with your friends? Yep, he’s got something to say.

       “Hey, YN, what’s that one series called again?” he interrupted, “‘Slouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon?’” 

       “‘Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon,’” you had corrected him tightly, jaw twitching in irritation. Eventually, you hit your boiling point; but hey, a little threatening never hurt anybody… right? 

       Four days ago:

       “Hey YN?”

       “Ughhh, what Tsukishima? What, what, what?”

       “Stop slouching so much.”

       “I swear I’m gonna strangle you one of these days, beanstalk.” 

       Two days ago:

       “Don’t slouch.” 

       “Excuse me?”

       “Don’t slouch so much. You look like the cat of a witch.”

       “Oh my Go- you know what? I’m gonna castrate you. Slowly, at first, and then I’m gonna kick it up a notch. Just for you, beanpole.” You thought it was a grand idea, but he only laughed in your face and walked away. This guy’s gonna be the reason I have a drinking problem.

       Yesterday:

       “Don’t sl-”

       You threateningly pointed at him with serious, wide eyes and raised brows. “I will snap you like a twig.” A chuckle. That’s all you got. 

       Finally, you had it. It was almost the end of the school year, and you just wanted to know why, even coming up with a theory of your own. But the question you believed you had the answer to still stood. Why did he keep bugging you about an issue that was definitely only yours to fix? So you caught him after school, and told him what you thought of his constant lectures. After all, they had kept you up all night last night, and maybe you had gone a little crazy, but you think you finally figured out why he was doing it. 

       “Hey.” You were following him down the steps of the school. “Hey Tsukishima!” you called, barely avoiding tripping over your own feet.

       “What?” he responded gruffly, turning around to stare at you with obvious annoyance. 

       “I think I’ve figured out why you keep telling me to stop slouching.” Smiling victoriously, you nodded your head affirmatively at your own statement.

       “Oh really?” he challenged with a heightened brow, a lopsided grin slowly forming. 

       “Yep. You’re just trying to tell me to stand tall. No matter what happens, what grade I get, or how I do on a test, you want me to keep my head high and my back straight. Before I figured that out, I thought it was annoying. Now, I think it’s really sweet of you-”

       He rolled his eyes before he interrupted you with pink-tinged cheeks. “Psh, that’s not it. I just don’t want my future wife to have a hunchback when we grow old together.” 

       Oh. 

       Ohhhhhhh.

Language of Love (Akaashi x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Speaking French in front of your crush was not as discreet as you originally thought. Maybe you should just start texting from now on… 

A/N: I’m so thankful for the growth that has happened to my account in the small span of 48 hours! Here’s a short imagine that I got an idea for from this prompt by @writ-ing-promp-ts​. Akaashi is really OOC, so I’m sorry. And I also kinda rambled on too long in the first part, but oh well, I’m a lil tired. Enjoy! :) 

Word count: 1240

        The courtyard of Fukurodani was beautiful, to say the least. It was springtime, and you sat just below a freshly-bloomed cherry blossom tree. The pastel pink petals surrounded you either on the grass or floating with the wind. The flowery scent you inhaled was barely noticeable over the cold breeze it accompanied. The sun shined, birds chirped, bees buzzed, and you… well, you were jabbering in French to your sick best friend over the phone. You were sweating like a pig thanks to the topic of conversation, and occasionally flapped your arms up and down like the chicken dance just to dry off. Gross, right? Yeah, you thought so too. But the anxiety of talking about a crush in any language was enough to provoke undesirable side effects. 

        Setting down your phone to take off the hot blazer that was just making everything worse, you whined into the microphone, “Il est tellement attirant que je pourrais mourir. (He is so attractive that I could die.)” Your hand caught in a sleeve, so you began screeching at the jacket you were currently wedged in and attracted some unwanted attention. You nervously smiled at your fellow classmates before laughing and shrugging at your own predicament. Giving you sneers, they exaggeratedly stepped away from your general area before  exiting through the school’s gates while whispering among themselves. The smile on your face dropped into a snarl as you pulled with all your might on the stupid mandatory blazer. 

        Not realizing you were currently busy, your ever-so-sympathetic friend replied, “Arrête d'être un bébé et avoue déjà. Tu es trop dramatique. Il ne te mangera pas. (Stop being a baby and confess already. You are too dramatic. He won't eat you.)” Letting out a loud “Guh” as you finally escaped the human trap, you threw the evil jacket away from you and pouted. 

        “Je ne suis pas trop dramatique. (I am not too dramatic.)” You slumped back onto the rough bark of the tree and exhaled heavily. 

        “Alors arrêtez d'être un tel wuss et dites-lui! (Then stop being such a wuss and tell him!)” your friend demanded, and your phone shook at her volume. You understood her impatience; after all, you had harbored a crush on Akaashi for the past year now, and the only person who stood to take earfuls of your gushing was her. Overall, you were thankful, but that didn’t mean you weren’t shy. 

        “Mais que dois-je faire si Akaashi me rejette? (But what should I do if Akaashi rejects me?)” you mumbled softly, fiddling with the edges of your skirt. Your friend sighed heavily, but you were surprised at the gentle tone in her response. 

        “Tu fais ce que tout le monde dans le monde a fait. Tu t'en remets et trouvés quelqu'un de nouveau. C'est la seule solution. (You do what everyone else in the world has done. You get over it and find someone new. That's the only way.)” Her logic had always pissed you off anyway. Scoffing at the blatant statement, you began to pick at the dirt under your fingernails. Your eyes were saddened, and your shoulders slouched while you bounced your knees up and down in front of you. What ifs, all the what ifs ran through your head, and your heart pained in imaginary sadness at the scenarios. Your friend’s voice dragged you out of your thoughts once more.

        “YN, l'aimes-tu? (YN, do you like him?)”

        “As-tu vraiment besoin de demander? (Do you really need to ask?)” 

        “Alors c'est la seule raison pour laquelle tu devrais lui dire. Ne continuez pas à y penser pour toujours, faites-le. (Then that’s the only reason you should tell him. Don’t keep thinking about it forever, do it.)” Her words carried in the wind like an echo, and a breeze blew past your face, brushing away the stray hairs. Tapping your finger on your chin, you thought it over. It had been months, and you really did like him. He was always nice, and his bare-boned humor made you laugh. And no one could deny that he was truly attractive. 

        Hesitantly, you agreed, “D'accord. Je le ferai. Je vais lui demander de sortir. Souhaite moi bonne chance. (Okay. I will do it. I'm going to ask him to go out. Wish me good luck.)”

        “Bonne chance mon amie. (Good luck my friend.)” She sounded smugly victorious, but ended the call before you could berate her about it. Sighing exasperatingly, you dropped your head back harshly onto the base of the tree. Your hands dropped to your sides and nervously picked at grass while peering up at the pink branches above your form. 

        “Hey YN. You were speaking French just now, right?” Oh crap. Akaashi. A woozy feeling erupted right in the center of your head after you stood up too quickly to face him. Refraining from rubbing the pain away, you settled for a hasty nod at his question, not trusting your voice at the moment. 

        “That’s cool, you sounded pretty fluent too.” His voice was flat, but you had never heard it any other way, and that fact had never stopped the blush that rose on your face in his presence. It certainly didn’t stop the flush now. Suddenly, you remembered your friend’s words. Do it.

        “Well, you know, I-I could teach you some time,” you stuttered out. Hiding your shaking hands behind your back, you apprehensively smiled at him, but faltered when the corner of his mouth quirked up. His eyes glimmered at your suggestion while he suddenly grew smug. Your brows furrowed after he rolled his shoulders and placed his hands in his pants pockets, while his chest seemed to puff out. Was this really Akaashi?

        “That’s okay,” he retorts, “I already know French.” Excuse me, what?

        Your eye began to twitch and the smile on your face dropped. Blanching at his words, you hesitantly asked, “W-well, um, how much did you hear?” 

        “Enough.” He smiled softly at your amazed expression, chuckling behind his hand. Who the f**k is this guy?!

        “Oh. Ohhhh. Look, you might have misunderstood a couple of our words,” you sputtered. Akaashi was different today, it seemed. He was showing emotion, a lot of emotion. You choked on air when his own cheeks pinked as he stepped toward you. Staring at the petals he had crunched under his shoes, you mumbled, “We don’t really know the language that well, so you might have misheard a sentence or two. We definitely weren’t talking about you, that’s for sure-”

        The rest of your anxious rambling died on your tongue when he suddenly grinned at you. Ever so slowly, Akaashi caught a lock of your hair blowing in the wind and curled it around his finger gently. He was nervous too, you realized. But your breath caught in your throat when his gaze suddenly shifted and intercepted your own. Softly, he whispered, “Je t’aime bien aussi. (I like you too.)” 

No One but You (Tendou x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: While managing at your boyfriend’s volleyball game, a nice, blond player from another school approaches and compliments you. He had only been friendly, so why was Tendou acting so weird?

A/N: A jealous Tendou is a hot Tendou, that’s all I gotta say.

Word count: 1260

        Volleyball games were exciting; you had discovered that when you first began dating your whackjob of a boyfriend. Although, to be fair, it’s always fun to see someone you love kick other people’s asses. Either way, watching Shiratorizawa’s volleyball games inspired you to sign up for team manager. Now, as you observed Tendou whining after flubbing a practice spike over the net, you had to remind yourself of why you applied. Before-game practices were a seriously dull affair, so you always had to mind yourself with something. Although today, some random person had decided to turn your frown upside down.

        You moved into the dim hallway outside of the noisy gym, sighing as you began to refill the twenty-something water bottles at a fountain before you heard, “Hey, do you need some help with that?” The male’s voice was juxtaposingly energetic and casual all at the same time, and this piqued your interest. Turning around to view your companion, you were surprised to see a blond with an undercut and pierced ears. He was beaming, and like the sun in the morning, it almost zapped the remainder of your energy right out of you. Nonetheless, you returned his smile and nodded your head.

        “That would be great, thanks.” Your face had softened at his kindness; no one had ever offered to help you carry and fill those assloads of water bottles, and you were the only manager on the team, so his generosity was refreshing. 

        The blond carried a conversation well, and that was all thanks to his seemingly endless amount of energy. You, on the other hand, felt a little guilty every time the chatter fell flat. Not that anyone could really blame you, you don’t ever remember being taught basic conversational skills. You were just born awkward. 

        “My name’s Terushima by the way, what’s yours, gorgeous?” You flush at the compliment and focus on the water flowing in the fountain to avoid your eyes locking onto his tongue piercing. The occasional clink you heard it make against his teeth was already distracting enough. 

        “YLN,” you responded bluntly, screwing on the cap before grabbing for another. Terushima offered you a new empty bottle, and you nodded gratefully while accepting it, ignoring the way your hands brushed. Finally, you finished refills and grabbed two water racks in each hand. Catching on quickly, your volleyball player “assistant” took hold of the remaining carriers and followed your lead back into the gym.

        “So, what team did you come to support today, YLN?” he asked. “Hopefully Johzenji, if you don’t mind staying after these first games.” At his suggestion, you giggled lightheartedly and directed him to the bench on Shiratorizawa’s side. 

        Setting down the racks, you replied, “Sorry, I don’t plan on staying here any longer than I have to. I love watching volleyball, don’t get me wrong, but I like celebrating with my boyfriend after a game even more.” You didn’t notice the grimace that grew on Terushima’s face as he visibly deflated beside you. 

        “O-oh, so then, who’s your boyfriend?” he asked disappointedly. Ignorant to the sudden shift in his mood, you smiled at his question, thinking of your Guess Monster.

        “He should be right over there-”

        “Hey sweet cheeks,” a teasing voice sounded as an arm fell around your shoulders, “who’re you talking to?” Grinning at the sight of your nutso redhead, you gestured to your new volleyball friend.

        “Tendou, this is Terushima. He plays for… Johzenji, right?” You looked up to your boyfriend, only to see a familiar mischievous twinkle in his maroon eyes while his mouth curled up into a sly grin. 

        “Nice to meet you, Terushima,” Tendou spit his name as though it was poisonous, but kept a light tone, “can’t wait to play your team. If you make it far enough, that is.” Scoffing exasperatingly, you jabbed him in the side at his antagonizing slight. The blond player chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck, beginning to feel suffocated by the air in the gym. 

        “Haha, yeah… so umm, look, I have to go practice, but I’ll see you around?” Terushima meant the question for you, but Tendou took over.

        “We’ll see,” the Guess Monster answered, aiming a glare at the other player. Dark, criticizing eyes tracked the blond while he walked away with tight, tense shoulders.  

        “Good luck!” you sweetly called after him before lightly smacking your boyfriend on the arm. “Quit watching him, he’s not doing anything,” you chide, rolling your eyes before returning to arranging the water bottles on the bench.

        Smirking, Tendou grabs your hips and gently spins you around, but when you make eye contact, his red orbs darken to black. Ever so slowly, he scrutinizes your face as he leans in closely and whispers, “You really need to stop letting guys flirt with you, it makes me sad.” His voice is low and playful, but the jealousy in his eyes wanders into his tone. Wanting to feel more of you, his hand moves up to your face and he brushes a lock of hair away, letting his taped fingers linger on your cheek. While you revel in the feeling of him and his warm breaths on your forehead, you can’t ignore his obviously mistaken words.

        Grabbing his hands in your own, you serenely smile up at him before shaking your head and rolling your eyes. “Satori,” you trail your fingers up and behind his neck, moving into his hair, “no one but you flirts with me.” Lightly tugging on the strands, you draw him down and brush your nose against his softly, teasing him while he groaned silently. Suddenly, Tendou remembers your statement and scoffs at your obliviousness, pulling you closer with his hands back on your hips. 

        “Oh, sweet cheeks, you have no idea, do you?” he teases, but his eyes looked lovingly back into yours. Before you knew what was happening, he pressed his lips onto yours. They tasted like cherry chapstick and you thought it was befitting. Just as he began to nibble on your bottom lip, he pulled away, bringing your mouth with before releasing. With your eyes still closed, you chased after him, only to stop when he chuckled and tapped your nose with a finger. Moaning at the loss, you opened your eyes and sulkily glared at him, a look which he returned mockingly. 

        “Don’t look at me like that, baby, I have a game to play. You’ll get me too excited,” he whined. His pupils were dilated, easily overtaking the garnet that was originally there. 

        “And that’s my problem how?” you taunted, a corner of your mouth quirking up arrogantly along with an eyebrow. 

      “Because,” he purred smoothly, “if I have to deal with it during the game, you have to deal with it the rest of the night.” Before you could react, he pressed a kiss to your cheek and walked away with a chuckle. Tendou’s words hit you like a freight train, and pink that had grown onto your cheeks from the kiss transitioned into a deep rose. You sputtered and choked on air, looking around the gym to see if anybody had seen that. Ashamed at the display the two of you had just given the entire crowd attending the volleyball games, you slumped down into your seat on the coaches’ bench, hiding your burning face in your cold hands.

Just a Little Confession (Kuroo x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: A confession to Kenma doesn’t end as well as you thought it would, but luckily a tall, kind third-year is there to save the day. Still, confessions suck, and relationships are hard to read sometimes.

Author’s Note: I kinda love this one, so have fun and enjoy! (Edit: hehehe SO... this fanfic was... a little more personal than most, so if that’s why it seems a little... different, that’s why. I’m glad you guys have liked it tho!)

Word count: 4635

        Glancing around, you instantly noticed that none of your friends were in this class. It was your first year in high school, but you didn’t know a single soul around you. Hesitantly, you sat at the assigned desk the teacher had given you, and flushed in discomfort while you observed the groups of companions around you. You had never really been an extrovert, more often choosing to stay in your own personal bubble, so this was just a bad situation from the start. 

       Soon, your painful solitude was quickly demolished when the bell rang and a boy with chin-length black hair sat in front of you. You hadn't seen him before, but judging by the way his shoulders hunched over and his head tipped down, you assumed he didn’t have any friends in the class either. This was your chance to finally make a friend, you thought, reaching out your hand to tap his shoulder and introduce yourself, but the teacher swiftly interrupted your idea. 

       “Good morning and welcome to Nekoma, class. Today, we will start off slowly with an icebreaker.” The room broke out into a collective groan, hushed instantly with a small glare from the teacher. “It’s not that bad, I promise.” Now, she spoke with a forced smile, and you hid your small grin behind a hand. “All you need is a piece of paper and a partner.” Uh oh, that did it. After those words, everyone in the room performed the cliche “look to your bestie for project-partner safety” move, and now you were stuck in your lonesome, huffing and holding your chin in your hand as you waited for the teacher to notice your seclusion. Making eye contact, the teacher at once suggested, “Kozume, YLN, why don’t you two work together?” Raising your eyebrow, you watched as your original plan reformed itself, as the black-haired boy in front of you twisted in his chair to look back at you. Giving him a soft smile and introducing yourself, you observed as he quietly did the same while retrieving a piece of paper from his bag and setting it down on your desk. While making small talk, you could tell that you had finally found a friend, or at least someone to converse with, in the class, all thanks to the both of you being loners. Oh yeah, it’s all coming together, you thought to yourself victoriously.

                               ~~~

       To your own satisfaction, you and Kenma had become great friends, sharing an interest in video games and in dodging responsibilities. Most days, you needed a friend exactly like him. If you were panicking for a test, his lax attitude would calm you down. If you were happy for no reason, he would faintly return your wide grin, only for it to drop a second later as he would glance away and ask why you looked so weird. If you were miserable without a say, he would speak carefully and calmly with you, not truly showing an interest, but attempting to, and that was all that mattered to you. 

       One time, you vividly remember him indirectly complimenting you after you had spoken badly of yourself. Pouting like a child, you had crossed your arms to cover your body as you stated, “God, I look terrible today. I’m too fat.” 

       Kenma had rolled his eyes and replied, “Don’t say that about yourself, it’s not true. You shouldn’t be so mean to yourself, I think you’re cool.” He stated it without remorse, as though you could not prove him wrong, as if he believed it to be fact and nothing less. That’s when it began; that was when your crush on Kenma sprouted. No guy had ever complimented you before, so his words struck you like an arrow to the chest. 

       That night, after rambling about the day’s events in your diary, you slammed the book closed and stared up at the ceiling, replaying the scene in your head like a movie. Growing red at the memory, you hugged your journal to your chest as you thought to yourself, this is so not okay.

                               ~~~

       A year had passed, and Kenma was now in a different class as you, not that it truly got him off your mind. Sure, you didn’t think of him as often, but he still lingered there. You harbored feelings for him that could never be taken away, only because he was the first guy who had shown interest in you, and it felt good to be wanted. At this point, you still acknowledged the fact that last year, your relationship had been purely platonic and nothing more. But that never stopped you from believing it could evolve into something more romantic, and you held onto that slim chance like a lifeline. Until today. 

       The day had begun particularly terrible. First, you were on your period. Hormones were crazy and you felt like exploding on someone at any second. Second, you had just taken a test that you were not very confident in the result of, and just wanted to go to lunch and eat your sorrows away. Then one of the few acquaintances that you did have in your class this year, who had also been in the same class as you last year, decided that she could cheer you up with some delightful information about your old friend (and secret crush). 

       “Hey YN, did you hear that Kenma got a girlfriend.” Your heart stopped for a split second, and suddenly your throat decided to close up for no reason whatsoever. 

       Intaking a small breath, you replied, “Wow, that’s great for him.” But it hurt you, and you cursed yourself for being so affected by this little tidbit of information. You hadn’t talked to him in over a year, so you had no right to be… jealous? Or disappointed? One of the two. 

       “Yeah, she’s the daughter of the substitute in…” Her voice faded away as she rambled on about things you just didn’t need to hear right now. You gazed off into the distance, suddenly finding the chalkboard behind her very interesting. Looks like it could use a good cleaning, you thought to yourself, tilting your head slightly to view it from a different angle. What a magnificent piece of- you were cut off from your “lights on, but nobody’s home” moment when the lunch bell finally rang. Flinching at the clangor that suddenly occurred, you sped off to sweet, glorious foodland, i.e. the cafeteria, leaving your friend in the dust while simultaneously cutting her off mid sentence. Now that’s multitasking. 

                              ~~~

       At last, you arrived home for the day, and quickly made your way to your room. An urge to cry arose the instant you saw your diary. It was tempting you to write down what had happened today, but you really didn’t want evidence of this day forever. He has a girlfriend, he has a girlfriend, he has a girlfriend. Like a song with the worst chorus ever, that thought played on repeat in your head. Luckily, you decided to change the station, grabbing your earbuds from your nightstand and plugging in both ends of the cord accordingly, thankfully on the first try. As every normal teenager does, you instinctively choose a song that both forces you in your feels even worse and also makes you feel better, like you weren’t alone in this unjustified pain. We haven’t talked in months, so it’s understandable that he’s moved on. Especially since we weren’t in a relationship in the first place, you thought to yourself, feeling like a mature adult handling the situation rationally. But no matter how many times you whispered that in your head louder than the music in your ears, it never stopped you from hugging your childish, but necessary, stuffed animal tighter and allowing a few tears to slip. 

                              ~~~

       Thank goodness, your sport was finally in season, and you were ready to play. After working your butt off and inspiring yourself with more than a few videos on YouTube, you were totally ready to kick names and take ass, and no one would stop you. You had after-school practice today, and both you and your teammate chatted happily as you walked into the cafeteria to refill your water bottles. As soon as you reached your destination, however, you heard a familiar, monotonous voice greet you. 

       “Hey YN,” Kenma spoke, and you just about gave yourself whiplash while swinging around to see him give you a small smile and wave before continuing past with his tall, third year companion. You hadn’t uttered a word, but instead opted to give a meek wave as your voice caught in your throat. After watching him disappear into a crowd on his way to the gym for volleyball practice, your teammate cheekily elbowed you in the side and waggled her eyebrows at you suggestively with a sly smile. 

       “He totally likes you,” she teased while resealing her water bottle. You synthetically guffawed at the thought, frantically shaking your head at the thought, but your eyes, still wide from watching Kenma walk away, begged to differ. 

       “He doesn’t like me,” you refuted, but the butterflies in your stomach began swarming with hope at the thought.

       “He totally does!” She supported her opinion with an encouraging smile.

       “No he doesn’t, because he has a girlfriend, and I like him,” you confessed, and your mood took a swan dive at the memory. Oh right, he has a girlfriend. 

       “Oh,” was your teammate’s only response, and the subject was quickly dropped from conversation. And even though she seemed to give in to that fact quite instantly, you weren’t so sure anymore. Her words enlivened something inside you, gave you a bubble of hope that panged at your heart. Uh oh, I have an idea, you thought, and it was bad. Really bad. But you liked it. 

                               ~~~

       For the first time in your life, you decided to confess to a guy you liked. You had never done it before, but all your friends always talk about their less-than-ideal confessions, and now it was your turn. It’s a part of life everyone must experience: an action born of pure humility with just a sprinkle of hope that led to either a relationship or self-loathing. Either way, you believed you were ready for it. Sadly, no one’s ever really prepared, and you just kind of have to go for it. So that’s what you were doing. Maybe it was a bad idea, but it also felt like a rite of passage into becoming a true high schooler. The shame or pride coming from the other end, whichever you received, would contain a life-lesson for relationships. Plus, you had weighed the odds of whether he had broken up with his girlfriend, and felt pretty confident in your results. And so, there you were, restlessly shifting from foot-to-foot in the middle of the school cafeteria, waiting to intercept Kenma on his path to practice. Slightly lightheaded, you took a few deep breaths as you allowed your eyes to survey the bunch of students around you for the blond-and-black haired volleyball player. Finally, you spotted him, even though his shorter stature had made it difficult.

       “Kenma!” you called out victoriously, grabbing his attention in a flash. His gold eyes seeked out the voice, and a small smile grew on his face when he saw you approaching. Stopping in front of him, you felt the telltale signs of nervousness beginning to grow throughout your body, and you hurriedly hid your clammy hands behind your back. “H-hey umm,” you stopped yourself, gulping anxiously and thus swallowing the stutters escaping your lips. Your body, in exchange, gave you a propelling wave of confidence, which you allowed out of your mouth in the form of, “I just wanted to tell you that umm…” you trailed off, your mind going blank and your jaw slacking as you stared at him. Confused, Kenma’s brows furrowed while he watched you zone out in a matter of seconds. Oh f**k me this is embarrassing, you thought to yourself, quickly swallowing the fly you had caught before shaking your head. Thanking any deity that roamed in the sky for granting you a single moment of clarity, you took the chance and quickly blurted out, “I have a crush on you, and I’ve had it since last year, and… yeah.” While that didn’t last long, but at least you got the job done, right? Bouncing on your toes, you braced for impact while fighting the urge to run away and/or throw up from nervousness.

       “Oh, umm, wow YN, that’s really nice of you to say, I guess,” he mumbled, and your brow raised in confusion at his words. “But I have a girlfriend.” Oh, there it is. Slowly, your breath hitched, and your nerves began to calm from the blanket of disappointment that had been dropped onto your body like ice cold water from a bucket. Why do people do this again? Does it ever end well? ‘Cause right now, it’s kinda sucking major butthole. 

       “Oh, ok, so I’m gonna go now I’ll see you around,” you babbled, turning around without another word and making a beeline for the exit of the school. Not a soul had been around to witness the downfall of YN, not that it would have been any more mortifying than it already was. 

       You wanted to laugh. You wanted to make jokes until the pain faded away, and the tears evaporated. But your body denied the request, and instead you got a sniffle. Then another. Then another, until your whole face looked like a new, mucusy waterfall discovered right here in Tokyo. Disgusting, and it felt disgusting too. What a horrible feeling, plan, and experience, all wrapped into the world’s shittiest present. Nobody wants to cry in school, though, so you pushed open the exit doors and let them slam behind you without a care for the loud sound it made. You promptly slumped down the wall beside the doors and let loose. Surprisingly, you weren’t one to cry often, and when you did, it was normally an especially wretched occasion. Does this one count, because it sure as hell feels like it counts. Hugging your knees to your chest, you gladly welcomed the stars that floated behind your eyelids from clenching them shut so hard, and greeted the tingly sensation growing in your arms from clutching your legs tightly happily as well. The pain was a distraction, until it wasn’t the only distraction. 

       A presence crouched down in front of you, but you refused to look up. In this school, you had no image to maintain, but you sure as hell still didn’t want to flash your sniffling mug to whoever sat in front of you. So he took the first step. 

       “Hey, are you okay, YN?” The male voice was gruff and hesitant, but still compassionate enough to make you want to give in and take comfort in his arms. Right now, you didn’t want to ask how he knew your name. All you knew was you needed support. Hell, any source of sympathy you could be given right now you would accept gladly. Gradually, you raised your head and looked at the boy in front of you, almost bursting into tears for a second time at the sight. Although your eyes burned from the light around you, along with the sudden release of pressure thanks to opening your eyelids, you instantly recognized Kenma’s tall third year friend. Suddenly, you felt like you would be better off alone again, and lord how you wished that were true. But you weren’t superhuman, and you had emotions, and needed comfort. So when the guy noticed your original plan of burrowing back into yourself once more, he gave you an undeniable proposal, swiftly opening up his arms in offering of a hug. 

       To be clear, you weren’t the type of girl to enjoy being a damsel in distress. Generally, you would deny hugs from strangers, and you rarely felt comfortable even hugging your friends, but right now you needed someone, anyone who would listen, or even just hold you and let you cry on their shoulder. So you softened yourself up and acknowledged this fact, accepting the hug while slowly falling forward into his warm arms and weeping quietly. While trying to stop the fresh wave of tears loading up in your ducts, you attempted to distract yourself by thinking about your… shoulder-to-cry-on’s name. It started with a K, that much you knew. However, when he began to softly caress the back of your head, the new wave of tears unleashed without warning at his tender actions. Yes, it hurt to be rejected by Kenma, but this overwhelming need to cry in someone’s hold travelled deeper than that. Your diary no longer could contain all the emotions you felt trapped in your mind for the past few years now. Finally, you realize that pen and paper just won’t do it: you need someone else by your side to prevent you from truly exploding. In the third year’s arms, you felt cared for, for the first time in a long while, and it felt good. On the surface, you felt greedy and selfish. Who were you to take up this guy’s time with your tears? But then you remembered that he offered first, and yeah, maybe he wasn’t enjoying it so much right now, as surely you weren’t a great sight to see, but surely he could tell how much you needed it. And no one should deprive another from letting their guard down and just plain old crying. So for a few more minutes, you relished in his grasp, wondering how much time had truly passed while waiting for your tears to slow. What a stand-up guy this dude is, you thought, I hope he’s really happy in his life so he doesn’t have to feel an ache like this. Yes, you barely spent enough time with Kenma to truly blame all of the tears you had shed on him, but he had still been your first real crush, and your first confession and rejection, so it still tore a wound in your heart. Besides, it feels good to cry. 

       When your eyes and nose began to dry and all that was left of your blubbering was puffy, red cheeks, you pulled back away from the guy, laughing awkwardly and wiping at your face with the sleeve of your school uniform. “Thank you,” you mumbled gratefully, giving him a soft smile, “I really needed that.”

       “Of course,” he replied, smiling and nodding understandingly. 

       “So umm, what’s your name?”

       He cracked up at your question, and you giggled softly with him, cheeks burning at your own obliviousness. “Kuroo, my name’s Kuroo.”

       I knew it started with a K.

       “Well, thanks Kuroo, I’m sorry if I ruined your- Oh crap I ruined your shirt!” You gasped in surprise at the large splotch you had left behind, a damp mark circling the collarbone and shoulder of his blue blazer. Once more, he chuckled at your reaction and shrugged off the jacket, revealing the typical white and black shirts underneath. Folding it on his lap, he patted it down before leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

       “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” You purse your lips and huff slightly at his dismissive attitude. You wanted to repay him, and covering his blazer with your own snot and tears was not sufficient enough payment, no matter how much you wanted it to be. “It’s fine, I swear,” he insisted with a smirk, snickering at your panic. “Now tell me. What happened?”

                               ~~~

       Walking through the halls, you couldn’t seem to help the smile stuck on your face. Kuroo looked down at you and grinned back, tightening his arm around your shoulders and squeezing lightly. “Why are you so smiley today? Not that I’m complaining, but it’s kinda freaking me out, so feel free to explain,” he teased, poking the side of your cheek after you had stuck your tongue out at his comment. After that fateful day when your confession to Kenma had flopped, Kuroo had stuck by your side like a fly on a piece of crap. On the first day, when he spotted you in the halls, he came over and gave you a small side hug, wrapping his lanky arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. At first, you blushed and shyly pushed at his chest to move away, embarrassed like a daughter would be of her father. But now you began to cherish his hugs and clingy actions, almost missing them whenever you were in class or at home. The pair of you currently had a routine going: Kuroo would spot you in the halls and call out your name, and you would look up, approach him and wrap your arm around his waist as he pulled you into his side, his thumb caressing your collarbone. Slowly, Kuroo began to worm his way into your daily life, and you allowed it. On days where you were unhappy, he would walk you to class and even bring you a treat from a vending machine if he had the chance. On days where you seemed particularly upbeat, he would give you a grin back and poke your cheeks, commenting on how beautiful you looked when you wore a smile. Things were great, so much better than before that you easily forgot how spontaneous this change in your daily life had been. All because you were simply… happier.

       “I’m just thinking about how your hair looks like a chicken,” you laughed, squealing after he pokes you in the side as revenge.

       “Excuse me, it’s called a ‘Rooster head,’ look it up. Plus, you said you liked it,” he exclaimed, making a disappointed noise at your betrayal. 

       “Eh.” You shrugged.

       “Eh, EH! What does ‘eh’ mean?! Part of the reason I like you is because you don’t make fun of my hair, too, so don’t test me,” Kuroo shamelessly admitted, messing around with your own locks in revenge as you tried to wrestle away from his destructive hands. After finally escaping his grip, you both said your farewells as you stepped into your classroom, a pleasant, irresistible smile on your face. 

                               ~~~

       The day had turned gloomier for the rest of the school when it began to rain outside, but it just so happened to be your favorite weather, so you didn’t complain one bit. While sitting at a table in the cafeteria, you closely inspected your umbrella, hoping to see what had made it utterly useless. Losing yourself in the moment of trying to think of how an umbrella is constructed, you don’t realize a figure is approaching until it’s too late. Then you hear it: the squeaky steps of tennis shoes. Looking up to identify the student, you instantly tense up at the sight and forget your emergency exits. Good thing you’re not on a plane, ‘cause you would be fu-.

       “Hey YN,” Kenma speaks, interrupting your train of thought. His golden eyes are piercing straight through you, making you feel paralyzed and helpless. 

       “H-hey Kenma, long time no see huh,” you laugh nervously. “So how’s your girlf-” 

       “So you and Kuroo, now, huh?” How many times is this motherf****r gonna cut me off- wait what? His tone was sharp as a knife, and even though he had only uttered those words, you already wondered what you had done wrong. You felt like you were trapped in a boiling pot of water, the temperature slowly rising as you sat there, stuck. 

       “Huh?” was the only response that escaped your lips questioningly. 

       “YN, I really do care for you, so let me just warn you now. Kuroo has had a lot of girlfriends, and they come and go real quick, so be careful. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

       Kenma’s voice had turned soft along with his eyes, but all you could reply was “Huh?” Neglecting your confused look, the volleyball player walked away without another word, leaving you alone with your umbrella. “What the hell was that?” you looked down and asked the object. Sadly, it didn’t respond, nor did it work, so you stood up and accepted your fate, leaving Nekoma and trekking through the rain to your house. As the droplets soaked through your school-issued blazer while you sauntered, your mind never strayed from wondering what the hell Kenma had been talking about. 

                               ~~~

       Laying down on your bed and contemplating your encounter with Kenma did wonders on your habit of overthinking things, but at least you finally think you’ve figured it out. Did Kenma think you and Kuroo were dating? Well duh, obviously. But was he jealous of Kuroo, or was he just looking out for his old friend? The part of you that still harbored feelings for him, because if you didn’t know, that shit doesn’t fade away even after a few weeks, desperately wanted to believe that he was jealous. Plus, every girl loves to hear how a guy is jealous over her. However, you knew Kenma, and you knew his only two emotions were slight excitement and boredom. So you had to throw that idea out the window, which left you with the other half of contemplations about whether Kuroo and you appeared to be a couple. You supposed the hugging made it seem that way. That, and the fact that the day you had confessed to Kenma, you had told all your friends before that you were going to confess to “someone.” Also, all those times your friends had said you and Kuroo were a cute pair. And that one time you kissed him on his cheek because he had given you chocolate on a bad day. And whenever he kisses you on the side of the head before dropping you off at class. And that one time when- Holy crap! Do you like Kuroo? Are you two dating and you didn’t even notice? Moving on to the most important questions: did you like Kuroo, and did he return those feelings? Your hand twitched towards your phone, and you blinked down in surprise. At this point, your heart was beating rapidly as you stared into the black screen at your own reflection. Should you call him? Are you tired of asking questions and ready to get some fucking answers? Dear God yes. Swiftly, you snatched up your phone and looked at Kuroo’s contact. When he had placed his number in your phone, he had also added multiple heart emojis around his name as well. Huh, never realized those were there. When contemplating between the call and text button, your finger had accidentally skimmed so close that you hit ‘call.’ 

       “Shit, shit, shit, shii...take mushrooms, hey Kuroo.” You were interrupted in the midst of your nervous cussing when a voicemail started recording after your cheek had accidentally pressed the one button. “Um, so I just wanted to know if you like me and if we’re dating. Talk to you later, okay byeeeee.” You hit end call and groaned while running your hands down your face, shoving your phone as far away from your lap as possible. The stress from… whatever the hell you wanna call what you just did, was starting to get to your head, so much so that you decided to take a nap to sleep off the embarrassment. 

                               ~~~

*Two missed calls from 😻TETSUROU😻*

*Three notifications from 😻TETSUROU😻*

😻TETSUROU😻: Hey, are you serious?

😻TETSUROU😻: Did you really just call and ask that?! Seriously???

😻TETSUROU😻: Ofc I like you, we’re dating, dumbass, so I kinda have to 🙄 <3

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.

𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟑, 𝐌𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐀𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮

KITA VERSION HERE

pairing: miya atsumu x reader (strangers to lovers—fake dating)

genre: fluff

word count: 1.4k

summary: number 13, miya atsumu seems like a nice man, but his little dilemma he ropes you into seems to show you he’s much more than that

“Hey, you’re Miya’s date, right?” Turning, you frown, staring at the MSBY player before you with furrowed eyebrows. Atsumu had mentioned his name to you before, but you can’t seem to recall it, having been a part of a list of far too many names to remember only fifteen minutes before reaching the gym.

“Um, n—yes! Yes, absolutely. I am,” you catch yourself at the last second, nodding furiously with a large (probably more than necessary) smile. He stares at you for a moment before nodding slowly, awkwardly smiling back.

You’re not sure if he’s completely convinced.

“Oh, okay. Well, uh…see you after the game, then,” he offers before quickly walking away.

Number 13, Miya Atsumu. He’s a nice man—from what you can tell at least. He’s helped you carry groceries to your car before—somehow always managing to be at the store at the same time as you. He’s paid for your drink at the local coffee shop that one morning—you’d forgotten your wallet in the car—and his smile seemed genuine enough. It was a little cocky for your taste, but his eyes were sincere, the saccharine honey of his orbs seeping with warmth when you looked into them.

And when he approached you, hands stuffed in his pockets and eyes downcast as he kicked a few pebbles around, claiming he’d needed a favor, you couldn’t find it in you to say no.

“I had a one night stand and a few photos got out to the press o’ me walkin’ out. Told ma manager I was datin’ someone so she wouldn’t get onta me,” he’d mumbled sheepishly, and though it seemed like a lot of trouble, you’d still agreed to be his date.

And here you were. His date, with him nowhere to be found.

The sudden poke to your hip makes you jolt, turning to face the source of your scare, hand unconsciously ready to shove it away when a smooth chuckle and a warm, callused hand on your wrist makes you pause.

“Woah, there,” Atsumu flashes you a grin, tugging you flush against his chest. The proximity makes you swallow, looking up at his face with wide eyes. He smirks slightly. “Yer here as ma date, wouldn’t look too believable if ya shoved me two seconds in, would it?”

Your voice seems to find itself as you frown, huffing before you look him in the eye more determined this time. His smirk only widens.

“You shouldn’t scare your date on the first one, it’s not very gentlemanly of you.” He offers you a sly grin, hand wandering down lower till it reaches the small of your back. Your breath hitches at the way he starts rubbing small circles into it.

“Well, I s’pose ya gotta point,” he mumbles, head dipping down lower till his breath is fanning lightly against your face. He smells faintly of cologne, cool yet spicy, but definitely expensive. “Can’t let people get the wrong idea, can we? Come on, angel, we gotta convince em.”

Eyes widening as you realize what he means, you press your palm against his chest, a futile attempt to push him away, really—the sturdiness of his muscled chest was enough to distract you instantly.

“I…y-you…here? You want to—here? In front of all these people?”

And he chuckles once more, making you start to wonder how the smooth and adorably sweet guy from the grocery store and coffee shop had become so smug.

“‘S just a kiss. Never had a kiss before?” You scowl, finally shoving at his chest this time, but his grip only tightens.

“Of course I have, you moron. Just not with a star athlete in front of all his fans,” you mutter.

“Ya keep up with me on the media?” Scoffing, you turn your head away to the side, not willing to admit that perhaps you’d searched his name in google once or twice. It was strictly informational.

“As if,” you huff. “This is not a very great first date, you know.”

“‘S not real, thought we went over that. Don’t tell me yer attached already?”

Number 13, Miya Atsumu seemed more a handful than you’d initially anticipated. With pursed lips and narrowed eyes, you glare daggers at him, making his eyes sparkle with amusement.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m the one doing you the favor here. Be a little grateful.”

“Well ya gotta play yer part for me ta be grateful, angel. Gotta give em a show. Kiss me,” he puckers his lips slightly. “I’ll be grateful.”

You shove his face away when he leans down, making his lips curl into a pout. Staring at him in disbelief, you look around to see if anyone is staring at the show Atsumu is so hellbent on giving. To your dismay, it seems the entirety of the stands has their eyes cast specifically on you, making you sag into his hold.

For the millionth time, Atsumu’s snicker rings in your ears.

“Atsu—Miya, I’m not kissing you here in front of—”

“Ya can’t call yer boyfriend by his last name!”

“Fake boyfriend. Fake.”

“But they don’t know that,” he grins. Groaning, you sigh in defeat, glancing around the gym a few more times before ultimately caving. Atsumu’s grin couldn’t be any wider, and if it was, you’d have half a mind to smack it gone.

Perhaps your good deed was a bite that was much more than you could chew at the moment.

“Fine, if I give you a quick peck on the lips, will you be satisfied?”

“Oh, I’d be ecstatic,” he smirks. So, with an exasperated sigh, you usher him closer—to which he obliges much to quickly, and much too happily.

“Okay, but remember, it’s just a quick peck, okay? Don’t—” he cuts you off before you can finish your sentence.

And it most certainly isn’t a quick peck.

Atsumu presses his lips firmly against yours, molding against you so perfectly, you can’t help but close your eyes shut. His arms tighten their grip around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, and the scent of his cologne wafts through your nose once again, much stronger this time. And he swallows the strangled noise you let out, only kissing you deeper. The hand that lay flat on his chest a moment ago grips his shirt tightly, and your other hand subconsciously wanders past his shoulders to play with the hair at the base of his neck. He smirks against your lips.

Pulling away, he places one delicate, tiny, quick peck to your slightly swollen lips, huffing out yet another chuckle at the dazed expression on your face.

Except this time, it’s not cocky or smug. It’s purely one of glee, and it matches his expression. He looks almost as giddy as a child at an ice cream shop.

“A quick peck, as promised,” he winks.

“Atsumu! Everyone’s watched that! What’re they gonna say? It’ll be all over the media if we’re never seen together after a kiss like that! And—”

“Then I guess we’ll just have to be seen together after that, angel,” he cuts you off. Sputtering, you do a double take at his words, watching as he all but rolls on the balls of his feet in excitement.

And it clicks in your head, finally, that this was just number 13, Miya Atsumu, MSBY’s star setter and your resident smooth talker’s elaborate plan to set you both up to see each other over and over again.

You roll your eyes as you mumble “you could’ve just asked me on a real date like a normal person.”

“Well, I did actually tell ma manager I was datin’ someone,” he mumbles sheepishly, and you catch a small glimpse of the same shyness you’d seen when he first approached you with his dilemma. “But I thought it was a good opportunity ta dazzle ya,” he offers a toothy grin. Your heart does a 360 in your chest at the sight.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“And yer unbelievably cute when yer flustered.” The whistle blows, and his attention turns to his coach who’s ushering him over sternly, making him turn to you with a smile. “I’ll see ya after the game, kay, babe? Cheer for me real loud.”

And with another stolen peck on the lips, Atsumu jogs to where his team is waiting, glancing over his shoulder and winking over at you. You cover your mouth with your hand and stifle a chuckle when he stumbles slightly, ramming into a raven and curly haired man who scowls and shrugs him off.

Number 13, Miya Atsumu seemed quite the handful, but you think you can manage to deal with him somehow.

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