Haikyuu X Reader - Blog Posts

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!”

The Bigger the Hoop (Terushima x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Terushima’s got your heart held in his hands. And your earrings stuck in his ears.

A/N: It was soft and cracky at first, but then it grew serious, so idk. I kinda like it, and I hope y’all do too! Btw, thank you so much for the support recently, it makes me happier every single day!

Word count: 1812

        “Yuuji, I’m back!” You shut the door to your house and kick off your shoes, ready to relax the night away with a fun movie and a hot boyfriend by your side. His response to you is unsettling, however. 

       “You’re not supposed to be home yet!” What? Your brows furrow at the words and you set down the DVD you had bought for the night. 

       “What’s that supposed to mean?” He doesn’t answer. The rest of the house is dim and the only visible light is coming from under your door, so you follow it. Ever so curious, you sneak your way up the stairs, cringing at every creak that occurs. 

       “Get out of me!” You can hear Terushima’s panicked whispers from inside your room. “Get out, get out, get out!” Oh god, was he cheating on you or something? In your own house? What a jerk! 

       “Terushima?! What are you doing?” You feel betrayed, but you needed proof before you could smack the shit out of him. He used to always flirt with other girls before he chose you. I should have known.

       “I’m busy! Don’t come in!” Anger flooded through you. Now he didn’t even want you in your own room. You’re crossing the line, mister. 

       “What are you doing, Terushima?” Your shout echoes throughout the house and you slam open your bedroom door. And there, not here, there, he sits. Your blond, erratic boyfriend is slumped in the center of your bed, looking winded and terrified all at the same time. That wasn’t what caught your attention. It was his ears.

       “Umm… nothing?” He nervously smiles at you before looking away, lowering his hands from the hoop earrings currently stuck in his pierced lobes. 

       “Pshh, damn baby you look good!” You burst out in laughter, watching the blush on your boyfriend’s face grow.

       “Shut up!” He’s embarrassed, and that’s a new look for the playboy. Instinctively his hands slink back up to the hoops caught in his ears, hiding them from sight. Your giggles grow into breathless squeaks at this point, no different from the mating call of a desperate hyena. 

       “Ohhh my God, you are the cutest hoe on this side of the block! How much?” You collapse onto the bed next to him and he doesn’t hesitate to vengefully poke you in the side. You yelp at the tickle it causes.

       “Sixty-nine bucks. Plus tips,” he miserably quips, standing up to look in the mirror on your wall. “Now help me get these stupid things out of me.” 

       “Hey wait a minute, hold on now. If it’s Barbie dress-up time, we gotta get the whole garb together-” 

       “Hush it.” He glares at you playfully before pulling at the silver circles with twitching fingers. You chuckle and hop off your mattress, coming to his rescue. 

       “I’m just saying I have some heels in my closet too if you wanna-”

       “Shut up!” You snicker before swatting his hands away, inspecting the issue. 

       “Please tell me you at least cleaned them before you put them on.” Your squint at the swollen piercing before giving a swift tug.

       “Of cou- OW SON OF A BITCH-rse I did, I’m not an idiot.” While stepping closer and redirecting his head closer to the light on your ceiling, you give him a doubting look. “I’m not always an idiot.” He corrects himself while rolling his eyes. Your triumphant chuckles are swapped out for a silent gasp when his hands land on your hips. Terushima raises his brows while his signature smirk grows. His thumbs lift your shirt little by little and caress the soft skin of your waist.

       “You like that?” he whispers, leaning closer to your burning form. You nervously clear your throat and return to the task at hand. 

       “Of course I do. What I don’t like is the inevitable sacrifice my butter will have to make to unwedge my hoops from your ears.” His confidence never dies that easily, but his smug look drops and he pulls back slightly. It’s a small win for now. “What were you even doing anyway?”

       “I was trying to….” His voice trails off into mumbles while he finds interest in your dirty carpet. 

       “What was that?”

       “I wanted to…” he murmurs too quietly to hear once again. 

       “Excuse me?” You tug on the earring to grab his attention and he hisses at the sensation. His hands grip harder at your sides. 

       “I wanted to see what I would look like! You know… with them in.” His brown eyes strike through your own as he shyly awaits your response. 

       “And the verdict is…?”

       His eyes glow proudly. “You have the sexiest boyfriend on the street.” The hotshot arrogantly simpers at you and you smile back before rubbing your nose against his. 

       “Yeah, I noticed.” You stick out your tongue at him before worming out of his grip and leaving your room. His heavy steps trail after you.

       “Aww, no need to be jealous, baby.” Terushima’s reassurances are less than helpful, “I only got my eyes on you.” 

       “Good.” The sincerity in your usually-playful tone halts him in his steps.

       “YN, I’m serious. You know that, right?” He grabs your hand and draws your attention to him just as you open the fridge door. A blast of chilled air ruffles the single blond tuft hanging down on his forehead and it almost makes you forget what you were doing. 

       “You want Tillamook or Country Crock?” You turn back to the refrigerator dismissively. 

       “YN-”

       “This one’s fat free-”

       “YN!” Two hands urge you to face him, both rough but tender against your cheeks. His eyes capture yours and he bites his lip apprehensively. 

       “Do you think we should melt them-” He pulls you into a bear hug and squeezes the sarcasm right out of you. Man, I was saving that up, too. 

       “Hug me back, coward.” There’s no room for argument, not that you wanted to resist anyway. You squeeze him back even tighter and fend off the burn in your eyes by pressing your face into his neck. Who knew you needed a hug so bad?

       “YN, what’s wrong?” His arms slither around your back and his fingers crawl up into your scalp, scratching back and forth comfortingly. 

       “I’m scared.” Oh shit, tears. 

       “Why?”

       “You hold my emotions in your hands.” Your fingers dig into his back harder. 

       “I won’t hurt you.” 

       “I know.” Your throat grows tighter. “But I’m still scared.”

       “Why?” He repeats. His chin digs into your shoulder with every syllable, but you don’t mind. 

       “This is new for me. You’re new for me.” This was your first relationship ever, and it was with one of the most flirtatious, attractive, panty-dropping guys at Johzenji. He was dangerous. 

       “I won’t hurt you. You’re new for me too.” Your heart skips a beat before running a marathon, and you pull back for a split second. It was the same racing that occurred when you had heard him alone in your room. In that moment, you had been so afraid. Your heart had constricted the moment his voice worriedly spoke. Your chest had grown tight and you couldn’t breathe. It hurt to think he could hurt you, and that he held that power in that moment. But now, after his confession, you were both in the same boat, floating on trust alone. Your heartbeat quickens at his words this time not from fear, but from anticipation.

       “My emotions for you,” his timid tone draws you back into reality. “They’re just like, really strong and that’s kinda new for me, and umm....” He’s grown shy and scared, mumbling like a nervous trainwreck. You understand the feeling and gently pat his back to regain his attention. 

       “I know. I feel the same.” You smile comfortingly at him, and the world that had been fading around you both returns in an instant. Your back is cold while your entire front is on fire. Why… “Oh shit, the fridge!” You whip around and slam the door, the mood temporarily dampened by your outburst. Terushima snickers at your panic until you return your gaze to him. His eyes darken and he bites his lip seductively. 

       “Do you want to-”

       “I still have to get those earrings out of your ears.”

       “Right, right. Priorities.” The swelling around the hoops is now an unsettling bright yellow. 

       “What the hell did you do, by the way?”

       “I may or may not have not washed them-”

       “You said you did!”

       “I panicked!” You groan and shake your head at him. The butter in the fridge is just awaiting its fate, and as you bring it over to him, freshly melted, your boyfriend has the gall to speak up once more. 

       “So why were you so scared when you busted into your room? You looked about ready to bust a crime there, copper.” He raises a brow while nervously leaning away from the steaming bowl, only for you to tug him back forcefully. 

       “I was- STOP MOVING- I was scared you were cheating on me.” You shrug at your own blatant admission. Although the fear of him actually cheating on you one day is still present, the loving looks he keeps serving you even though you might just burn his ear off any second is making you soft. 

       “In your own house?!” 

       “That’s what I thought!” Terushima laughs and you catch a glimpse of his tongue piercing. Damn. 

       “OW!” Oops.

       “Sorry.” You hastily pull back the scalding dish of melted butter and tug at the earring, whooping victoriously when it slides out. “Got it!” 

       “Holy shit, that hurt like a-”

       “Next!” You push his head into the table and turn it to view the other ear. Totally ignored, he grumbles under his breath.

       “Just be careful this time, damn.” You “mhm” distractedly and peek your tongue out of the corner of your mouth in concentration. “By the way, you know I would never hurt you that way, right-”

       “I know, I know. But it’s just hard to believe that when you’re, you know, you.” 

       He scoffs. “And who exactly is ‘me’?” 

       “A player,” you respond simply before completing the same task but with faster, more experienced hands this round. Terushima’s silent in thought, and only whimpers once when it happens. 

       “I’m not like that anymore. Not with you. You know that, right?” 

       “Uh huh, sure.” You inspect his earlobes before grabbing a couple ice cubes and pressing them to the swelled piercings.

       “What do you mean ‘sure’?!” 

       “Hey, I’m just saying, the bigger the hoop, you know?” You mockingly dangle the silver earrings in front of his face with a playful sneer.

       “Oh come on!”

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.)” 

Oreosmama’s Masterlist

AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER/LEGEND OF KORRA

CALL OF DUTY

HAIKYUU!!

MY HERO ACADEMIA

ONE PUNCH MAN

STAR WARS

STRANGER THINGS

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Other Fandoms:

Chaos Walking:

🟣Headcanons🟣

When He’s Sad (Todd Hewitt) 🌦️

Criminal Minds:

Spencer Reid: 

■  Envy on Leave 🌦️

After failing his field test, Spencer is stuck on desk duty for a week. You, his usual partner for cases, get put with Morgan for the newest case, and Spencer can’t say he’s a fan. Oh no, he’s not a fan at all. 

Jujutsu Kaisen: 

Gojo Satoru:

■  Ten to None (Soulmate AU)🌦️

Soulmates’ markings add up to ten so soulmates know just how much of a danger their soulmate is to them. You have a ten on your wrist, so you know your soulmate must have a zero. There’s just one problem: no one in history has ever been worthy of a danger rating of ten, so who the hell is the supposedly “invincible god” were you fated to? 

Peaky Blinders:

Michael Gray: 

■  Gray Chains (Yandere) 🖤☀️ 

Michael needs to see you. It’s been three days after being shot by Luca Changretta’s men, and he knows you need to see him too–especially since you’re chained up against his headboard for trying to escape from him too many times. 

■  Lost and Found (Yandere/Sequel to “Gray Chains”) 🖤🌦️ (🔔?)

Michael is weak and desperate for you after being bedridden with his gunshot wounds in the hospital, but after weeks of caring for him, you know your feelings for your former kidnapper have grown into something you don’t dare confess. One night, when you almost let your feelings slip, you decide to flee. Michael won’t let you go so easily.

Queen’s Gambit:

Benny Watts: 

■  April Showers ☀️

All dolled up and ready to confess, you await a certain chess champion’s visit as a thunderstorm rages outside. But the longer your phone call stretches on, the closer you realize he may be to feeling the same about you.

Seven Deadly Sins:

Ban:

■  More Than a Name (Soulmate AU) ☀️

While escaping from the Holy Knights who are chasing after not her, but the name on her wrist, YN runs into the last person she expected to see so soon: Ban, her soulmate. 

Top Gun: Maverick

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw:

■  Look Me in the Eyes 🌦️

During naval training, your jet crashed and burned, taking your memories with it. But the lieutenant who saved you seems to know you better than he lets on. The only issue is that he refuses to tell you his name.

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

Story Time (Ushijima x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: When you are assigned a partner project with the intimidating Ushiwaka, you start to realize he’s not all that scary, and maybe, just maybe you could teach him a thing or two about Happily Ever Afters.

Author’s Note: I’m just gonna say it now: Ushiwaka would be a big softie for his s/o. There, I said it. Anyways, he’s a lil OOC in this fic, but suck it up bc he’s adorable… well, at least to me, he is. Enjoy! 

Word count: 3344

        The rain drops on the window were having a race, and droplet number three was winning. You, the referee of this epic face off, sat in class quite boredly, barely comprehending the teacher’s droning on about a new project. You were going to have a partner and a syllabus, so there was no reason for you to listen that intensely. Your neck was sore from being held in it’s turned position for such a stretch of time, and so was the hand that held your chin, but you couldn’t care less. A tune popped into your head, and while humming slightly you began to bounce your knee to the beat as well. 

        “That song is super old, you know,” the redhead who sat beside you piped up, “try singing a newer one, like ‘Filter.’” 

        “Tendou, is there something you and YN would like to share with the class?” the teacher announced, giving your desk mate a pointed look. 

        “Sorry, miss, I was just suggesting YN change her radio station. The song she was on wasn’t really my style,” he teasingly remarked. A couple of students chuckled at the facial expressions the class clown and the teacher exchanged, but you were just glad the attention was once more off you. Finally, the teacher backed down and returned to the list she was reading aloud, and Tendou gave you a victorious smirk. 

        “’Serendipity’ is not that old,” you whispered to him while keeping your eyes on the front of the class. 

        The redhead raised his brow in return, opening his mouth to counter, “You know it's from three years ago, right. They’ve made plenty of new-”

        “YN.” The teacher’s call instantly grabbed your attention, and you looked up at her in fear of a scolding. “You’ll be partners with Ushijima.” The statement startled you, until you remembered oh crap, there’s a new project. Dark green eyes found yours from across the room, and you blushed before glancing away. Your desk mate beside you had noticed, however, and let out a small hum with a devious smirk before moving to join his own partner. 

        Tendou’s intimidating teammate sauntered over to your desk, completely dismissing the lack of personal space and invading your precious bubble. He didn’t smile at you, but he never smiled, so that was to be expected. Ushijima was known as a terrifyingly strong, but equally handsome, man, and with that information, you received the same amount of pitying looks as you did jealous. 

        Ignoring the eyes on you, you watched in your peripheral vision as Ushijima pulled up a chair right next to your desk and crashed down into it. His lumbering body wasn’t as graceful as it seemed on television, and you couldn’t help but spiral into a mental rabbit hole at the thought of him, or more specifically, his volleyball team, and the games you had seen them play on local sports stations. There was always one player your eyes never strayed from, but to be fair, the platinum blond setter was highly attractive. 

        You were drawn from your thoughts by a throat clearing at your side. This time, the man’s spine-chilling presence was too close to bear, so you scooched your own seat away slightly, only to cringe at the loud screech it made against the floor. A look flashed in Ushijima’s eyes, but it was gone too quickly for you to identify, especially as you chuckled nervously at your own blunder. Finally, he gruffly spoke up. “I think we should read books to the local elementary school.”

        Silence fell over you. Yep, that was definitely the last thing you expected to hear from the stone-faced ace. “W-we should what?” you asked incredulously.

        “For our ‘Give Back to the Community’ project. I think we should read to elementary schoolers.” Oh, so that’s what the assignment was about. However, your fellow third year’s suggestion was just as jaw-dropping as when you first heard it. To make sure he was serious, you inspected his dark orbs, only to find they were just as indifferent as when he first approached you. Well, no point in arguing with him now, you thought, instantly adhering to his admittedly good plan. In any case, you already had a younger cousin who attended that school, and would love to see her again. 

         “I think that’s a great idea,” you declared while flashing him a small smile. “What kind of books were you thinking?”

                                ~~~

        Walking through the halls, you glanced back down at the note you had for Ushijima. It was a reminder he had wanted you to make for both of you, along with a time and place of when you would read at the elementary school. Last night you had contacted its principal and had gotten the go ahead for your project. Now where is that brute, you thought as you searched for his olive-brown hair. At first, you thought it would have been easy given his hulking form. But now, after trying to hunt him down for at least twenty minutes, you were starting to grow agitated. 

        “Hey YN, looking for someone?” A voice sounded behind you. Turning around at its familiarity, you expected to also see your partner, only to flush at the sight of your crush. Tendou smirked at your red face, but he also appeared disappointed. You didn’t notice a thing, though, as your eyes hadn’t strayed once from Semi. The blond looked at you almost unimpressed, and you subconsciously wondered if there was something on your face, or if your hair had been mussed up. 

        “Y-yeah, umm,” you cleared your throat at the stutter. “Have you seen Ushiwaka anywhere? I have our project time for him.” 

        Tendou smiled at something, or someone behind you, and kept his mouth shut when a deep, stiff voice spoke, “Hello YN.” Whipping around, you beamed victoriously at the sight. The action must have blinded the ace player, because he looked away directly after. 

        Shoving the note into Ushijima’s hands, you informed him, “We got the appointment on Friday at the elementary school closest to here. I already spoke with our teacher, and she gave us permission to miss school for it, thank God. It’s around lunch, so we’ll have to leave a little before that time.” Your eyes shined with pride at what you had already done for the project, and you talked almost excitedly. You had always wanted to work with children, so you adored Ushijima’s idea. 

        “Sounds great, I’ll see you then.” 

        “Okay, see you guys around.” Waving as you walked away, you turned back and held your cold hands to your cheeks. While you had only ever truly spoken to Semi once, it was still just as nerve-wracking to speak with him directly behind you. 

        As you left down the hall, you failed to notice the three pairs of eyes on you: one indifferent, one cocky, and one… abnormally bright.

                                ~~~

        Sitting in one of two main rocking chairs of the school’s library, you were even more nervous than usual when Ushijima approached you, arriving right on time while you had chosen to roll in twenty minutes ahead of schedule. The teachers you had talked to said they would release their students at 12:30 to the library, giving the pair of you thirty minutes to choose a story and hope it would keep their attention. 

        “Hey,” you greeted your project partner, observing as he took the seat next to you. 

        “Hello,” he responded bluntly, sitting uncomfortably stiff in his chair as it began to rock on its own. The conversation seemed to have hit a dead end; that is, until you remembered something. 

        “Oh, what fairy tale did you want to read to the kids?” you asked him, standing up and approaching the section of the library evidently labeled “Fables.” While waiting for his response, you chose to busy yourself by checking out the many options available on the shelves. 

        “Preferably a calm one. Maybe… without princesses?” For the first time in your whole life, Ushijima sounded unsure of himself, almost as if fairy tales were unknown territory to him.

        You grew confused. “Well then, what’s your favorite one from when you were a kid?”

        “I never really read fairy tales as a child. Though I do remember hearing about one that does pique my interest.” You stopped and stared at your partner in bewilderment at the first half of his statement, and a frown stole the place of your smile at the confession. Who’s never read fairy tales as a kid? What a sad childhood that must have been, you thought to yourself, shaking your head in disbelief. 

        “I’m so sorry, but fairy tales are great, you should read some when you have the chance! Some are a little more sinister than others if you read from certain authors, l-like Cinderella! In the original, the stepsisters like cut off parts of their own feet, but-,” you cut yourself off, surprised at your own word vomit. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling.” Your jaw almost dropped when Ushijima, the Ushijima, brandished you a small hint of a smile, the corners of his lips slightly upturned. 

        “It’s okay, I like hearing about them. Maybe not those kinds of scenes but…” his deep voice trailed off and he gestured for you to continue. Quickly, you changed the subject and looked away to avoid making contact with his sharp, olive-colored orbs. You knew that if you had kept staring, a blush would’ve been inevitable. 

        “Umm, okay, that’s cool,” you mumbled out. “Anyways, you were saying one piqued your interest. Which one?”

        His eyes seemed to glimmer at the mention of his evidently beguiling fable, and he announced, “‘Little Red Riding Hood.’ That’s the one that has always interested me. Although I hear there are many different versions of this one, so I fear I might not be thinking of the right story for the kids. What do you think?”

        You shake your head and say, “No, no, no. That is a good one, but what happened in the version your thinking of that's got you so interested in it?”

        “Well, in the one I’ve heard about, the wolf and Little Red Riding Hood-” Ushijima is cut off by the sudden chatter of young children entering the room. Eyes widening in surprise, you check the time, only to be confused when you realize that they are a few minutes early. A teacher stumbles over to Ushijima and hurriedly explains that the kids had finished their music class ahead of schedule, so the reading would need to start prematurely.

        Hastily, you wrack your mind for the author’s name of the age-appropriate Little Red Riding Hood story and “Aha” victoriously as your eyes spot the book you were looking for. Retrieving it from the shelf, you strut over to your project partner with the slim picture book in hand, motioning for him to join you in front of the twenty-something group of elementary schoolers in your two given rocking chairs. 

        You give him a small, reassuring smile before you announce, “Hey kids, my name is YN YLN and this is Wakatoshi Ushijima and today we will be reading ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ to you guys!” Attempting to keep your voice cheerful, you are relieved when the children respond positively instead of groaning like you had expected. Spotting your little cousin in the front row of the class, you return her excited wave softly and accompany it with a large grin. Winking at Ushijima, you don’t have time to question your cheeky action before you hand him the book, allowing him to start reading his coveted fairy tale. 

                                ~~~

        As more time passes, you start to realize Ushijima is growing more and more confused with his fable. After you close the book with the classic “Happy Ever After,” you throw him a confused smile as the class of children shout a loud, rambunctious “Thank you!” Before you can question him, however, your younger cousin approaches and gives you a large hug.

        “N/N, that was so fun! I wish you would read to our class more! Can you please read to our class more?” Her voice began to transition from begging to whining, and you started to panic internally while wondering how to handle the situation. After all, you had only babysat her once before, and that night, you had done just about anything to get her to stop crying. 

        You were fearing the same result when, thankfully, her teacher came to the rescue, telling her that she needed to rejoin the class. Grumbling under her breath, your cousin gave you one last hug while glancing at Ushijima, who had been awkwardly watching the encounter from his chair. Looking away with fear, your cousin hesitantly whispered, “N/N, your boyfriend is scary.” Your cousin’s teacher was quick to usher her out of the library before you could explain that, no, the scary man was not your boyfriend, and please don’t tell the rest of the family as they will flip.

        Sighing in exasperation, you whip around and give Ushijima a shy smile and laugh before saying, “Sorry about her, she just assumed, I’ll tell her later. If she doesn’t forget by then.”

        Ushijima ignores your lame joke while responding, “That’s okay, I didn’t mind.” Hearing those words, you flush slightly and wonder if he meant it how it sounded. 

        Rapidly changing the subject, you asked him why he seemed so confused while reading the ‘Red Riding Hood’ fairy tale.

        “Well,” he admitted, “In the one I’ve always heard about, the wolf and Little Red Riding Hood fall in love, and the wolf is actually just a kind werewolf who looks scary most of the time. And Little Red Riding Hood isn’t a little girl, but an adult just like him, who ignores his flaws….” Ushijima trails off and he looks away as he begins to blush as well. Your eyebrows raise softly at his unexpectedly sheepish admission, and you smile widely. 

        “You know, if you wanted a story like that, we could always read ‘Beauty and the Beast.’ That one’s pretty much on the track you’re looking for,” You tell him, grin not stopping for an instant. 

        “We?” he asks gently and you almost choke on the oxygen in your lungs. 

        “You! You! I meant you. You could always… read it on your own, not we.” You fail to miss the way the smug glimmer in his eyes falls, and you smirk while lightly suggesting, “Unless you do want us to read it?” 

        With that, Ushijima seems to gain his confidence back, only for it to drop once more when he mutters, “I couldn’t do that. We shouldn’t do that.”

        Bewildered by his sudden change in attitude towards you, you quickly question, “Why?”

        “Because.”

        “Because?”

        “Because I’ve seen you around Semi, and I… I don’t want to ruin whatever you guys may have,” Ushijima admits, his hands subconsciously curling into fists. While watching this, your eyes widen in realization and you wonder to yourself, Am I really that obvious? Shaking away the thought, you quickly grab the man’s hand and unfurl it, holding it in both of yours while looking him in the eyes.

        “I’ll admit, before today, I did like Semi, but for appearances only! I’ve never even talked to him. Well, only once, but that was because he helped me pick up my books when I dropped them, tripping over God knows what-,” you cut off your own rambling once again, and wonder to yourself why you do that so often, especially in his presence. “Either way, my crush on him is purely visual, if that’s what you want to call it. Now... well, I’m really hoping we get a chance to read ‘Beauty and the Beast’ together. Or at least watch the movie…?” you trail off suggestively, timidly awaiting his response. 

        Ushijima is silent for a moment, and you begin to lose your confidence, loosening your grip on his hand, but he quickly grasps both of yours once more in an instant. 

        “I’d like that. A lot.”

                                ~~~

        Glancing at the clock on the gym wall, you groan and look back to the court while whining, “Wakatoshi, come on. We’re gonna miss the movie.” You bounce up and down on your toes impatiently, watching your boyfriend once again spike the ball so hard into the floor on the other side of the court that it bounces up and lands in the stands. At least I don’t flinch at the sound anymore, you thought, watching Goshiki grumble under his breath before racing up the stairs to retrieve yet another volleyball. 

        “Sorry, babe, just one more I promise,” the ace replies distractedly.  

        “Babe, huh?” Tendou asks, wiggling his eyebrows. “You guys must be getting serious. Who’d have thought Mr. Scary, Blank-Face Man would get a girlfriend, and call her ‘babe’ nonetheless!” The redhead laughs to himself loudly and cheekily elbows Shirabu in the side, who responds by shooing his hands away in irritation.

        Ignoring his teammate’s taunts, Ushijima tosses up the ball again to Semi, who sets it perfectly in place for his favorite spike. The ball hits the other half of the court so harshly you’re surprised it doesn’t pop from the pressure. Following as it travels once more into the public seating on the second level of the gym, your amazed expression drops in exchange for amusement. Everyone witnesses as it rebounds back down onto the court as a result of the ball hitting a chair. 

        “Thank God,” Goshiki mutters, dropping the first ball he got into the basket and picking up the second one just as it rolled over to him. “I am so tired of this job,” he tells you, and you giggle at his worn out expression. 

        Noticing this, Ushijima jogs over to you and swiftly kisses your cheek, giving a pointed look to the first year before packing up his gear. You roll your eyes at his possessive action and decide to help the boys clean up while waiting for your boyfriend. Just as you reach for a stray volleyball, another hand plucks it away. You glance up and smile politely at Semi while jokingly claiming, “That one was mine, you know.” 

        The blonde third year blushes at your quip, chuckling slightly before replying, “Sorry, I didn’t know you claimed it. You still want it?” He teasingly holds it out to you, but the ball is stolen out of his grip by one stronger, larger hand. 

        Looking up slowly, Semi shivers at the glare he receives from Ushijima who smoothly throws the ball into the basket behind his teammate. “Actually, it was mine.” 

        Scoffing and smirking at your boyfriend’s jealous tone, you grab his now empty hand and say, “Don’t get all pissy, let’s just go before we miss the whole movie.” As the two of you walk through the gym doors, you look over to see Ushijima glaring back at his poor teammate, who keeps his wide, brown orbs locked on the ground to avoid the ace’s wrathful gaze. You roll your eyes once more before pulling his face toward yours. The intimate act successfully captures his attention, and you playfully whisper, “You’re really hot when you’re mad. I like it.”

        Raising his brows, Ushijima’s deep voice teased, “Oh really? Well then maybe we should skip the movie altogether.” 

        You smile flirtatiously at him while biting your lip. “I like that idea. Maybe we could just talk all night long.” 

        “Sounds good, because I’m still confused as to why the little girl didn’t notice her grandmother was actually a wolf. Was she nearsighted?” You groan at his innocent change of the subject.

        “Are you serious? I’ve told you a thousand times, she was just a little girl who didn’t notice for the sake of the story!” 

        “I would’ve noticed if my grandmother was a wolf.”

        “I know, I know, ‘cause nothing flies past you, except for every single joke ever.”

        “Impossible… jokes do not fly.” 

        Your whine of exasperation fades into the night as the two of you walk home to discuss fairy tales. 

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.

i hate how writers describe your own body in x reader stories. it’s sad how chubby people have to explicitly ask for the reader to be chubby. like i try not to make my writing seem exclusive yk?? i want EVERYONE to be able to feel included. i, myself, am a chubby person and it fucking sucks seeing all these writers describing how skinny and slim the reader is:/

My mental state right now is pretty much relying on my comfort character and they're not ok and neither am I.

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.

reblogs are really appreciated !!

sgudhsjssj i love ur blog <3 was hoping if i could request a small fic where kyōtani gets horny late at night and asks f!reader to sit on his face and ‘smut’ ensues ?1??1? ahh i hope this was okay lol <3 have a good day ʕ￫ᴥ￩ʔ

KYŌTANI K. + FACE-SITTING —

c/w: f. reader; pet name “puppy”; hint of daddy kink; face-sitting; hair-pulling; pinch of manhandling

you’re home late one night // slipping into bed next to a half-awake kyou // he immediately pulls you into his side // hot chest pressed tight against yours n his cock starting to chub at the thought of fucking you

—

“couldn’t sleep without you, baby girl,” he murmurs, sliding a warm hand over your hip, fingertips just dipping and teasing under the waistband of your shorts.

“‘kenta.” your voice is a whiny whisper in the almost dark, knowing exactly where this leads— where it always leads when he gets needy and handsy like this.

“c’mon, puppy. let me taste you, yeah?” his hand dips fully under your shorts, grabbing a handful of your ass and dragging you towards him. his hips roll into your thigh, grinding his cock against your leg like a horny little dog. “please, baby, just want to make you cum in my mouth.”

with the way he pleads so softly, you give in, tugging his face to yours to finally kiss him. his lips scratch a little, slightly chapped from his constant biting on them, but it feels good, rawing your own and making them swollen.

“want you on my face, baby girl, please. hop on up here for me,” he groans, helping you wiggle out of your shorts and up to straddle his pretty face. “just want to make you cum, puppy. use my mouth, c’mon.”

perched on his face, you have the perfect view to admire him from — his fat cock hard against his thigh, the muscles in his stomach clenching as he cants his hips up into thin air.

he flattens his tongue and licks a broad, hot swath up your puffy cunt, poking the tip of his tongue to tease your little hole. he hones in on your swollen clit immediately, suckling on it hard, so, so eager to make you cum.

the swirling of his tongue makes you keen, one hand reaching behind you to fist his hair, desperately clinging onto something as you hump his soft lips. kyoutani moans at the hard pull on his roots, the sound muffled into your cunt as he harshly drags you down by the hips, burying his face entirely.

you whine and hiccup, all needy for your daddy, “gonna cum, ‘kenta- please, daddy, ‘m gonna m- make a mess.”

“nuh-uh, puppy,” he laughs and pulls away.

kyoutani knows he’s got you right where he wants you, teetering and desperate to cum. the grip he has on your waist tightens suddenly as he lifts you off of his face, tossing you to the side with a little squeal as you bounce on the mattress.

the cocky grin he gives you is shiny and wet, eyes dark as he moves over you. “’m not done with you yet.” <//3

atsumu’s not going to college.

it’s not what he wants, and it’s not a requirement for his plans for the future. he has a one track road set for going pro in the volleyball industry, and he has no plans for detours slowing him down.

that was always “the plan”, and you were not part of it — you were always going to college, and you were going to spend the full time there making sure your future’s on the right track.

that’s why he broke up with you.

the two years he spent with you throughout high school gone down the drain the second he decided this would be better for him — and he feels like he’s wrong, because he still checks on you when you’re not looking — but atsumu’s dead set on the fact that he’ll only slow you down if he kept you with him.

or so, until now.

“atsumu, it’s two in the morning.” you tell him, your yawns coming in a drip drop motion as you try to understand what he’s doing in front of you right now.

it’s been two weeks since you last saw him — two weeks since the breakup — two weeks of no calls, texts or even acknowledgements from in between classes or study halls.

but now he’s here, standing on your doorstep, and you’re not really sure if you want him to be.

atsumu tells you, “i have a solution.”

“it’s two in the morning.” you remind him again.

and he only repeats, “i have a solution.”

your eyebrows furrow, “do you want to come inside?”

“no,” he shakes his head, his nose red from the cold, and he tells you, “you have to listen to me.”

you bring your arms up to your chest, not feeling so warm yourself, and you hate that he chose to do on the coldest night of the month.

you tell him, “i can listen to you inside.”

and he only replies, “i have a solution.

and you frown, “so we’re not going inside.”

you have no idea what he’s talking about, all you know is that you’re still upset with him for ghosting you right after breaking up with you, and you’re not sure if you’re ready to forgive him for that yet.

you sigh, “why are you here?”

and he nods, “because i can get a job — i’ll work on the volleyball thing most hours of the day — but whenever i’m free, i can take shifts in the local café near your campus.”

you cut him off, “wait — my campus?”

“yeah,” atsumu nods, “i checked, and they have an opening and i can totally get a job there.”

atsumu? with a job? at a cafe? you can’t even put it to words, but you’re unsure when he visited your campus, unsure why he’s even doing all this in the first place.

“a job?” you raise a brow, “why do you need a job?”

atsumu ignores your question, shivering as the cold hits him, his breath turning white as it leaves his mouth, and he continues, in a frantic fit, “i have a car, it’s for my 20th birthday but my dad agreed he can give it to me early — and i have a lot saved up so there’s that for an apartment too.”

you’ve never seen atsumu be so nervous, you’ve seen him before his games and after his losses, but he’s never looked like this — never looked so worried.

“slow down.” you break through his endless string of sentences, your eyebrows furrowing as you’re still so confused and lost of what’s going on, and you say, “it’s two am.”

atsumu doesn’t respond.

you touch his arm, “have you slept?”

he feels silly — this is the first time you’ve seen him in two weeks and he must look insane to you already. he doesn’t care, he’s tired, he misses you, he’s been missing you for two weeks, and he hasn’t stopped.

atsumu looks at you, “i don’t want to break up with you.”

you stare back at him, blinking profusely as if trying to make of the situation, and your heart softens as easily as it leaps — because you didn’t want to break up with him either.

he still looks frantic, like he’s a second away to pull his hair out, and you’d offer to let him inside the house one more time, but you’ve got a strong feeling that he’d just say no again.

“i have the place, the car, the job — you have college and i’ll have my volleyball — and i know this isn’t what we planned, but i have the solution and i really think we can make this work.” atsumu tells you all of this, a straight (frantic) tone coming through his words, he catches his breath, and he’s ready to talk to you again.

but your eyes are gentle, “what are you talking about?”

he looks at you, like he’s nervous to be looking at you, a huge lump in his throat the he needs to be swallowing down soon since he’s gone too long without speaking — and he’s nervous, because this situation earns him every right to be nervous.

he’s only 20, unsure of every decision he’s making towards his future, but he’s just spent the last two weeks without you, and the first real thing he’s realized is that there’d be nothing worse than that.

the night is cold.

atsumu stares, “will you marry me?”

𝐬𝐲𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜. (bokuto kōtarō x reader)

denoting a mutually beneficial relationship between different people or groups.

contains : nsfw content, car sex, mutual pining, multiple orgasms, lots and lots of dirty talk, creampie

word count : 2k

note : reposting from my other blog!

‘hey, what are you up to tonight?’

you roll your eyes at his attempt to be casual, asking what you’re doing tonight despite it being nearly midnight. however, there’s a small part of you that’s thankful for this little “pre hookup foreplay,” as he loved to call it. getting up from the warmth of your bed, you type a quick response as you make your way to the bathroom.

‘nothing, why?’

it’s simple enough— not too forward, but still allowing a continuation of the conversation, if he wants to. no matter how many times the two of you had done this little song and dance, you’d never been the one to initiate it nor would you ever ask him first. it’s far too risky—there’s no telling if he’s even here, or if he’s off at some away game across the world. no telling if he’s in a mood, no telling if he even still has your number. so you wait for him. always.

‘can i pick you up?’

heat rises to your cheeks and you hate that even after all this time, the butterflies in your stomach remain all the same.

‘yeah, i’ll be ready in 20’

nearly half an hour later you find yourself climbing into the sleek black SUV and you’re met with bokuto’s eager, glowing eyes raking over your form. the smell of his cologne hits your nostrils and you have to stop the whine that threatens to fall past your lips. he is the most intoxicating man you’ve ever seen. everything about him pulls you in, deeper and deeper until all that’s left is him.

“hey baby,” bokuto hums, his palm already running up and down your exposed thigh. the pet name rolls off his tongue much too easily for your liking but when you feel his rough, calloused hands squeeze your hips there isn’t much you can say. “how’s my pretty girl doin?”

heat rises to your cheeks as you gently push his hands away and look down at your lap. but his grip doesn’t even budge. you peek up at him through your lashes and catch a glimpse of his wild eyes, pupils dilated and full of need.

“kō, i–”

“kiss me.” he interrupts, bringing his palms up to your cheeks to cradle your face. “please? just kiss me.”

the desperation in his voice is crystal clear. he can’t be alone, can’t spend one more night in his bed by himself when there’s the possibility to have you in his arms instead.

there’s no part of you that wants to deny him, no part that ever could. not when he’s begging you to stay by his side.

neither of you were ready for a relationship, both far too impulsive and emotionally unstable. but that didn’t diminish the love either of you felt.

loving bokuto is reminiscent of the legend of icarus. with you as icarus and bokuto as the sun. his vibrance and positive outlook on life is so alluring you can’t help but gravitate toward him. he brings a light into every room he enters. how could you not follow him?

however, much like the legend, you’ll end up flying too close to the sun and end up scalded. his schedule is impossibly hectic, he’s never in one place for more than a month at a time, and even when he is stationary there’s still a million and one things to do in his everyday life, which leaves no time for anyone else. even if both parties tried as hard as they could.

but on the rare occasion of having some time off, bokuto would always come running to you.

-

time feels like it stops when your lips finally meet, thick and heavy air surrounding you both. his hand caress your hair as he pulls you even closer to him, your lower abdomen starting to press into the center console.

his face nearly drops after you push lightly on his chest to get some air, but he quickly recovers as he watches you climb into the backseat of the car.

“yeah?” he’s breathless as he speaks, large hands gripping the backs of the driver and passenger seats. his knuckles are turning white by the time you flash him a shy smile and nod.

“yeah.”

bokuto fumbles as he moves, his broad shoulders getting caught on the seatbacks. you can’t help but giggle at the way his eyebrows furrow as he pushes his way through, climbing on top of you and effectively managing to cage you within his arms.

“don’t make me wait any longer,” your voice comes out as a needy whisper, each word dripping with hope. he’s never been able to deny you— especially not when you beg so perfectly.

his hand slips into your panties easily, and he lets out a low groan when his fingers glide over your slick pussy.

“this wet already?” you can hear his smirk.

“please–” you whine, gripping his bicep and pulling his arm closer to you as you grind your hips into his hand at the same time.

“please what?” he answers simply, refusing to sink his fingers into you too soon. your mind blanks, shaking your head as another whine rips from your throat. “greedy little thing,” bokuto mumbles under his breath, bringing his other hand up to the back of your neck and pressing your foreheads together.

“please what, baby?”

“pleasetouchmekotaroineedtofeelyouplease–”

he shushes you by pressing his lips into yours and dipping two of his thick fingers into your tight, warm cunt. even though it’s only two of his fingers the stretch is already so much. he slowly works them in deeper, gently dragging the rough pads of his fingertips along your tender walls. you let out a little gasp as he stretches your tight pussy out, curling his middle finger to hit that spot inside of you that makes you whimper.

“right th–”

“–there, yeah i know pretty girl. right there’s your lil spot isn’t it? right there’s where you need it?” the slight hint of degradation behind his words makes your mind go blank as you begin to nod your head rapidly. your hips also start moving of their own accord as your first orgasm begins rising in your abdomen. bokuto can tell you’re close, the way your voice gets extra breathy and your pussy quivers around his fingers tells him everything he needs to know.

he leans in close, placing a hot open mouthed kiss on the spot just below your earlobe. before pulling away and whispering,

“go ahead, baby, cum all over my fingers. be a good girl and cum for me, c’mon-”

and you do, because there’s no part of you that could ever deny him anything he asked for.

everything pauses and it takes a few moments for you to catch your breath again. bokuto doesn’t give you nearly enough time to recover before he’s gripping your chin with one hand and making you watch as he licks his cumsoaked fingers clean.

the sight alone makes your clit throb, but when bokuto instinctively grinds his hard cock into the plush of your slightly exposed thigh a needy whine falls from your lips.

“more?” is all he says, flattening his hand over your chest, giving gentle squeezes to your flesh.

you nod desperately in response, wrapping your legs around his waist. his cock brushes against your soaked core, the fabric of your panties completely drenched in your own slick and cum.

“oh baby,” bokuto coos, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and slowly peeling them down your legs. “made such a mess of your pretty panties..”

before you can protest, he’s slipping them into his pocket while nipping at your inner thigh in an attempt to distract you.

“for later.” he whispers. you watch with wide eyes as bokuto pulls on the drawstring on his sweats. you reach down between the two of you and wrap your fingers around the base of his cock.

“‘s so big, kō…” you muse, giving his cock an experimental squeeze. bokuto whines in response, thrusting his hips up, silently encouraging you to continue.

“yeah baby?” his voice is breathy, an obvious sign that he’s already close. “you think you can take it?”

“please”

the angle is a bit awkward, your head bumps the car door handle but bokuto leans down, pushing your knees up to your chest. your attempt to kick your feet in protest is feeble at best, because as soon as he wraps his lips around your clit, your body goes slack.

and then a few seconds later he’s above you again, only this time you can feel the fat head of his cock gliding over your soaked folds. he wastes no more time, lining himself up and pushing into you, inch by inch. he’s careful to not overwhelm you, allowing you to adjust and he even moves his hand from the back of your knee to cradle the back of your head.

his hips still when they meet yours, despite every nerve in his body screaming at him to pound you into the plush leather seats of the backseat of his car.

“hey, you okay?” he forces himself to focus back on you, to ignore the horny little voice in his head in favor of your wellbeing.

“yeah,” you exhale shakily. “i’m great.”

that’s all the reassurance he seems to need because as soon as those words leave your lips he’s pulling out halfway, and immediately thrusting back into you. he sets a brain melting pace, his fat cock hitting sensitive spots you forgot even existed. all you can do is lay there and take it, occasionally babbling about how good he feels and how well he fucks you.

“fuck, tight ‘lil thing aren’t you?” he sounds like he’s miles away, but everything about him surrounds you completely.

a simple shift of his hips has you hurtling toward your second orgasm, your pussy still extremely sensitive from the first. you grasp at his shoulders, raking your nails down his toned arms and you swear you hear him chuckle.

“keep squeezin’ me like that and i just might cum too, pretty girl.”

abandoning all rational thought, you respond. “s-so do it.”

his hips stutter and he grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “what did you just say?”

your eyes widen, afraid that you’ve gone too far but his eyes are just as wild, just as desperate.

“cum inside of me, kōtarō, i want you to fill me up.” you can hardly believe the words that come out of your mouth but before you can take them back you see the glimmer in bokuto’s eyes.

he grins, “yeah baby? you want me to pump your little pussy full, is that it?”

your face burns with embarrassment but you nod anyway, figuring there’s no use denying something you both want. bokuto watches as you hook your arms under your knees, holding yourself open, perfectly poised just for him.

he loses what little control he has left, pulling out so just the tip of his cock is still inside of you before slamming his hips back, reaching down to thumb your aching clit. his thrusts soon become erratic and it’s not long after until you’re both babbling about how you’re going to cum.

“please fill me up, please-” your whines are pathetic, and you’re cut off by your third orgasm sneaking up on you, sending white hot waves of pleasure throughout your body. bokuto lets out a low groan before he bottoms out, and you feel the warmth of his cum inside of you.

“so good baby, such a good girl-” bokuto praises as you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm. he cradles your cheek with his hand and leans down to litter your face in soft kisses. he’s always cuddly and affectionate after sex, not that you’d ever complain.

“i’m here for the weekend, by the way.” he says between kisses. “and if you’re not busy i’d love to spend it with you..”

you smile softly, nodding in response. “i’d like that.”