Just A Little Confession (Kuroo X Reader)
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
More Posts from Oreosmama and Others
HII I JUST WANTED TO SAY REBORN IS SO SO SO AMAZING!!! I love it sm I swear I’ve read it at LEAST 5 times now!! Thank you for creating such amazing stories, I’ve even gone read the ones about fandoms I know nothing about because you’re writing is so INCREDIBLE!!!!!! 💞💞💞
akcnkdndksndn this comment is so freaking sweet and I ain’t gonna forget it ever🥺☺️ I’m glad you’re liking what you see!!💜🥰
i loved your yandere hc’s of the darling trapping them in a room while they try to escape. could you please do another version of that with sugawara and kuroo? or just suga please ?
Darling Traps Them in a Room to Escape (Yandere Haikyuu Headcanons)
*GIFs not mine*
Ushijima and Oikawa Version
Bokuto, Kageyama, and Kenma Version
Tendou and Hinata Version
A/N: HmmmmmmmmmIlikethisonemmmmmm. Thanks for the request! Honestly, I went a little off the rails with both, hope ya don’t mind. Sorry it’s been a while, but enjoy! (Side note: thanks for 1.7k followers cuz apparently that happened while I was gone holyfuckthankyou)
Word count: 2490
Sugawara Koushi:
First, the keys jingled in the door. “YN, I’m home!”
“Hey Suga, can you come look at something in the bathroom for me?”
And that’s how, two hours later, you were still looking for those damn keys he set down when he went to help you.
The plan felt genius at the time. At least until you realized you had trapped Sugawara inside with every single one of your bobby pins. Now you couldn’t use them and he couldn’t use them. Thankfully, you had enough brains to shove a kitchen chair under the door while you searched.
“YN, please stop and think about what you’re doing, darling. This is ridiculous.”
He sounded so calm. Then again, didn’t he always? That’s why it pissed you off so much.
“Hmm, let’s see. Fuck no, and fuck you.”
“Watch your language, darling.” His tone dipped tensely, but trapped inside the bathroom, he couldn’t do anything to you now.
“Fuck you twice, then, Suga.”
You picked over everything in the living room. Behind the TV, under the couch-- hell, you even had half a mind to search inside the oven. Nothing.
“YN, you’re acting absurd. Come let me out and just tell me what’s wrong.”
“YN, please don’t test my patience. Just let me out, love.”
Your blood boiled at how level-headed he was. He sounded so damn confident that you wouldn’t escape, so self-assured that you wouldn’t be able to leave him.
I’m gonna prove him wrong.
You resorted to pen caps while he whined, chucking a few at the bathroom door in annoyance when he got a little too loud. “YNNNN please! I’m getting lonely in here. Won’t you come join me?”
When you ran out of those, you moved onto trying to bend forks. “YN, at least just talk to me so I know you’re okay. For all I know, you could be really hurt and need my help out there.” CLANG! You chuckled at the yelp Sugawara let out after hurling the fork at the door.
And then, for a solid ten minutes, Sugawara fell into silence. First, you counted it as a blessing. Maybe he passed out. Maybe he died.
You doubted you were that lucky.
Instead, while you perked your tongue out the corner of your mouth and wiggled a single fork prong around inside the main door lock, you heard a noise that made you want to cry.
*jingle* *jingle*
The keys. The motherfucking keys. He had them the entire time. You could’ve sworn you heard him set them down what must’ve been two hours ago now, but evidently you were wrong.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”
“C’mon, YN. Doesn’t this make your efforts pointless now?”
Your jaw clenched at that, and you knelt down once more, jamming the fork into the main lock with more force. Your vicious stabs flooded the apartment, and apparently only served as entertainment for Sugawara.
“Sweetheart, you’re so adorable when you get all bratty like this. It almost makes me not want to punish you, but that just wouldn’t be fair now, would it?”
*Click*
The apartment fell into a dead silence. Sugawara sucked in a breath behind the bathroom door, and you stared in amazement when the lock clicked open.
“Holy shit,” you mumble, hands shaking in surprise. “Holy shit. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, I got it! I fucking GOT IT!”
“YN, DON’T GO THROUGH THAT FUCKING DOOR OR YOU’LL BE SORRY!” Sugawara’s desperate cries almost got you to stop, but you were already on the high of winning.
“Too late now.” You grinned and whipped open the unlocked door, dashing into the halls with Sugawara calling after you.
In the apartment, the walls were soundproofed and the windows were blacked out, but when you sprinted through the corridors, you were surprised to see you were on the first floor. A clear glass door had never looked so beautiful as you shoved your way out of the apartment building, hopping right over the steps to the street and landing flat on the sidewalk. Your muscles burned from the sudden burst of movement after being trapped in a confined space for so long, but you would make do.
What you had to do now was find someone to help you, like-- there!
A police officer right down the street, dressed in full uniform and ordering from a hot dog stand.
“OFFICER!” You raced toward him, almost tripping over your feet before sliding to a stop right at his side. At the shout, he had glanced up in surprise, but a look of recognition fell over his face at the sight of you.
“YN? What are you-... are you okay?” The cop had warm, brown eyes and short, dark hair fluffed around his sunglasses, but he still didn’t look even the slightest bit familiar to you.
“Do I… know you?” You furrowed your brows, glancing the officer up and down a couple more times just to make sure you were right.
“Yeah- well, no, not really. But-”
“YN!” Oh shit. Sugawara scurried toward you in an all-out sprint, pushing past others on the sidewalk and reaching out a hand toward you. “YN, please!”
Without a second thought, you returned your gaze, more panicked this round, to the cop once more. “Please help me! That guy back there kidnapped me for, like, I don’t know how long, but I just escaped! Please, cuff him or something!”
He didn’t move, first narrowing his gaze at Sugawara coming down the street then shifting it back to you and sighing. “Come with me.” In what you hoped was a comforting manner, the officer wrapped an arm around your shoulder and led you right in the direction of Sugawara. Instinctively, you panicked and tried to wiggle away, but with one “it’ll be okay” from the cop along with a kind smile, you relented and allowed him to lead you back.
The instant you were close enough, Sugawara reached out for you, but the cop batted his hands away. “Suga, stop it!” Wait, what. The hopeful expression on your face fell away in exchange for blankness with a mix of confusion. What the fuck.
“Daichi, please, just help me! I don’t know how, but she got out!”
Oh shit, they know each other.
OH SHIT, THEY KNOW EACH OTHER!
The second that thought flitted through your brain, they were already both dragging you back toward the apartment building, both of their combined strengths overpowering you easily. “SOMEBODY HEL-” Sugawara shoved a hand over your mouth and helped Daichi lead you back into the building, straight back into your little, personal hell.
First, you were sent to your room like a child while the grown ups discussed what went wrong and where. Couple of dickheads.
“Fuck you both.”
Sugawara only slammed the door in your face before talking to the cop.
“Jesus, Suga, I thought you said you could handle it?”
“I thought I could too, but she got out somehow!”
“It’s only been a damn month and I can’t even trust you to keep her safe inside for that long? I never even got to meet her, for fuck’s sake.”
“I know, I know, but now you have, Daichi. Isn’t she beautiful? Just like when we first met her.”
“Right, but now we’re both on her bad side. How the fuck are we supposed to fix that?”
“Let me handle it. I know just how she likes to be punished.”
Well shit. Of course, they were in it together. Because who could possibly have worse luck than you, their darling.
Kuroo Tetsurou:
You weren’t sure how it happened. One minute, he was entering your room, a forlorn look in his gaze seeming almost abnormal on his face. The next, his lips and hands were all over you, all over your body. And you let him.
When you woke the next day, the sun wasn’t even in the sky. A glance to your nightstand told you it was turning close to four am, but only then did you seem to have some true clarity.
Oh God. Oh God, what have I done?
Your body felt covered in germs, sticky with dried sweat and sore with stiff muscles.
He touched me. I let him touch me.
Disgusting. Gross. Used. Unclean. But how could you excuse letting him do that to you? You hadn’t even put up a fight, and in the back of your mind, you remembered actually liking it.
Kuroo was sound asleep by your side, his chest and cheek pressed to the mattress while an arm draped over your midsection. It was hot, too hot. At any second, you were afraid he would wake up and see the fear in your eyes, because you knew if he saw it, he wouldn’t let you go.
Moving his arm was a painstaking process. Every time he let out a snore, you would move it just an inch higher, and after what felt like hours, you were finally free. You set his arm back down on the bed before rising to your feet and padding to the door. Opening it without a squeak seemed to be a worse challenge.
Reek.
“Mmm, where are you going, Kitten?”
It was everything about him that set your skin crawling. The raspy tone, the smug glint in his eye, the teasing lilt of the nickname. When you responded, you were surprised with how confident you sounded.
“The bathroom. I’ll come right back, I just, uh, couldn’t hold it anymore.” Too much information? Maybe so, but it seemed to do the trick. Kuroo shifted onto his side and propped himself up on an elbow, the sheet over his body inching down a bit farther.
“Hurry back.”
A dismissal, and with a nod, you left. Truly, it wasn’t completely an excuse. You went to the bathroom and did your business, but while washing your hands, you tried to cleanse more. Hand soap was lathered all the way up to your elbows as you rubbed them raw, bottom lip trapped between your teeth.
How could you let that happen? How could you just agree to letting him touch you?
You scrubbed your face clean of the stale sweat and dabbed the skin with the hand towel. What have you done, YN? Movements slowing, you let the rag slip from your fingers before dragging your eyes down to your body. Neck, covered in bite marks. Wrists, red from a tight grip. Hips, bruised purple and blue. Kuroo had taken a part of you last night you had never wanted to give to him, not since he kidnapped you from your home seven months ago. He had said he was lonely, lost, saddened because he loved you so much and knew you would never feel the same.
In a lapse of your own judgement, you foolishly said he was wrong. After months of being deprived of human contact, you were desperate for anyone’s touch. Now, you were paying the consequences. But you didn’t want to stay here.
No. Get out of here.
When you left the bathroom, you caught sight of the sofa straight across in the living. Dragging it over was easy, but doing it quietly was a pain. As lightly as you could, you leveraged the furniture under your bedroom’s door knob.
Then you began the search.
“Kitten?” Still groggy. Good.
His bedroom was clean. Nothing hidden in the box in a closet. Nothing hidden in the drawers of his dresser or nightstand.
“YN?” The door knob rattled, but didn’t move. “Really, YN? You wanna do this now?”
The kitchen was clear, and so was the living room coffee table.
“God, it’s so early. Can’t you just come back to bed and we’ll discuss this later?”
Your hands shook the more you couldn’t find that damned key. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing!
“FUCK!” you shouted, running a hand through your hair and slamming the glass door of the console closed. Behind your bedroom door, Kuroo chuckled.
“Having trouble, Kitten?”
“God, I hate you,” you hissed, dropping to the couch and shoving your head into your hands. Not even a headache of frustration was arising. Only a tight pain was growing in your chest. Every time your heart thumped, it ached and choked you up.
“Now, we both know that’s not true. After all, have you already forgotten what happened last night?”
“Don’t…”
“Don’t what, Kitten? I know you don’t want to leave. Do you really want to go out into the real world after I’ve been with you? Can you live a normal life knowing that?”
“Stop…”
“Last night, Kitten. You said you loved me. Said you always would-”
“I didn’t mean it!”
“Didn’t you? Didn’t you beg for more as I kissed you? Wasn’t it my name you moaned as I made love to you?”
“JUST STOP!” You kicked up to your feet and wiped away your tears, stomping over to the bedroom door only to bang on it. “GOD, I HATE YOU SO MUCH!”
The worst part is he never even took it to heart. No, even after your screams and your cries, your pleas and your whimpers, you could still hear the arrogance in his tone.
There was a smirk on his face. After what felt like hours of breaking down, you dropped into a worn out sleep right into the sofa lodged under the door. And when you woke, six long, dreamless hours later, you were back in the bed where it all began.
“I knew you didn’t want to leave me, Kitten. Now stay here and rest. I’ll bring you breakfast when it’s ready.” His fingers, rough and hot, were gentle against your stiff cheek. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and when you felt your last drop of dignity wither, you reached out and snagged his hand again.
“Tetsurou.”
“Hmm?”
You couldn’t even meet his gaze. It was so full of pure love that you resented the warmth it spread through your veins. “I don’t… I don’t want to love you.”
A muscle twitched in his cheek.
“It’s wrong, what you did to me. Bringing me here. But… but I do anyway.”
At that, he turned away, but not before you saw genuine happiness twinkle in his eyes.
You wanted to hate it. You really did. You wanted to wipe his hidden smugness right off his face. But instead, you pressed your cheek back into your pillow and watched him pad out of the room, only to stop in the doorway.
“Kitten?”
“Hmm?”
God, he was going to keep you in his arms forever. “I love you too.”
Haikyuu!! Masterlist
☔ = Angst
🌦️ = Angst to Fluff
💥 = Crack
☀️ = Fluff
💋 = Smut
🖤 = Yandere
🔔 = Request
🟪Imagines🟪
Akaashi Keiji:
■ Burned Promises 🔔 ☔
Every letter he wrote you was useless now. After he cheated, they were filled with nothing but lies, and what was the point of keeping lies lying around? (Based on Hamilton song “Burn.”)
■ Language of Love ☀️
Speaking French in front of your crush was not as discreet as you originally thought. Maybe you should just start texting from now on…
■ Paper Cranes 🔔 ☔
A thousand paper cranes led to one wish. Or at least that’s what the legend said. Akaashi never wanted or even minded if it was true. At least, not until you came along.
■ Reborn (Bokuto/Akaashi x Reader) 🌦️💥 (slight 💋)
Supernatural/Soulmate AU; Series (Ongoing)
How do normal people react when they get kidnapped by a vampire and a wizard claiming to be their soulmates? Because you try to choke them out with their own breakfasts. But maybe that’s just you.
■ Rose of Thorns 🔔 ☔
Akaashi was much like a rose. He was beautiful, soft and enchanting. But he also had many undeniable thorns. (Based on “Rose” by Jereena Montemayor.)
Bokuto Koutarou:
■ Cock Block 💥 (slight 💋)
Bokuto just wants to get some, but the universe is not always on his side.
■ A Hairy Situation (Soulmate AU) 🌦️
Back home in America, YN was happy 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.
■ If It Ain’t Broke 🌦️
You broke up with Bokuto for a good reason. At least, what you thought was a good reason. But right now you can’t help but miss him terribly, and according to Akaashi, he’s feeling the exact same. But did you really break him like his friend said?
■ Love Me Through the Phone 💋
After Bokuto leaves for an away game on Valentine’s Day weekend, you’re left to handle the day’s pleasures all on your own. There’s just one little problem–nothing comes close to what Bokuto could give you. Luckily, he offers a solution, and though it’s completely out of your wheelhouse, you find yourself desperate enough to give in.
Warnings: smut, phone sex, mutual/guided masturbation, dirty talk, slight praise kink, slight dumbification, edging (if you squint), (gentle) dom!Bokuto
■ Praiseworthy 💋
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.
Warnings: SMUT!!!, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, praise kink
■ Reborn (Bokuto/Akaashi x Reader) 🌦️💥 (slight 💋)
Supernatural/Soulmate AU; Series (Ongoing)
How do normal people react when they get kidnapped by a vampire and a wizard claiming to be their soulmates? Because you try to choke them out with their own breakfasts. But maybe that’s just you.
Hinata Shoyo:
■ Home Alone 💥
You should never leave Hinata alone with the responsibility of the chores in the house. Especially when your next-door neighbor is a dick.
■ Tug of War (Soulmate AU) 🔔 💥 ☀️
You had a nervous habit, and to your soulmate, it was a bit cruel. From time to time, you would occasionally tug on your red string of fate. You never really saw the effects… at least, not until now. “Hinata, are you okay?!”
Iwaizumi Hajime:
■ Innocent Misunderstanding 💥
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.
■ Misleading Marks (Soulmate AU) 💥 (slight 🌦️)
Your soulmark is a wonderfully misleading pain in the tuchus. Luckily, your hunk of a soulmate makes it all worth it.
Kageyama Tobio:
■ Petty Competition 💥
After you get a new pet in your home, Kageyama can’t help but feel a little neglected after a while. It’s all Snickers’ fault.
■ Volleyball on the Brain (Soulmate AU) 💥☀️
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.
Konoha Akinori:
■ One-Sided Future 🔔 ☔
It’s hard to see a person fall in love with another who never intends on sharing a future with that person. It’s even harder when that person is you. (Based on “I Can’t Make You Love Me” by Bon Iver)
Kozume Kenma:
■ Indebted and In Debt (Vampire AU) 💥
Kozume Kenma is one of the most infamous vampires to ever exist, the legends of him and his clan rivaling that of Dracula himself. His preserved sarcophagus lies in the heart of Tokyo’s Supernatural Museum, subsection C: Vampires. You, on the other hand, are the reason wet floor signs exist. A chance slip, an accidental cut, and a band aid missing the trash can all lead to the chance meeting of you and the vampire committed to serving you eternally. “I am forever indebted to you, Mistress.”
■ The Red String of Nothingness (Soulmate AU) ☔ Part 2 🌦️ 🔔
You’ve been waiting for your soulmate your whole life. Preparing to go into high school, you’re excited for more opportunities to find your destined partner. But… then you find him. And his girlfriend.
Kuroo Tetsurou:
■ Bed Head 💥(slight 💋)
Kuroo’s hair was an undeniable nuisance. It was a shame, though, because it was here to stay.
■ The Deal 🌦️(slight 💋)
Kuroo needs your help wooing the pain in the ass cheerleader that’s your lab partner. But what if Kuroo wasn’t actually trying to pursue her?
■ Forgive In Time 🔔 ☔
Kuroo always teased you, joked with you during class. You couldn’t help but grow feelings for him. Evidently he didn’t return them. (Based on “Ready Yet” by Sasha Sloan.)
■ Just a Little Confession 🌦️
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.
■ Pumpkin Eater ☔ (Part 2 Options: Second Chance or Never Again) 🌦️(slight 💋) 🔔
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.
Miya Osamu:
Lapse in Judgement 🔔 ☔
A car crash has taken Osamu’s brother away, the boy you liked so dearly. Osamu was dull to the pain, his crush on you blinding him from reality. But when he dyes his hair in hopes that he could make you feel the same, he realizes he may have gone too far.
Nishinoya Yuu:
■ Bad Sleeping Habits 💥(slight 💋)
You and Nishinoya have some pretty weird sleeping habits.
■ The Claw 💥
Claw machines are unfair, and your boyfriend is seriously impatient. You see where this is going, right?
Oikawa Tooru:
■ Across the Hall 🌦️(slight 💋)
Across the hall lived Oikawa, a smug womanizer who never knew how to confront his one-night stands after their five minutes of fame. To avoid confrontation, he repeatedly seeks refuge in your apartment, or in his case, in your bed. But what happens when you start to grow feelings for this amorous neighbor of yours?
■ Fake Marks, True Love 🌦️(slight 💋)
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?”
■ I Wanna Build a Snowman ☀️
Oikawa just wants to build a snowman on one of the coldest days of the year with his beloved girlfriend. What could go wrong?
■ Maid for Him 🖤
You were his maid. His lover. His life. He simply couldn’t let that sleazy visiting prince anywhere near you.
■ The Miracle of Childbirth 💥
Yours and Oikawa’s children were the most amazing creatures on Earth… except when they acted like munchkin-sized pain in the asses.
■ On a Cold Winter’s Night ☀️(slight 💋)
Trapped in the university library due to a raging blizzard outside, you are forced to endure the cold night with the man you hate the most: the player who lives in the dorm across from you, Tooru Oikawa. But with tensions and anxieties at an all-time high, you begin to realize your feelings for Oikawa aren’t quite what you thought they were, especially when all he wants to do is keep you warm.
■ Talking to the Moon🌦️
After breaking up to go their separate ways after high school, YN and Oikawa struggle to accept the fact that neither is willing to give up their career paths for the other. Instead, they both confide in the moon, wishing that it was their other half. (Based on “Talking to the Moon” by Bruno Mars.)
■ Warm Embrace ☀️
Naked cuddles with Oikawa need no purpose.
Sawamura Daichi:
■ Grudges and Ice Cream 🌦️
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.
Sugawara Koushi:
■ A Cut Above the Rest 🔔 🌦️
At the Shiratorizawa vs Karasuno game, it breaks your heart to see Sugawara get so excited by Kiyoko’s touch. After a long day of the silent treatment, your boyfriend must show you just how much more you affect him than any other girl around.
■ You Told Me So ☀️
He was right. You should’ve brought a jacket before trekking outside on a rainy day. You just wish he would say he was right.
Tendou Satori:
■ Indecipherable Secret Code 💥☀️
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.
■ No One but You (slight 💋)
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?
Terushima Yuuji:
■ Pumpkin Eater ~Part 2~ Never Again 🔔 🌦️(slight 💋)
Last night, your friend sent you pictures of Kuroo with some girl at a random club. Not only was he a liar, but he was also a cheater, and you couldn’t stand to be with him after this.
■ The Bigger the Hoop 🌦️
Terushima’s got your heart held in his hands. And your earrings stuck in his ears.
Tsukishima Kei:
■ Bet 💥
You ended up wearing a green bean costume to school the next day. Why? Ugh, don’t ask.
■ Don’t Slouch 💥☀️
You’ve got a bad habit. You know that. So why does that blond smartass in your class keep ragging you about it?
■ Loving Tradition 🔔 🌦️
Tsukishima has accidentally started a growing tradition with you: he will attend your home volleyball games, and you will attend his. But why does it hurt so much when you finally miss one of his own games? Surely he doesn’t like you that much… right?
■ Practice Makes Perfect 💥☀️
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.
Ushijima Wakatoshi:
■ Sober Thoughts 🌦️(skippable 💋 scene)
Drunk and full of bad decisions, you decide to walk to Tendou’s apartment to wallow in hopelessness over your feelings for Ushijima. But wait… why is Tendou taller and bulkier than usual?
Warnings: SMUT!!! cunnilingus, first-time squirting, & slight praise kink maybe??
■ Story Time ☀️
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.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
🟣Headcanons🟣
Cheering Up Sad S/O (Tsukishima, Bokuto, Kenma) 🔔 ☀️(slight 💥)
Darling Traps Them in a Room to Escape (Ushijima, Oikawa) (Sugawara, Kuroo) (Bokuto, Kageyama, Kenma) (Tendou, Hinata) 🖤
He Has a Nightmare About Losing You (Kenma, Bokuto, Kuroo, Kageyama, Hinata) 🌦️💥 (slight 💋)
He Returns from an Away Game (Hinata, Kageyama, Oikawa, Bokuto, Ushijima) 🌦️💥 ☀️ (slight 💋)
How They Kiss (Oikawa, Bokuto, Terushima, Daichi, Kuroo, Ushijima) ☀️
Pretending to Moan Another Guy’s Name (Oikawa, Tsukishima, Tendou)🌦️(slight 💥)
“Spread Your Legs”... to Cuddle (Kenma, Kageyama, Nishinoya, Atsumu) 🔔☀️💥 (slight 💋)
Voicemails After the Breakup (Kuroo, Ushijima, Atsumu) (Oikawa, Tendou) ☔
When He Falls Asleep on You (Bokuto, Tsukishima, Iwaizumi) ☀️💥
When He’s Sick (Kageyama, Tendou) ☀️💥
When He’s Your Fellow Actor (Iwaizumi, Kuroo, Yamaguchi) ☀️
Yandere Ushijima Headcanons 🔔 🖤 (slight 💋)
Yandere Popular Pairs x Reader (Kageyama-Hinata) 🖤
You Use the Safeword (Kuroo, Kageyama) (Bokuto, Tsukishima) 🌦️
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
📱Fake Texts📱
Break Up Prank (Captain Version 1 2) (Setter Version 1 2) 💥🌦️
Calling Him by His Name (Third Gym Version 1 2) 💥 (slight 💋)
“Can I sit on you(r face)?” (Middle Blocker Version 1 2) 💥💋
He Accidentally Confesses Over Text (Tsukishima Version)
He Sends You a Nude (Ace Version) 💥💋
Telling Him He’s Hot (Setter Version) 💥 (slight 💋)
Waking Him Up to Tell Him You Love Him (Libero and Wing Spiker Version 1 2) 💥
You Accidentally Confess Over Text (Bokuto and Akaashi Version) ☀️💥
You’re Horny (Third Gym Version) 💥
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
💬 Incorrect Quotes 💬
1 2 (3?) 4
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
📝 Drabbles 📝
Nishinoya x Reader w/ unrequited feelings 1
Suna x Reader w/ unrequited feelings on Bday 1
Tsukishima x Sugawara!reader 1
Yandere Daichi/Sugawara 1
Yandere Bokuto 1 2 3 4 5 6
When He Falls Asleep on You (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)
*GIFs not mine*
A/N: Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m back to my same old spiel of “it’s been a while” and “I’m so sorry I haven’t posted in (insert time) days!” Truth is, I just haven’t had the time to write like I know some of y’all haven’t had the time to read. However, I’m happy to be back, even if it is just for this one post. I hope y’all are doing good, and enjoy!
Word count: 1005
Bokuto Koutarou:
While his falling asleep on you is usually an accident (considering it’s much easier to admire you while he’s awake), he certainly always makes the best of the situation.
He nods off and his head slumps to your shoulder and instinctively you want to push him away because you just know him drooling is an inevitability but, no, a sleeping Bokuto is an adorable Bokuto.
He mumbles in his sleep. You’ve learned that from experience.
Black and white hairs tickle your neck but you don’t dare to scratch partly because one of his arms is already wrapped around you locking your own against your sides and partly because waking him would be a crime upon nature.
It only tickles for a few moments anyway because in a matter of seconds he’s curling in deeper, snuggling his forehead against your throat while his legs clamber into your lap.
It’s awkward. It’s hot. It’s not quite a boyfriend cuddling his girlfriend and more so a koala straddling a tree branch.
But it’s a classic Bokuto cuddle-bordering-on-suffocation situation so you settle in for what will be an awkward, hot bus ride.
And eventually you lean your head on his and fall asleep because, eh, why not.
Konoha totally has pictures that he sells to Bokuto later
Tsukishima Kei:
More often than not, when Tsukishima Kei falls asleep on the bus, he goes full turtle.
Blond head perched back on the top of the bus seat, headphones around his neck while his mouth hangs open in a soundless snore. This dude is usually conked.
(He’s learned to sit near the front of the bus lest he risk another session of “What can Kageyama and Tanaka throw into Tsukishima’s mouth?”)
So when his head lolls to the side and rests ever so delicately on the edge of your shoulder, you freeze like a deer in headlights.
This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, so don’t you dare screw it up.
However… his glasses press really hard into the bony part of your shoulder.
At first, you try to suffer through the pain, taking timed, measured breaths in through the nose and out through the mouth.
Then you contemplate humming to distract yourself, but you drop that strategy the instant he twitches on your first note.
It’s too much. Come on, there’s no way there isn’t a bruise there by now!
The constant digging of plastic into your bone is insufferable at this point. You needed to eradicate the problem if this rare event was to continue.
You inch your right hand up ever so slowly, keeping your breathing steady so as to not frighten the flighty creature resting upon you.
You turn your head just a touch and your chin brushes the hair atop his head, but he doesn’t disturb one bit at the slight tousle--thank God.
With two pinching fingers you grab the frames and remove them with the delicate touch of butterfly wings.
Almost there… almost… have them...
Then Tsukishima stirs.
“Screw it.” You yank the glasses away and drop them into your lap before returning your hand to the side of his face.
“YN, what are you-” he cuts off in a grunt as you shove his head back onto your shoulder.
“Shhhh.”
“YN.” His voice is muffled from his face being smushed into your shirt.
“Shhhh. Don’t ruin it.”
“YN-”
“Escape is futile.” You pat his cheek as the rest of his body squirms like a fish caught in a net. “Accept your fate, Tsukki.”
Iwaizumi Hajime:
Sticky. Sweaty. Warm.
You have no doubt that as soon as Iwaizumi wakes up, you will have to peel your shirt from his face like a sticker.
But you figure he deserves the rest. He played a great game and is understandably worn out.
And you’d be damned if you didn’t want to play pillow for him from time to time.
No, he’s not your boyfriend, but you certainly wish he was.
One of his hands fell onto your thigh the second he drifted off and your own hovers over it, an eagle waiting to land.
God, he’s so warm. Like a personal heater. The bus was pretty cold too considering Iwaizumi had the bright idea of leaving your seat’s window open for whatever reason.
The first time you complained about the cold, he offered you his jacket. However, two seconds after his offer your cheeks were burning enough to warm the rest of your body so refused.
And now here you were, almost losing consciousness yourself on account of how comfortable you’d grown in this position.
A nap… surely a nap wouldn’t hurt.
Today’s game had asked for a five a.m. arrival at the school, one seven hour bus ride down to the opponent, and one returning. It was understandable that you were exhausted yourself.
The eagle landed and your drooping eyes slipped closed. Iwaizumi’s hair--so soft--felt like the perfect cushion as you slipped into warm, deep sleep.
The soft pressure on Iwaizumi’s head allowed for a small smile to grow on his face.
Fucking finally.
Just one eye peered open and though he couldn’t see much, your hand resting flat on his just so happened to be the perfect sight.
He waited until your breathing truly evened out before moving, slowly flipping his hand palm up and intertwining your fingers between his.
His eyes began to blur once more and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze before giving in to the tiredness completely, grinning at the soft sigh you released.
Yes. Finally.
I Wanna Build a Snowman (Oikawa x Reader)
*GIF not mine*
Summary: Oikawa just wants to build a snowman on one of the coldest days of the year with his beloved girlfriend. What could go wrong?
A/N: Major fluff. Like...that’s it. That’s the warning. We’ve been getting assloads of snow where I am so I figured why not. Hope you like this domestic fluff!
Word count: 2264
Something cold, soft and insistent hits you in the face.
“YN!... YNNNN!” Oikawa keeps whisper-yelling your name and patting the side of your cheek until you finally gather the energy to crack open an eyelid.
“Tooru,” you yawn, moving to sit up and rub the sleep from your blurred gaze, “whyyy?” The lights of yours and Oikawa’s bedroom are still off but the open curtains of your floor length window allow the white brightness flooding the space to blind you.
Huh, looks like the blizzard warning wasn’t a joke.
The light zaps every ounce of energy right out of you as you struggle to stay conscious and you give in, flopping back despite Oikawa’s whines.
“No, no! YN, come on, let’s go outside!”
“Are you insane?” you mumble into your pillow, rolling over only to be flipped right back.
“Neither of us have any type of clothes equipped for that kind of weather. Just go back to sleep- oof.”
A piece of clothing, pants by the feel of the starchy exterior, thwaps you in the face and incites enough anger inside you to wake you for revenge and nothing more.
“That’s why I bought those last night while I was out!” The bed shifts as Oikawa rises from the bed, giving you a show of skin as he strips off his night clothes and dresses in the newly purchased snow pants and boots.
“I swear to God if you don’t let me go back to sleep I’m to suffocate you with my pillow before sleeping on top of both of you.”
“Well that’s vivid.”
“It’s also very desirable right now.”
Oikawa pouts, zipping up a puffy jacket to his chin before shoving a beanie on his head and dropping back onto the bed next to you. “Come on, YN! I wanna build a snowman!”
“I swear to God if you start singing-”
“Do you wanna build a snowm-mmphf!”
A pillow thwaps Oikawa in the face and you drop back to the bed with a groan. “Fineeee, so long as you shut up and don’t ever sing that song again, I will go outside and build a snowman with you.”
“Oh come on, it’s tradition!”
~~~
Okay, so maybe you weren’t a morning person and perhaps Oikawa had been right. Though the weather may as well have left you feeling stranded naked in the Arctic, passing up the opportunity to build a snowman with your boyfriend on one of the few days both of you had off together would have been a terrible decision.
Feeling like a toddler wrapped in twenty-ply toilet paper, you stumbled down the stairs of the complex and out into the freezing cold of nature. The snow pants and boots Oikawa bought for you sagged just a tad on your hips and you had to constantly readjust them with one gloved hand while the other held firmly onto your boyfriend’s as he led you out into the open space between the building and the parking lot.
Snow still fell in small bundles, settling into your hair and onto Oikawa’s hat, slowly and surely soaking in and freezing all at the same time. The sky was a chilled gray, the sun a distant glowing orb in the sky that could never overpower the precipitating clouds that laid claim on the sky. A wind brushed the stray hairs from your face and bit at your cheeks, bringing with more flakes that settled onto the tips of your lashes effortlessly.
Every footprint you and a grinning Oikawa left behind revealed there was a solid nine inches of snow that crushed the dark green grass underneath. A laugh left your companion as he tugged you farther along, barging through the piles of white that seemed reluctant to move.
“Okay,” Oikawa declared, turning back to you with a pink nose and cheeks as his breaths left puffs in the air. “What should we do first?”
The childlike glimmer of excitement in your eyes made the smile on your face grow full-fledged. Then a devious thought came to your mind. “Well,” you tapped your chin in faux deliberation, pulling your hand out of his to set it on your hip, “I suppose we could…”
Without another word, you pressed both hands on Oikawa’s chest and pushed as hard as possible, letting out a laugh at the split-second betrayed look on his face before his black-coated form disappeared in a cloud of snow.
It took him a second to recover as you went into hysterics, folding your arms around your stomach as you guffawed. Oikawa propped himself up on his elbows and blew a hair out of his face with a pout.
“You’re gonna pay for that.”
And before you knew it, your open-mouthed laughter was interrupted with a choke as snow met your tongue and teeth.
Small clumps of flakes stuck to your forehead and chin as you gasped, trying to wipe away the cold in vain as Oikawa rose from the ground, two more snowballs already rounded off in his hands.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Tooru,” you warned, stepping back and keeping watchful eyes on both of his armed hands.
“Oh, come on, babe.” Oikawa grinned a sly grin that told you you had awoken a beast. “You know I can’t let you off the hook after that.”
And the battle commenced.
Somehow even in the freezing cold you were working up a sweat, ducking and dodging as many snowballs as you could while firing off your own.
Sometimes you would hit Oikawa in his long legs as he dove away from a throw and sometimes he would hit you back in the arms or chest while you hurried to build a fort to protect yourself. At a certain point, both of you had built fortresses that were each a solid three feet high. Oikawa had gone for the simple-yet-classic snow wall tactic while you crafted a small barrier as long as your wingspan that surrounded your front and sides, packing snow on top of solidifying snow while Oikawa occasionally knocked off a solid chunk that required you to handle damage control.
Your teeth began to instinctively chatter as the snow that hit your face melted off and slid down your jacket, soaking into Oikawa’s t-shirt underneath. Every so often you would have to tug your gloves back down after they slid up during your construction efforts, allowing cold clumps to stick to your skin and leave patches of irritated red in their wake.
But you were distracted for just a second too long playing defense and that was all Oikawa needed.
A shadow fell over your work as you began to carve a makeshift window in your fort, punching a hand through the thick wall of snow in order to keep an eye on your enemy as you worked--however, such efforts seemed futile as you slowly turned around to see a towering Oikawa with two armfuls of snow prepped and angled right over your head.
You had been too focused on your own shaky breaths and mutters that you haven’t even heard him army crawling behind you and gathering up an avalanche to bury you under.
“Oh shi-” flumph.
Oikawa tipped his head back and released a maniacal laugh as snow piled in your lap and atop your head, making you look like the snowman he’d wanted to build this morning.
“Looks like I’ve won this war, YN,” he nodded to himself, dusting off his white-sprinkled blue pants and puffy jacket. “Though, to be fair, it was well fought. You must’ve just gotten too distracted by your opponent’s dazzling looks to notice he’d already trapped you in a corner, and nobody can blame you. I guess I’m just too-AGH!”
In two seconds you went from partial abominable snowman on the frozen ground to tackling Oikawa to the ground and straddling his chest, dropping two handfuls of snow into his face as he screeched.
“What were you saying about victory, Tooru?” you sniggered, stealing the hat right off his head and pressing it onto your own. “Distracted opponent and whatnot? Kinda makes me wonder who really won this…”
Oikawa coughed up a snowball as you used all your weight to roll off him and settle onto the floor next to him, just far enough away that you could spread your arms up over your head and down back to your side. Just as you worked to spread your legs and arms in synchronization to complete your snow angel, two folded arms dropped onto your stomach before a head plopped on top relaxedly, forcing a large cloud of air out of your mouth.
“I don’t know, babe,” Oikawa mumbled, adjusting right on top of you so he could lean over and draw patterns into the snow with a single finger right next to your other side. Each time he shifted, a bony elbow dug even harder into your stomach, forcing noises out of your mouth no different from the choking sounds of a floundering seal. “I really think we could call it a tie right here.”
With one dazzling smile sent your way, Oikawa moved so he was laying entirely on top of you, legs tangling with yours and all before he moved to straddle your hips. “Never,” you choked out, helplessly wiggling underneath him. “Ugh, get off me fatass.”
“Hey! I’ve been watching my weight before the season!” He pressed a finger to your forehead after dodging every hand you tried to bat him away with. “I’ll have you know this is all muscle, but I don’t believe you need such proof after last night.”
You gagged at the eyebrows he waggled at you before mustering enough energy to roll onto your stomach right underneath him and army crawl out, finally free from his weight. “Don’t be such a perv.” You rolled your eyes, standing up and staring down at him with your arms akimbo.
Oikawa’s lips curled up into a smirk as he rose to his feet, approaching you with eyes narrowed enough to have you waiting for his next words. “You know, you weren’t this shy last night either.”
“Shut up!” You blamed the pink tint of your cheeks on the cold and smacked his arm, spinning away when he yelped in surprise.
“Hey!” When you kept your back to him, he huffed out a sigh and made his way closer to you, so close his entire body was pressed against you. Two arms slithered around your waist and a freezing nose traced a path up along the side of your exposed throat.
When you relaxed into his hold and leaned your head away to allow him more room to tease, Oikawa hummed in thought and pressed a kiss to the skin, hands tightening on your hips.
“Let’s go back inside, baby,” he murmured, peppering more and more pecks along your skin until he had enough of the back-to-front issue and spun you around, pressing his forehead against yours. Both of your puffs of air now mingled together as he spoke, his brown eyes trailing from your warm gaze to your red cheeks to the plump lips your tongue just couldn’t seem to leave alone. “We need to do something to… warm up.”
The innocence that fell over your face, no matter how fake, made his jaw clench and his body grow still.
“But I thought you wanted to build a snowman?”
~~~
You shivered under the mounds of blankets on the bed, wearing nothing but the soaked hat on your head as Oikawa entered the room with only a sheet covering his bare form. Two steaming cups of hot chocolate piled high with marshmallows were held in his hands, one of which he held out to you after shutting the door to the bedroom and dimming the lights.
The sun outside was long gone, instead leaving the moon to shine and reflect off the layers of snow that you and Oikawa had ruffled up hours earlier.
You accepted the mug with a soft smile and scooted over, making room as Oikawa shrugged off the blanket completely, leaving himself uncovered to the cold still circling in the room.
“As much as I like your staring, YN, a wolf whistle is always appreciated every now and then.”
You only wiggled your brows and blew a kiss at him over your mug, giggling when he gawked and muttered “Perv” under his breath.
Oikawa wasted no time grabbing his own mug off the nightstand, settling in beside you with an arm wrapped around your hips to keep you curled into his side. As the movie began, he let out a long sigh and pressed two marshmallow-flavored lips to your forehead, grinning when you nuzzled in closer.
“Ugh, Frozen? Really?”
“Shhh,” Oikawa whispered. “You’re gonna miss the song.” You could only roll your eyes and lay your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and soft humming to the music.
And as “Do You Wanna Build a Snowman” faintly played through the shining window of your apartment, two snowmen sitting just outside with pebbles for eyes and carrots for noses froze and solidified under the light of the stars, their makeshift twig arms still holding hands.
Look Me in the Eyes (Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader)
*GIF not mine*
Summary: 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.
A/N: pfft half yall don’t read this anyway so imma just say rooster’s hot, oreosmama out *drops mic*
Word count: 3345
It’s not the pervading scent of antiseptic and boredom that has carved its way into your skin, nestling deep into the creases of your brow and your sneering upper lip—
It’s his unflinching gaze.
The lieutenant hovering over you, with a spoonful of green, gelatinous “dinner” posed over your lips, mumbles, “Open the hatch, the F-18 needs to land.”
He’s a staunchly built man ornamented in the same naval jacket he’d been wearing when you first came-to in the hospital room, his lofty shoulders embellished in unfamiliar patches. Over the last two days, most of which have consisted of him lording himself over you or sitting back in the chair beside your bed, his five o’clock shadow has thickened, and the wrinkles underneath his teasing eyes darkened a shade.
The F-18 bumps against your sneer, and he chortles to himself.
You know why you’re here.
Well, sort of.
You know that it must’ve hurt. Like a falling-unconscious-due-to-pain kind of hurt. Black and blue splotches paint your temple and upper left cheek, and each time you force a smile, it aches. The rest of your body looks the same. In the first shower you’d been allowed, you twisted and turned as much as your burning abdomen could handle and had come to the conclusion that you were glad you didn’t remember much of what had happened.
The only real issue was that you didn’t remember much of anything.
The story you had been told was haphazardly crafted, not unlike if a toddler had drawn a house with crayons and passed it to you, insisting it looked exactly like the one you lived in.
It goes something like this: you were flying your jet when the engine stalled, and when you ejected, your head smacked against the windshield. You were lucky—you were unconscious when you had crumpled in on yourself, snapping five of your ribs like pencils, and when you’d landed on the ground, face in the dirt—you were so, so lucky.
But the lieutenant says differently.
When he found you, you were awake. You were echoing his name into the stagnant desert air, screaming and sobbing in ways that still keep him up at night.
You know because he sleeps with folded arms on the edge of your mattress, and he rattles the metal skeleton each time he flinches. And the times when he thinks you’re too buried in exhaustion and slumber, his hand finds yours, fingertips light as air against your skin.
These are the only times the lieutenant bares that part of himself to you.
In the mornings, when you can look him in the eyes and see the guilt buried underneath, he winces a smile onto his lips and asks if you remember anything yet.
You don't.
And he winces again. “Back to the drawing board, huh?”
The lieutenant is a nice-enough man when he wants to be. The only issue is that he doesn’t seem to want to be.
“Tell me your name,” you snipe, dangling over the precipice of flinging Jell-O across the room.
This is a game he never wants to play, despite how often he wins. He has the whole naval base’s hospital staff refer to him as Sir or Lieutenant-no-last-name, and each time you ask, he’ll give you the same response.
“You know my name.”
You don't. He’s a complete stranger. He can hold you hand and feed you Jell-O and help you hobble to the bathroom; he can brush the hair from your sweat-crusted face in the mornings and, on some rare occasions where he thinks he’s woken up before you, he’ll graze a feather-soft kiss on your bruised temple.
And you still haven't got a clue.
Because whoever the lieutenant is, the tight grip he has on your heart is completely foreign to you. It’s a grip that says you and him aren’t just something definable—you were a we in this life; the pair of you have formed a way of living in tandem, your own intrinsic tango to which nobody else knows the steps. It’s not just like or a passing fancy. It’s not just hot static running through veins.
This is fully fledged; this is oxygen now. The rise and fall of your chest is the rise and fall of his. The absence of it must be suffocating.
So you don't know why he doesn’t like this game. He makes a question-answer into a back-and-forth, and then he winds and winds you up until you’re ready to snap.
It’s not fair. God, it’s not fair. You deserve to know his name. Doesn’t he know it’s not just a tickle in the back of your mind anymore? If he was the one whose name you were screaming, didn’t you deserve to know what it was?
“Why do you keep doing this?”
You watch his lips purse, the color bleeding out of them and into pink patches on his neck and cheeks. The spoon rattles against the tray, and the glob of green wavers in its curve. He refuses to hold your gaze like always. Self-inflicted torment disguises itself as burnt-sienna irises. The life you’ve forgotten is bowing his shoulders, and your crash, no matter the fact that he saved you, is eating away at him.
Then the lieutenant smiles, in the fractured way—the way someone might laugh at a funeral.
“Because knowing my name wouldn’t help you. You never called me by it, anyway.”
This, oh God—this is the closest you’ve ever gotten, and you’re still wading in the darkness. A name you’d never even call him by, what a wonder that does to your psyche.
A name was a start; it was a first impression. There was a lot in a name.
So you’d never called him by his name… so what?
So what, only lovers knew each other by more than a name? So what, he never called you by yours? So what, you didn’t want to ever call him by his name, never felt the urge, but felt it was rather proper considering you didn’t know what to call him at all?
He keeps you doggy-paddling for it.
The hospital room is polluted with silence for the rest of the night. Slowly, you finish the Jell-O as he sits back in his chair, watching, yet not quite seeing you. You missed when his staring felt like a buzzing fly. Now it’s a thunderstorm hanging over you, foggy and dampened, and you’re struck every few seconds with a shiver.
He doesn’t reach out for your hand when you pretend you’ve fallen asleep. Twenty minutes past lights out, he stands and heads into the bathroom, slowly creaking the door closed and locking it before the shower faucet turns on and stays on for a long, long time.
Where his hand should be is where he laid his jacket, one sewn patch erroneously rough against your palm. With another glance at the light underneath the bathroom door, you haul the leather jacket up into your lap, tracing the ridges and folds. You trails your fingertips along the jacket, searching for… something. Anything.
Cold metal, a zipper slips underneath your fingers, and you sit up straighter despite the outcry of pain in your ribs.
A pocket, and inside is a small plastic card—his ID.
That, and a small, velvet box.
No…
No, you won’t open it.
No, no, because he shouldn’t even have that here.
Why—dear God—why did he have that here?
It’s not for you. That’s for sure. You don’t even want to open it. No.
It’s not yours. It’s not yours to have, especially since he hasn’t offered it to you, and it’s not yours to wear, and it’s not yours to look at, to watch, iridescent, crystal devotion reflecting the moonlight from the room’s lone window.
But when you lift the cover and curse the stars that the man whose name you don’t even know knows you so well, knows how beautiful it is in your eyes, and even worse, how well it fits on your finger, you know it’s yours.
Well, not yours.
It’s hers. The one before the crash’s.
That’s her ring on your finger, and that’s her lieutenant grieving in the bathroom.
This is her life, not yours. All you own anymore is the absence pulsing in your chest.
You own the spasms in your veins, the brief and lasting panic of who am I, really?, the deficiency of life and past and love; the frail hold on this reality, on that man, on this ring.
The rest is not yours, so you should let it go.
Then, ideally, you should be able to float away, free from these junctions to a girl you don’t know. The man who loves her loves your face. He loves your body, and your voice, and each of the words falling from your lips, perhaps in the wrong order, yes, but he’ll rearrange them in his mind so that it matches hers.
Ideally.
Ideally, it’s not this drowning feeling, a weight like a hand pressing hard against your chest, shoving you deeper and deeper under the current. She’s the one who breathes, not you. You don’t need to breathe. You’re an accident in this world.
The I.D. slips from your grasp and falls to the floor.
You’ve read it. You saw the name, the rank, the naval symbol. In the dim moonlight and the single glowing strip underneath the bathroom door, his not-really-a-smile smiles up at you from the vinyl floor.
And now you see it, chrome duct tape peeling off the jagged stitches of a patch, the one over his heart. Another of his games: his missing call sign.
It… fits him. Strangely enough.
Is this what you called him?
The hospital room floods with a subdued yellow light carried out by the steam of the lieutenant’s shower. He emerges with a towel wrapped around his lower body, a sheen of wet on his cheeks you’re not certain was caused by the shower.
Like you, this is his third shower in this room, but unlike him, he’s not wearing a smirk when he exits, bare feet padding along the cold tiles. He doesn’t spare you a glance while he pilfers through his black duffle bag, the one seated on the only other guest chair in the room—the one that never moves.
Maybe it was a good thing he didn’t look, because you hadn’t thought to take off the ring. It was a plan as half-baked as when you’d first decided to put it on. Some barbaric, frenzied part of you, the same one that had slipped it on and hugged it close to your heart, refused to yank it off. It was another you—not her nor you, but a new one that had fallen in love with him, Rooster, without memory or qualms, the one that had no issue with him lingering in every corner of your mind; no, in fact, she preferred it.
You don’t listen to her when the lieutenant pivots back to face you, a fresh pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and the rest sourced from the duffel bag in tow, one fist curled into his towel at his waist. His eyes land on yours, and your fingers slicken with the sweat of your palms, tremble like the thumps beneath your ribcage.
At the worst moment possible, you notice, in the hazy yellow light of 10:07 PM, that Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw’s eyes are achingly akin to whiskey. It’s the dark, thick kind that coats your tongue and hits you five seconds after you sip it like a freight train; heady, terribly intoxicating, and in large doses, coaxes out the worst side of yourself at an even worse moment.
The ring clinks against the bed’s metal framework before shuddering against the tile floor, and his eyes leave yours to watch it rattle. The skin of your left ring finger burns from the swift twisting and tugging you’d employed in a state of tipsy panic—your plan had been to slip the ring unnoticed beneath his leather jacket, the same place you’d stuffed the velvet box.
A breath tears itself out of the lieutenant’s chest. Tan skin rises and falls once, and his grip goes white-knuckle on his towel.
Then he pads back toward the bathroom without a word and disappears behind the slammed door. Somehow, in some terrible way, it is even harder to breathe with him not in the room after that.
But he bursts through the door a second later, completely negligent of the violent pacing of your heart, donned in clothes wrinkled and stretched in odd places from frantic dressing. He covers the distance with three long strides and slackens back into the plastic hospital chair, the heavy creases under his eyes never having looked so deep-seated.
You see it now. The damage this whole experience has done to him. He’s been hollowed out, rigorously gutted to the point that one last revelation might finally crack him in half and let the despair pour out.
You’re afraid to tell him all that you don’t know. That even though you had slid that ring on and off your finger, you still don’t know him. But, God, you want to tell him that you love him, despite knowing it won’t be enough. It’s not even enough to you, and it’s all that you have.
Usually, he wears this sheen layer of tenderness over his face; it slips off every night when you close your eyes, and he smooths it back on in the mornings in the mirror. Some days he layers it on so thick you never even notice the grief hidden underneath.
It must have gotten too heavy to bear.
The silence hangs just as heavy. He runs both hands down his face, pressing hard enough that his skin emerges pink, and folds his hands, knocking them against his lips. Veins in his eyes grow redder by the second, and your heart begins a slow crawl up your throat at the watery levels of his eyelines, waiting to spill. The ring sits on the floor untouched.
“Do you,” he faltered, clearing his throat. “Do you… remember anything?”
He’s looking at you so intensely that your skin is searing. Shame washes over you, grasping your shoulders and burying you deeply into its chest. You want to cry.
“Nothing.”
The lieutenant stares at you a second longer, stretching it out until you’re trembling. Then he looks away, down, before reaching and retrieving the ring from the ground. He observes it for just a second, the way it glimmers in night’s imperfect lighting, and his eyes squeeze shut.
Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, you’ve learned, will draw things out until the perfect moment has come. He will wait until the ache swells and culminates, with a tolerance so inexhaustible you wonder if, in all your time loving him, you ever bothered to wait up. He’s noticed how the darkness has swallowed both of you wholly, and only now does he offer reprieve.
Bradley tells you your name.
And he tells you that he’s been in love with you since the first second he saw you.
He tells you that he can’t bear the thought of losing all that you’d had, and that his world had been crumbling apart before his own goddamned eyes ever since your jet’s engine had sputtered and died. He tells you that he’s so, so fucking sorry he couldn’t save you, sorry that your life ever got entangled so messily with his in the first place, and even more sorry that he’s so useless to help you find your way back, that you can’t seem to find your way back to him.
And when you began to cry, he bolted up from his seat and held you, whispering apologies into your hair, and you cried a little harder, because you had found your way back to him, but he wouldn’t ever care, because it wasn’t the same path you’d taken before.
You cry because it hurts to hold him, and even more because it hurts him to hold you. You want all of the I-love-yous he’s ever said to be for you, and you want that damned ring too.
You want that goddamn ring on your finger right now because he’d promised you that it would be yours. That first moment he’d ever seen you, stumbling drunk in a crowded Hard Deck and spilling his beer half on his Hawaiian shirt, half on yours, that he’d make up for it by putting a spendy ring on your little finger right there, despite not actually knowing where right there was. The only one I’ll ever buy, he’d hiccuped, it’ll be yours, darlin’.
“Rooster,” you croaked into his chest. “Roo.”
A provoked sob tore from your throat, your arms and ribs aching from how tightly you clung to him, even after he froze. You surfaced from the curve of his shoulder, hands sliding past his sides, over his thrumming chest, and up to cradle his damp jawline before drawing his face down to yours. He mumbled your name, whiskey eyes potent as ever, and you smothered the rest of his question against your lips.
You couldn’t tell who was crying anymore. Your cheeks’ dampness was his, just the same as his lips pressed against yours so harshly, so numbingly you couldn’t quite tell where yours ended and his began. It must have been somewhere close to where his tongue met yours, making up for lost time as he fought hard and fiercely for everything he’d been starved of for three, going on four, unbearable days. His hands left their leverage against the bed and latched onto your hips, rough fingertips familiarly caressing the soft slopes of your sides, and when you offered an airy moan to him, he accepted eagerly with a tightening grip.
You separated from him with a small cry, ribs twinging. Bradley pulled away in horror, and his dilated pupils struggled to sober up to join. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, larger hands now grappling at yours and trying to remove your grasp. “You need—ice, I’ll go get you some ice–”
“Roo, no,” you mumbled, refusing to let go of him.
He paused, and his body shivered under your touch. The familiarity of his name from your mouth seemed as comforting to him as it was to you. His lips twitched and curled, and he breathed a small sigh. The hard lines of his face grew tender as he slid his hands down to your wrists, turning and pressing a kiss to each palm.
His heart jumped and throbbed against your fingertips, and you had no doubt he could feel the same from yours. The heat of his damp cheeks had grown infinitely warmer under your touch, and for all the nights you’d spent with just a grasp on his hand, the change was more and more welcome.
“Don’t leave me again,” he pleaded against the skin of your palm, voice thick and bittersweet, like honey seeping through your ears. “I don’t think I can handle that again.”
He steeled himself against your mattress with one hand when you tugged his forehead down against yours, lips just whispering against one another. You smiled.
“Was it all the Jell-O that did you in, or…?”
“Yeah, actually,” he nodded, tongue pressed against his cheek. “It was. I hope you know we’re never having Jell-O in our house ever again.”
“Not even lime?”
“Especially lime.”
You huffed, “Fine.” You pulled away, despite how desperate Bradley was to follow you. He let you fall back against the pillows with your hand still in his grasp, and he settled onto the edge of the mattress, letting his spare hand find home in the pliant skin of your thigh. Your eyes rose to the ceiling. “But it’ll cost you.”
Soft lips brushed the back of your left hand before cold metal slipped around your finger. “One of these?”
“Exactly.”
Bradley hummed. “Gladly.”
It would be interesting to see Osamu try to turn his life back around, come to terms with Atsumu's death and be his own person again. BUT!!! Please don't feel pressured to write a part 2 if you don't feel like it/don't want too 🥺 I was just genuinely curious if a part 2 was possible so I sent an ask. You're already giving us so much amazing content and I don't want you to burn yourself out and do any request that you don't like 🥺❣
Thank you, your words mean a lot more than you know🙏 And I’m thankful I’m surrounded by such kind people like you on here💜💜
I’ll definitely consider making a part 2 for Lapse in Judgement, as I’m also kind of interested in where I could take Osamu’s character without Atsumu by his side. The idea has definitely been noted :)
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.
Kidnappers and Keepers (Todoroki x Reader/Soulmate AU)
*GIF not mine*
Summary: You get kidnapped by a douchebag named “Clarence.” Nothing tops that. Well, except for your dreamboat of a soulmate. Now, he’s a keeper right there.
A/N: It’s five a.m. What is sleep. Please love this because this puppy took me ages of procrastination, but I really liked my one idea at the end of the story. I kinda wrote this backwards and on two separate days, so that could explain why it seems a little different in some parts. Please enjoy!
Word count: 3309
Does anyone remember when Nutella was all the rage? Man, those were the good old days. It was a peaceful time. Every story on Wattpad was about a romantic kidnapping, usually involving a werewolf or two. One Direction spoke to every thirteen-year-old on a spiritual level, and all earbuds were connected to cords attached to phones.
It was also around the time the villain in front of you began his story. Oh wait, no, that was only twenty minutes ago. Damn, it’s crazy how time can fly some days but then crawl by slower than a slug the next. Anyways, what was this guy talking about? Oh yeah, he was monologuing his evil plan while you were stuck on the grimy floor of a dark warehouse. He had snatched you off the street as a hostage and handcuffed you behind your back to a leaking pipe, forcing you to sit and listen to him blab. What a drag.
“And then we will rule the world!” The villain --what was his name again?-- looked at you expectantly.
“Huh?” He groaned in exasperation.
“Did you even hear a single word I said?!”
“No. Did you know your fly was open?” The villain, a dirt-covered twenty-something-year-old in shady, black apparel, glared at you from under the flickering light in the large room. You, on the other hand, stared at the ceiling distractedly while flicking your teeth with your tongue. Note to self: next time you get kidnapped, don’t eat popcorn that day. Stupid kernels.
“Can’t you take anything seriously?” He jabbed, although his hands discreetly checked his pants, only to burn red when he remembered there was no zipper. You snicker under your breath. Got ‘em. “Ugh, you know what?!” He suddenly exploded, approaching you with a roll of duct tape. “I’m tired of you.” The piece he ripped off was too small to stick well to your face, but you didn’t have the energy to tell him. You poked out your tongue between your lips before his sweaty hands patted down the adhesive, sliding it up and over your top lip to remove the sticky binding from your face. He stepped away and turned his back to you, whipping out his phone.
“Now that that’s done, where the hell are they?” the guy muttered, tapping away. You shifted uncomfortably on the cement floor, your butt growing numb. At this point, the piece of tape now dangled awkwardly from your chin. I’ve always wondered what a goatee was like.
“Where’s who?” you wondered. The villain whipped around to stare at you in shock.
“How the- how did you- why are you-... what?” You raised a brow at his stammers.
“Shoot for a bigger piece next time, fella. Or try something stronger.” You yawn before cracking your neck. “Have you considered super glue?” The door to your right suddenly crashed open. Well just barge right in, why don’t you.
“Clarence, did you get the girl?” Oh, now that’s just mean. Who names their child “Clarence”? You would turn to crime too if you had that name.
“Yes, sir.” The new guys who just joined the party were villains you had never seen before. One wasn’t even human, per se, just a dark blob surrounded by a silhouette of purple. The other was covered completely in a black cloak so you couldn’t view anything of their figure or face. Not even when they approached you with an outstretched hand.
“Do not be afraid, this won’t hurt a bit.” Pshh, like you were going to trust that load. Your body trembled and your feet scrambled against the floor pushing yourself back and away. Sadly, you were stopped by the pipe behind you. So this is how I die. I’ll never get to meet my soulmate. Or unlodge that stupid-ass kernel in my back tooth. “I’m not going to kill you.” Lyin’ ass. “We just need you as bait.” He had the deep voice of evil.
“No thanks,” you hiss.
“I wasn’t asking.” Could you, though? It’d be more polite. You didn’t have time to flinch away before his hand grasped your face. Like full-on palmed that bitch like a dad inspecting a melon at Walmart. What.
“Umm, whatcha doin’ there, budd-” before you could finish, a bright pain flashed behind your eyes. You whimpered as white noise rang in your ears, and your body began to convulse violently. Mind-control. That’s what it was. And from what you could tell, this guy had better control over your thoughts than you ever did. It felt like someone had dug their fingernails into your brain, and you abruptly spoke without your own volition.
“She’s under my control.” The voice scraped at your throat, but it still sounded like you. Your body stopped its spasms and froze. You were now in the passenger seat of your own body, hijacked like a computer. People and their quirks these days. Whatever happened to the classic super strength? The man released your face and stood up, stepping back to join his wispy companion while he gestured towards you. Following the action, Clarence --seriously, this poor guy-- uncuffed you from the pipe and you forcefully stood on two numb, shaky legs.
“We’ll use her to distract the heroes before we attack.” The cloaked man spoke, features still shadowed by his hood.
“How do they know to come here?” your pitiful kidnapper asked. He seemed new to this kind of job; his voice had been shaky and unsure while he nervously wrung his hands.
“We sent the video of you snatching her to their agency.” Poor guy became the scapegoat. But wait, the agency? Oh crap.
Here’s a little history lesson: before you were attacked today, you would occasionally help out at Endeavor’s Hero Agency. One day, about six or seven months ago, you had found a worker of theirs severely injured from a villain. After healing them with your quirk, you had been offered a job at the office. However, you had to deny it because, well, you were only in high school. On the other hand, ever since that day the worker stayed in touch with you, every once in a while calling you for help if anyone was ever injured on a mission. Healing them made you feel like a hero, so you didn’t stop. But now today, you were seriously regretting getting involved with them. This sucked bad.
“They’ll come,” the dark cloud man assured, “they value the girl.” Aww, if you were in control of your body so you could blush and smack his arm bashfully. However, right now you were pissed, and the only smacking you wanted to do was that cloak guy’s head against that moldy pipe over there. This sucks major- A noise interrupts your mental rant. It was a clang outside, like someone had kicked a trash can. Nonetheless, the villains in the room all rushed to the shadiest part of the warehouse, taking cover behind large boxes.
###
Shouto’s words had always been… less than reassuring.
Sorry about earlier, I was being mind-controlled by that cloaky fella over there. My name’s YN.
They were even more unsettling when an agent of his father’s called him and asked if he had ever seen a “YN.”
“No…”
“Oh, well if you do, please let us know. She was kidnapped a couple hours ago, and we could really use your help right now.” Now that he thought about it, Shouto did distantly remember the name floating around the agency once or twice when he had temped there.
“Okay, I will.” He hung up the phone and continued down the street, hands coldly shoved in his pockets while he made his way home. The task was easy until he heard yells coming from within the abandoned warehouse next to him. What the hell?
“Todoroki!” A familiar voice shouted from behind him. The bicolored man slowly turned to see two of his classmates approaching, one waving erratically at him.
“What are you doing out here?” Midoriya asked.
“I just felt like walking around. What about you?” More shouts came from inside the building next to them just as the green-haired boy was about to respond.
“What was that?” Iida stares curiously into the alleyway, eyes catching on a shady-looking door that led into the warehouse. “We must check it out,” the class rep declares before approaching the entrance. The other two follow him with furrowed brows, both concerned and unsure at the same time. A loud noise rattles from within the alleyway.
“Sorry.” Midoriya shyly steps away from a metal trash can and inches it away with his foot. The can’s cover falls off with the movement and crashes onto the ground. Midoriya’s face is not unlike a traffic signal at this point, glowing bright red.
Iida shakes his head before pushing open the doorway, entering the dim, moldy stash house.
###
What was that one sentence that has like all the letters in the English alphabet in it? It was about a fox and a dog… whatever. You were bored. And technically mindless. Sort of. You couldn’t do or say anything when three boys your age entered the nasty ass room you were in, and your heart couldn’t even skip a beat when your eyes landed on that one dreamboat. Do you think he purposely dyes his hair like that? I dig it.
“...you YN?” Oh crap, you missed like half of that, sorry dreamboat.
“Yeah, but you guys are too late. The villains left that way, through the window over there.” The two-toned hair man glanced down at his wrist with confused eyes in your peripheral vision, but the villain controlling your body made no note. Then he gestured to his friends to follow him to the boxes. Dumbass dreamboat.
It was like watching a horror movie. The audience already knew where the murderers were, but the attractive protagonists- they’re always attractive. No ugly person ever gets hunted down, and that’s a fact- just can’t hear your annoyed screaming at the TV.
They’re hiding behind the- dammit. The whole room just got ten times more rowdy, and suddenly you were in control of your own body again. Must be how Cloak Man’s quirk works. Can’t fight and mind-control at the same time. At least God is fair.
Grunts, exclamations and whooshes all sound behind you while you huddle in a corner, shaking and hugging yourself until the fighting ends.
“Here, call my father and tell him to come!” It’s the pretty boy, and your eyes widen at his words before a phone slides on the ground over to you. He returns to the battle in hand-to-hand combat with Clarence, who doesn’t put up much of a fight after your soulmate-- holy shit-- turns one arm into a popsicle and the other into a flaming torch. Hot damn. Hehe, I’m funny- not the time YN! You shake yourself out of it and scramble to the phone, glancing back up to watch the fight while pressing the call button on the open contact. A wave of heat fills the room as your soulmate uses his quirk to roast that one cloaked bastard, and you curl even further into the dusty half of the warehouse you’re hiding in.
“Pick up, pick up, pick up- hello?” The person you called is breathing heavily over the line.
“This isn’t Shouto, who is this?” It sounds vaguely familiar, but you don’t take the time to mull over the fact.
“This is YN YLN and I’m in a warehouse off the main street in town. We could really use some cops or something over here!”
“YN? Shouto found you?” Aww, your soulmate told his father about you, how cute!
“Yes, please hurry!” A sudden flame flashes directly in front of you, almost singeing your eyebrows away. The phone flies out of your hand- no idea how that happened- while you scream in terror, and your soulmate shouts back a “Sorry!”
“Sorry my ass,” you grumble before army-crawling back over to his yeeted technology. The screen is cracked and dark. Now it was your turn for a half-assed apology, but “Shouto” seemed rather occupied at the moment. Speaking of him, you look back down at your soulmark and run your trembling fingers over the words. When you first got them, you thought you were destined to be with a dada’s boy. You predicted you would meet him in the park and he would throw a phone at you, too nervous to be alone without his father while he squealed out those words.
So, even though your current situation was less than desirable, you were kinda thankful. At least he needed you to call his dad for a badass reason, and not an excited, “gotta show my dad this” reason.
The door next to you slammed open and you screamed in fright once more, only to pause at the sight. Endeavor? Ohhh. The hot quirk your soulmate had suddenly made a million times more sense. The pro-hero wasn’t alone, and he stormed in with numerous other agents to take out your kidnappers.
The dark blob man disappeared into thin air when they entered the room, leaving his two villain friends to get restrained and captured by the new heroes. My guy fucking dipped. Candy-ass.
Hesitantly, you stood and approached your soulmate. He was watching Clarence and Cloak Man get tied up when you tapped his shoulder, gaining his attention instantly. You began to rub your own fingers together when he made eye-contact with you, and fended off the urge to touch the mark on his face. Just as you open your mouth to speak, your mind goes blank. Wow, so not helpful. Your soulmate raises his eyebrows at you, waiting patiently while you awkwardly bite your lip and clear your throat. After that, the words crawl their way right out of you.
“Sorry about earlier, I was being mind-controlled by that cloaky fella over there. My name’s YN.”
Shouto is silent for a second while one hand swiftly covers the wrist of the other. Maybe it had burned for you earlier, but you had been too distracted to- Oh hello there. Yep, that’s a’ tingling all right. You copy his action and hiss at the feeling. It wasn’t unpleasant, but a sudden hotness on your wrist tends to freak you out once in a while.
“My name is Shouto Todoroki. It’s nice to meet you.” Oh god, he was adorable. Like an adorable, little well-behaved puppy. You were totally going to ruin that pleasantness for him one day. He’s just gonna walk in on you cussing out your own foot and it’ll go shjoop right out of him.
“You too,” you mumble distractedly. “Or me too! Or… umm, yes, it’s nice to meet you too.” Ok, YN, what the hell was that? “Anyways…” This is a deesaster. “I have a quirk.” Yep, it’s over.
“Okay....” He looks thoroughly confused. He might want to get used to that feeling around you. “Me too, I guess?” You want to smack yourself upside the head.
“I’m sorry. I said that weird. Actually, I didn’t even say it.” He looks so lost. “I have a healing quirk, and you just got into a fight.” There we go, now you got him. He nods his head understandingly.
“Oh okay, so you’re offering to heal me.” Great job, Watson.
“Yeah.” Your cheeks are so red at this point that they hurt. He holds out his scraped hands towards you and gives you a gentle smile.
“Work your magic.”
###
“We could use someone like you at UA.”
After you had healed his wounds the first day you met, Shouto encouraged you to talk to the admissions office there. He had even asked his dad to recommend they give you a spot, and it worked. You didn’t know how, but you just counted your blessings and moved on.
Now, you sat as a student assistant to Recovery Girl, with your very own dorm and everything. You attended the normal classes UA offered and worked during lunch and after school with the nurse to heal the injured and sick. It was usually the injured, and it was usually Shouto’s friend Midoriya. At a certain point, you didn’t care to ask what he had done, you just healed him and sent him on his way.
“There you go, greeny.” You patted his freshly healed arm. “Now if you would stop hurting yourself, I really wouldn’t mind.” Your eyes strayed from his worn-out form to the new one, leaning in the doorway with crossed arms. Dreamboat.
“I know, YN, I want that too. Thanks again, though!” The hero-in-training cheered right up at the prospect of getting to leave and bid you adieu, greeting Todoroki before disappearing into the hall.
“Hi.” Your soulmate stepped into the room with a soft smile, laying a kiss on your cheek before sitting in the patient’s bed across from your spinny chair.
“Well, hello to you too.” You beam at him with curious eyes. “You seem more chipper than usual, what’s up?”
“I just... really wanted to see you,” he admits apprehensively, staring at the posters on Recovery Girl’s walls to avoid looking at you. Your chest preens with happiness and you stand up to join him on the bed.
“I wanted to see you too.” You slump down next to him and lay your head on his shoulder, intertwining your fingers with his own on your lap. The room stays silent while you both bask in the warmth of each other’s presence, but Todoroki surprisingly decides to break the silence.
“So,” he pulls his head off yours and turns to face you, “have you come up with a hero name yet?” Your body begins to wiggle excitedly and you whirl around to face him, now sitting crossed-legged on the bed and bouncing your knees up and down anxiously.
“Yes I did!” His eyes sparkle at your excitement and he laughs softly.
“Well?”
“Say hello to… wait for it,” he rolls his eyes at your actions while you drumroll against your own thighs, “Health Girl!”
Todoroki grows apprehensive and his smile falls slightly. Your own face grows smug and you poke him in the side playfully. “I’m just kidding, I’m not that lame.”
“You sure?” Your eyes widen. He has a sarcasm button now?
“Woah, mister, you’re learning too much from me. You might wanna stop that before you start yelling at your phone for dropping itself.” (Yeah, that’s happened before. But to be fair, your phone was a dumbass bitch.)
Your heart glows with pride when he releases a small, rare chuckle. The Shuckle. Damn, you must be really special to get that treatment. Well you better be, with all that ‘soulmates for life’ crap dangling over your head.
“No really, I actually did come up with a good name.”
“All right, tell me.”
Here’s the thing, your quirk wasn’t exactly healing people, it was more of speeding up their own body’s cellular processes when you got close enough. So you had the perfect name. At least, you hoped you did. Oh crap, what if it was terrible?
“What about... ‘Enzyma’?” you suggest nervously, staring down into your lap and rubbing your fingers against each other. Arms wrap themselves around your hips and tug you closer to their owner as a pair of lips press against your forehead. Todoroki stares lovingly into your eyes after your own arms reach up to wrap around his neck, melting into his embrace.
“It’s perfect.”
So was he.
So uh heheh funny story
I started this blog (much like the others) when the quarantine hit. Obviously, that’s dying out now, and life is returning to normal. School has started back up, jobs are starting to rehire, and especially in my personal life, everything is back to a full churn.
I may not be the most committed writer of a blog on tumblr, but I wanted you all to know that I will do my best to write when I can. This may be once a week, or maybe not even for months. I will try to bust out my requests when I have the time, but from now on, I guess you could say this blog is “on hiatus.” Thank you all for the support I’ve gained in the recent months, and I wish you all good luck in returning to your normal lives💜💜
-Oreosmama ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ ∫
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18+, minors dnrI write sometimes ig maybe, we’ll see🫠Masterlist . . . . . . Side BlogRequests? What requests?
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