Pairing: Kuroo x Bokuto’s sister (you)
Characters:Kuroo Tetsurō, Bokuto Kōtarō
Rating:NSFW
Content:facial, manhandling, subspace, marking, overstimulation, praising, slight footjob 

Oh boy here we go, part 3 of my main hoe Kuroo. Please read both Part 1andPart 2 if you haven’t already so you can understand the context x 
Anyways, I hope you guys like the final part! This was a really fun series to write!

We’ve been through this twice already so y’all get the gist. Both Kuroo and Bokuto are in their third years and are 18 :)

Dinner is just as it usually would be. The two boys chatting away about spikes, receives and anything volleyball related. Frankly, you find it quite amazing that Kuroo can act so nonchalant even after joining you in the shower just a few hours ago. His poker face is one you unfortunately can’t return. Your eyes remain studying your plate of food as if you were going to take a test on it. Any point that you glance up, you feel your cheeks burn to a bright red at the mere sight of him. Just sitting with your brother, acting as if he doesn’t have malicious intent for later in the night.  
“Hey, Y/N,” Bokuto hums, snapping you out of your blank stare. “You okay there? You haven’t said anything all night.” His eyes are genuine, the glint of concern adds to the strident gold of his that give off his resemblance to an owl.
You smile warmly at him, Bokuto has always been the one to worry about you. “I’m fine Bo, just thinking.” You comfort him by taking a mouthful of the food you had been pushing around your plate. 
“Whatcha thinking about?” Kuroo asks, resting his chin in his palm. There’s a certain smile on his face that appears innocent enough. But you know better, you know he is far from innocent.
You graze your tongue over your top teeth, cocking your eyebrow up at his question. “Normal girl stuff. School, friendships… boys.” You slightly smirk to yourself, knowing the dominos that you’ve just toppled over.

“BOYS?” Bokuto blurts out, almost choking on his food. “Has someone caught the eye of my precious sister?” He clutches his chest, putting on an over-exaggerated act of some sort of love-struck teenage girl. 
You roll your eyes, taking note of Kuroo’s slight grimace. “I mean there is a guy yeah. But I dunno if I like him. He’s a bit cocky.” You state casually. 
Kuroo scoffs and raises his eyebrows. “Sounds interesting. Tell me,” He leans forward in his seat. Bokuto does the same, leaning forward and awaiting your words. “Does this boy treat you right?” There’s something about his seemingly innocent question that makes you want to mess with him.
“I dunno. Haven’t really noticed much at this point. All I really know is that while he’s good looking, he’s also a bit selfish. Gets what he wants a lot.” You look back over to Kuroo, his eyes have narrowed yet he still holds his cocky smile. He looks as if he wants to leap right across the table and teach you a thing or two about speaking nicely. 
“Gosh how’d you meet this guy? He sounds like an ass.” Bokuto tuts to himself while looking over at Kuroo for his approval. 
Kuroo looks away briefly before returning your gaze. “Yeah, actually, how did you meet this guy?” 
You chuckle quietly and scratch at your eyebrow, unsure what to answer with. It’s not like you can say you met him through Bokuto. “I uh met him through… volleyball! One of your games, Bo. He goes to a different school.” Possibly the dumbest response you could have said purely because of your brothers reaction.
“Another school? Which one? Have I versed him? What position is he? Am i better than him?” His bombardment of questions almost completely overwhelm you as you try to keep up. Kuroo, on the other hand, simply laughs and looks at you for an answer. 
“Geez, Bo! Calm down and just lemme do my thing okay?” You laugh, used to his excited antics. He was just happy that his sister was finally talking about the possibility of someone else making her happy.  
Kuroo wraps his arm around Bokuto and pulls him in. “Yeah, leave your sister alone.” He teases while ruffling his hair.
Bokuto smiles and grabs the empty plates. “I’m cleaning! Get over it Kiddo!” He dashes into the kitchen, barely giving you any time to react. You scoff lightly and roll your eyes.

Kuroo listens out for the sound of running water before turning his gaze to you. “So, this boy is a bit selfish huh?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. 
“Yep. But I never said I wasn’t selfish either.” You lean forward and smile at him while your foot from under the table nudges against his crotch. Kuroo inhales sharply and shoots you a challenging look, almost daring you to keep going and see what happens. You smile innocently and pull out your phone, barely paying any attention to him while you rub him out of view from anyone who could walk into the room. Kuroo shuts his eyes and rests his forehead in the palm of his hand, trying to keep himself composed. It hardly worked, his cheeks were already flushed and his breathing changed as he immediately hardened from your movements. 
Kuroo tilts his head back and clenches his fist, obviously struggling to keep calm. “So fucking mean.” He laughs breathily. His eyes lock back onto yours. There it is again, the gloss of lust that was oh so obvious. 
Even as Bokuto walks back into the room, your foot doesn’t move, in fact, it moves faster. Revenge for what happened in the shower. 

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

You glance over at your phone. 1:47am. Bokuto would definitely asleep right now. Your heart almost leaps out of your chest when you hear the door from the end of the hallway opening. Quiet footsteps echo against the wooden floors with each subtle movement, curse the rickety house. The steps stop as soon as they reach just outside your door. You wait.
The handle turns slowly to reveal Kuroo who quickly steps into your room. Shirtless and wearing grey sweatpants. He 100% did that on purpose.
You smile and sit up. “Lost?” You ask, batting your eyelashes innocently. 
Kuroo laughs quietly and sits over at the seat by your desk, intentionally creating distance. “Don’t act so pure as if you weren’t begging me to fuck you in the shower.”

You narrow your eyes and grin while climbing out from under the bed covers. He wasn’t the only one who planned their outfit considering you have nothing on besides a bra and panties. You glide over and straddle his lap, letting your hands run up his bare chest. 
“Is the offer still on the table?” You ask, feeling him harden against your inner thigh. You giggle and run your hand over his crotch through the thin fabric of his pants. “Should I take this as a yes?”
Kuroo inhales sharply. “Well I’m certainly not here to read you a bedtime story.” One of his hands reaches behind and unclasps your bra, throwing it far away. His thumb grazes over one of your nipples. The coldness of his fingertips sends goosebumps over your body. He smirks at the sight of them now perky at the sensation. 
“You’re so quick to call me out for getting hard when you’re already dripping wet.” He titters, slipping his fingers inside your underwear. He wasn’t wrong. You were ready for him hours ago. The mere thought of him sneaking into your room was enough to have you squeezing your thighs together in anticipation. With no warning, he slips two fingers inside. You cut off the sound of your gasp by hiding in his shoulder. 
Kuroo laughs and strokes your hair with his free hand. “Such a pretty girl.” He cooes, strategically pumping his fingers in the way that effortlessly reaches your g-spot. You exhale breathily against him and lean up to his ear.
“You gonna tease me all night? Or are you gonna fuck me?”
Kuroo smirks and kisses your neck. “So demanding. Maybe if you ask nicely… or beg.” He’s such an asshole. A very attractive one but still.

You lean back and look into his eyes, slightly glassy and obviously full of desire. “Please Kuroo,” You tangle one of your hands into his hair and pout, rocking your hips against his fingers that still insist on working to give you pleasure. “Please fuck me… I’ve waited so patiently.” 
He curls his fingers, hitting the spot that makes your toes curl. You lean back and gasp, hips trembling at the sensation. Kuroo stands and carries you over to the bed, your legs wrapped around his waist. 
“Patiently? You call rubbing me under the table ‘waiting patiently’?” He raises an eyebrow and throws you on the bed as if you were a doll that weighed nothing. “I ought to just tease you and then leave you alone, craving me all night.” He climbs onto the bed and towers over you, his head tilted down to look at your body. 
You lift his chin up to look in his eyes. “Really think you have that self control?” You ask, nudging your knee against his crotch.
Kuroo exhales a short laugh. “You got me there.” His lips plant themselves against your own. His tongue quickly finding yours. All of his actions completely belittling his words from before, you can tell how desperate he is for you. Almost melting into your hands. 

If his true intentions weren’t obvious enough, he lowers himself down your body, littering your entire body with kisses. He flicks his tongue over your nipple and smirks when you whine at him for moving on so quickly. In almost no time at all, he reaches your hips where his thumb traces the deep marks he left on your thighs. 
“Not fair-” You frown, looking down at him as you prop yourself onto your elbows. Kuroo looks up with a questioning face. “You’ve marked me but I haven’t done it to you.” 
He can’t help but snort at your remark. “Alright, come here then.” He sits back against the bed head and pulls you up back up onto his lap. “Put em anywhere you’d like.”
Your eyes scan his body, trying to decide where you should leave your mark. Eventually, you settle on his collarbone. Easy enough to find but also easy to hide. Better to not leave any that Bokuto could see. You catch his skin in your lips and suck hard enough to leave a deep purple hickey. You pull back with a triumphant smile.  
“Happy now?” He asks, grinning with his tongue between his teeth. He was very clearly enjoying himself. You nod your head, unable to take your eyes off of the hickey. “Good. My turn.”

Kuroo throws you onto your back once again and mirrors your movements by choosing your collarbone. But rather than giving just one, he covers your chest in marks. 
“God Kuroo you trynna turn me purple?!” You point to the one at the very base of your neck. “People will be able to see this one! My uniform doesn’t cover.” You grumble with a small frown.
He raises an eyebrow and smiles. “Let them see. I want them to know you belong to someone.” A side of him you had never seen before, possessive. Kuroo leans his forehead against your own. “You were right about me being selfish.”
You scoff lightly while rolling your eyes. “No shit.”
Kuroo smirks and trails his fingertips over your jaw. His eyes admiring every single part of your face while his free hand slips your underwear down your legs. “You sure about this?” He asks, hooking his thumb into the waistband of his sweats. 
You pull them down for him and smile. “Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet?” You tease, leaning up to his ear. “Better not hold back.”
He exhales deeply and throws off his pants completely, gone to your bedroom floor. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

Kuroo grabs a hold on both of your wrist with one hand and pins them above your head. His other hand adjusting himself just a few centimeters away from your hole. 
“Whatever you do, don’t scream.” He warns, glancing up into your eyes. You almost laugh at him sounding rather confident in his abilities. Perhaps you shouldn’t underestimate him. Kuroo thrusts up, hard. Completely bottoming out in that one move alone. 
Already knowing you’d cry out, he covered your mouth with his hand. Smiling a smile that almost made you want to punch him in the jaw. “Told you not to scream.” he shrugs. 
Your entire body trembles underneath him, hardly used to his size as it stretches you out. “Asshole.” The word muffles against his hand. 
Kuroo simply smiles and thrusts again. Working his way up to an average pace to give you time to adjust. Unable to control your noises, moans slip past your lips into the silence of  the night.
“You’re gonna wake Bokuto.” He whispers, a slight laugh trailing behind. Perhaps that was part of the thrill for him. Rather than slowing down, he doubles his speed.

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

You’re not quite sure how long you’ve been going at it. Long enough to feel nothing but numbness in your legs. 
Kuroo’s hand is latched on to your hip as he snaps his hips into you from behind. You mind completely fogged with desire. It takes over your whole body, leaving you with nothing but the need to obey. 
You look towards your legs, unsure when he left those deep bite marks and slight bruises from gripping so hard. 
“Kuroo-” You whimper, eyes heavy and tongue almost completely fallen from your mouth. 
Kuroo pulls your hair back to bring you up against his chest. “Never seen you like this before. Safe to say you’ve completely submitted?” He kisses at your neck and rubs against your clit with his fingers. 
You whine out and lean your head back against his shoulders. God knows how many times you’ve come already. It almost hurts to feel it build up again. Your entire body’s sensitivity at its maximum.
“Can’t come again-” You babble, breathily heavily and shutting your eyes. 
Kuroo pushes you onto the mattress yet again and flips you onto your back, never even taking you off of his cock. “Yes you can pretty girl. You’re gonna come for me, okay?”
Obey. You nod your head with a whimper, your mind unable to even consider the possibility of saying no. 
“Such a good girl. That’s it, Princess. You’re taking it so well.” His voice lingers in your mind. Replaying over and over. It sends you further to your upcoming orgasm. Who knew just some simple words could hold so much power?
You cover your mouth and squeeze your eyes shut. Of course you want to look at him, with the newly setting sun you could properly see his face. But now wasn’t the time.
You brace yourself for the hot white waves that wash over your body and makes every inch of you tremble against him. 

Kuroo hardly even slows down. He just keeps thrusting, dragging out your orgasm to an almost painful extent.
You hide your face in his shoulder and shriek. “Kuroo! Slow- slow down!” 
“Sorry, Princess. But I’m so close. Just hold out for me baby.” His voice almost breaking in the overwhelming pleasure. You bite your lip, trying to endure the overstimulation. 
Kuroo groans lowly and grips the sheets beside your head, trying to keep himself as composed as possible. His hips shift to hit that spot that makes you arch your back off the bed and pant for air. 
“I love seeing you like this. A complete mess for me.” He grins before pulling out and moving further up your body. He strokes himself as he starts to reach the summit of his own orgasm. “Stick out your tongue for me sweetheart.” Kuroo’s eyes flutter shut as you obey his command. His last few strokes making a complete mess of your face. You can taste the saltiness of his cum against your lips. 
Once he calms down, Kuroo stands and fetches a towel to clean you up with. There was absolutely no way you were moving to get it yourself. 

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

He lays down beside you and pulls you into his body. You can hear his heart beat loudly in his chest. 
“You okay?” He asks, planting his lips onto your forehead and gently brushing back your hair with his fingertips. 
You look up at him with an almost amused look. “I can’t feel my fucking legs.”
Kuroo laughs and holds you tighter. “Yeah sorry about that. I did warn you though.” His fingers interlock with your own, keeping you held in the embrace. “So… you down for another round?” He jokes.
You push off of him and chuckle. “Go back to your room before Bo wakes up.” 
“Yeah yeah.” He gets up and searches for his pants that were carelessly thrown on the floor. “Oh and Princess?” He pauses right before the door, looking back at you. “Tell me, does this boy treat you right?”
You smile at him. “Better than all the others.”
_____________________________________________________________________
I literally had to stop writing this at some point because I was listening to a Miruko audio and hOLY FUCKING MOLY HELP SHE’S SO HOT JKHGJV
Anyways! Here’s the long awaited part 3 to daddy kuroo. Legs? Destroyed. You gon need a wheelchair babe

RUMORS | 24k Series #2

Miya Atsumu x f!Reader

(Y/N), one of the most successful actresses, got caught up in a rumor with MSBY Black Jackals’ setter Miya Atsumu. A feud kicked off between them when the actress denied the initial rumor, but the setter claimed it to be true, for fun.

1. My Type

Chapter 11: Room

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[masterlist]

Facts:

• When it comes to brain size in relation to body dimensions, Chihuahuas have the largest brains of all dog breeds.
• Like human babies, Chihuahua puppies are born with a soft spot on the top of the skull called a molera. It usually closes within a year, but some dogs will retain the molera throughout their life.
• Chihuahuas are believed to be descendants of an ancient breed, the techichi. Toltecs in Mexico kept these pups as lap dogs as early as the 9th century CE.
• Rice from ilysb was based on my dog Chihuahua.

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Taglist: @amberalisa @mint-mai@134340-cm@quietsimp@anejuuuuoy@kurokawa-aida@gooseyhouse@youpieceofwasabi@bbkiyoomi@chaelysian@chichibia@elianetsantana@maitenight@moonlightaangel@captaincyberqueen@tchalameme@laughingismorefun@tsukkinginamo@keiarma@agaashesmilktea@itsimjaebeomsforehead@rogueariadne@h0wab0utw3d0ntd0that@yamayoomi@tendo-sxtori@its-the-aerieljeane@karasuqueen@omibaby@graykageyama@koofii@belongtothewcrld@lady-tokugawa-of-mikawa@tsukkiswifeey@qangaji@oohcherry@yongboxerrr@kellesvt@tsukkisfatsimp@ssunasimpp@hollypastl@merrdlp@iish@bakugoandkageyamaswife@re-i-chel@yqshirov @katxsukishima @toaster-stick @kodzukken5 @erinoikawa@hxked@thesuitelifeofafangirl

Chapter 10: Wrong Account

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Facts:

• “Doughnut” is the more traditional spelling, although its shortened form, “donut,” is also acceptable.
• A glazed doughnut has about 240 calories, of which 120 are from fat.
• The longest line of donuts ever recorded stretched 1,841 feet 10 inches in Berlin on April 27, 2014.
• The largest serving of donuts weighed a whopping 1,470 pounds in Kazakhstan on November 2, 2013.
• The world’s most expensive donut is made of 24k edible gold, edible diamonds, and aged chocolate balsamic vinegar. The remaining ingredients are top secret. They sell for $100 a piece.

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Taglist: @amberalisa @mint-mai@134340-cm@quietsimp@anejuuuuoy@kurokawa-aida@gooseyhouse@youpieceofwasabi@bbkiyoomi@chaelysian@chichibia@elianetsantana@maitenight@moonlightaangel@captaincyberqueen@tchalameme@laughingismorefun@tsukkinginamo@keiarma@agaashesmilktea@itsimjaebeomsforehead@rogueariadne@h0wab0utw3d0ntd0that@yamayoomi@tendo-sxtori@its-the-aerieljeane@karasuqueen@omibaby@graykageyama@koofii@belongtothewcrld@lady-tokugawa-of-mikawa@tsukkiswifeey@qangaji@oohcherry@yongboxerrr@kellesvt@tsukkisfatsimp@ssunasimpp@hollypastl@merrdlp@iish@bakugoandkageyamaswife@re-i-chel@yqshirov @katxsukishima @toaster-stick @kodzukken5 @erinoikawa@hxked@thesuitelifeofafangirl@miyacentral@marvelousbakugou@erens-piss-cleaner

Love Story

Oikawa Tooru x Reader

: fluff, just fluff, time-skip

“Come on, (y/n)! Why are you so slow?” Oikawa whines, already standing at your shared apartment’s entryway. “Taylor Swift won’t wait for us. Move faster!”

It was your birthday a few days ago and Oikawa gifted you with VIP tickets to Taylor Swift’s concert because he knows how much of a big fan you are of her and her music. He’s lowkey a fan too. So here you are now, still at your place, an hour away from the expected starting time of the concert. At this point, you’re not sure whether Oikawa bought the tickets for you or for himself. He could be a bigger Swiftie than you are.

“Calm down, Swiftie. Taylor won’t care if you’re late.” You roll your eyes at him before putting on the shoes that completed your outfit. He stretches his hand out to you, asking you to hold his hand. You teasingly shake your head no and he pouts, leaving your apartment first.

You follow behind him laughing. After catching up to him, you wrap your arms around his torso and forced yourself between his armpits. “You smell good.”

“No. Stay away from me. You don’t want to hold me.” Oikawa looks away from you, dragging your body along with him to the elevator. You start sniffing his underarm and he laughs, giving in to your hold. He takes your hand and intertwines it with his. “Reject my hand again and you’ll never get to hold me ever.”

“You’ll be the one suffering if that happens,” you tell in a matter-of-fact tone and it’s his turn to roll his eyes. The elevator door opens at the parking lot and Oikawa suddenly runs, leaving you to stand there confused. “Is he that excited to see Taylor Swift?”

You walk painfully slow, wanting to make fun of him. But to your dismay, he doesn’t give a reaction to your unhurried manner. Entering the car, you notice how much more fidgety he has become. But you don’t pay much attention to it and register it as his excitement for the concert.

The car ride is unusually quiet. Oikawa isn’t singing along to the song, or even paying attention to the road. He’s staring at blank space and this almost leads you to an accident. “Tooru, red light!” He steps on the brake suddenly, almost throwing you off of your seat.

“Sorry, angel. I’m thinking about the concert already.” He fakes a chuckle and clasps your hand with his. You glare at him. “I’m sorry.” Oikawa takes the back of your hand on his lips, giving it small gentle kisses multiple of times.

“Ew, your saliva,” you joke and he lets go of your hand almost immediately. You smile, forcing your hand in his.

It has always been like this. Your relationship has always been the one with playful banters and endless teasing. People would often mistake you as best friends because of that. If it weren’t for his strong desire to hold you every moment, no one would have known about your relationship. But nothing’s wrong with being best friends, too. The two of you actually prefer it that way.

Noticing how cold his hand is, you set the air conditioning of the car to lowest level. His head whips at you in concern. “Do you feel cold, angel?”

“No. But I think you are. Your hand is cold,” you point out and he becomes silent again. Not long after, you arrive at Tokyo Dome. The place is packed, but thanks to Oikawa’s professional athlete status, which is already equal to a celebrity’s, you avoid the crowd and enter the dome efficiently.

The concert starts exactly when you arrive and you hear Oikawa mumbling behind you about how you could have been actually late if you moved any slower. You stick your tongue at him before focusing back on the stage.

You’re singing along to the songs and screaming on top of your lungs, but your boyfriend is too quiet. Too quiet for someone who has been reminding you about the concert ever since your birthday. Too silent for someone who flew to Japan just to go to this concert. Right then, you finally connect the dots.

“Are you feeling sick? Do you want to go home?” You say close to his ear so he can hear you through the crowd. Cold hands but feeling hot? Restless but silent? Definitely ill.

“I’m alright,” he whispers back at you, smiling at your reassuringly. Nodding, you turn around to focus on the artist on the stage.

A familiar guitar play starts and you shout excitedly, facing your boyfriend. “It’s our favorite song!”

We were both young when I first saw you…

“I close my eyes and the flashback starts, I’m standing there,” you sing along passionately. Oikawa’s hand land on your hips and sways alongs with your hips.

“It’s a love story-”

“Baby just say yes!” Oikawa sings loudly and from his chest. You chuckle before singing again. The hands on your hips start to tremble but you’re too focused on the song you don’t notice. Oikawa’s throat is dry and it’s definitely not from singing.

While you sing along in excitement, Oikawa becomes more nervous as the song progresses. He shouldn’t mess this up. He has been planning these for months now. He practiced this way more than enough. One wrong move and his plan will surely fail.

We keep quiet cause we’re dead if they knew so close your eyes…

Oikawa looks at his left and sees his friends a few seats away from the two of you, giving him thumbs up and mouthing, ‘you can do it’and‘go for it’. He checks at you to see if you’ve noticed them, which you haven’t so you sigh in relief.

He stares at your enjoying figure, and gets a peek of your lovely smile and glimmering eyes. The way the lights hit you so perfectly makes his heart beat faster. That’s enough to reassure him that it’ll end well no matter how his plan goes.

I got tired of waiting. Wonderin’ if you were ever comin’ around. My faith in you was fading. When I met you on the outskirts of town, and I said…

This is it. He has to do it now.

You on the other hand is still singing alone, unaware of your boyfriend’s wariness. “Romeo, save me, I’ve been feeling so alone. I keep waiting for you, but you never come…”

Out of nowhere, he’s in front of you. Oh you surely can see him, but you’re not sure if you’re seeing him correctly. The one and only Oikawa Tooru is kneeling on one knee before you, a velvet box in hand, but you don’t even notice that because your eyes are glued on the shiny diamond ring.

Is this in my head? I don’t know what to think. He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring, and said…

“Marry me, (Y/N).”

Chapter 9: Aichi

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Facts:

• You saw their messages as an accident
• Osamu was driving around Aichi for 2 hours and Atsumu was calling him for that long too
• The two had to watch old videos of the team going to Suna’s house just to remember where he lived
• Osamu thought of calling Kita but he couldn’t because he’d get scolded if the former captain finds out that you got too upset you went home and asked for a breakup
• They found the address through an old mail packaging that your mom sent to Osamu
• Atsumu had to go to his brother’s place for it
• Mama Miya calls you “Daughter-In-Law”
• Your mom saw Osamu’s car parking outside their house but she didn’t say a thing to your dad and just let you be when you snuck him in

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Taglist: I can’t paste anything again what’s wrong with this app!!

Chapter 9: Plans

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“Hey, love. I saw this Tiktok…” You sigh heavily as you hear the words come out of Kuroo’s mouth. Every time he shows you a video from that app, he follows it up with a, “let’s do it.”

“What is it this time?” Your eyebrows are furrowed, expressing your disagreement already. You’ve been peacefully relaxing on the bed and your husband really wants to destroy that peace of yours.

“So you rate my exes, and I rate yours. Out of 10,” Kuroo says and you squint your eyes at him in suspicion. There has to be something behind the sudden interest in remaking it.

“Why?” is all you can say at his request.

Kuroo shrugs, a smug look on his face. “Why not?”

He takes out his laptop and opens a social media platform. Placing his laptop on his lap, he pats the space beside him, a sign that he wants you beside him. You sit beside him and he immediately types out a name.

“This was my first girlfriend back in middle school.” He describes and clicks on one of the girl’s posts.

“She’s so pretty. Is that her kid?” You point at the child his ex is holding in picture. Kuroo nods. “So was she nice? I have to rate her through her personality.”

“She was nice. But she left me for a college student,” Kuroo explains.

“Oh, so she’s a victim?” You snicker, and Kuroo chuckles at your statement. “A 6/10. She’s pretty and she looks nice. But minus points for dating a college student while she was in middle school.”

He proceeds to search for his next ex. “I know her,” you say as soon as you see the picture. “I was the one who planned her wedding a year ago. I believe she gave birth just a month ago.”

“She did. She was my upperclassman in Nekoma when we dated. I think I was in my last year of middle school and she was graduating high school,” Kuroo elaborates and you laugh. “What?”

“You’re also a victim.” With that, Kuroo starts laughing with you. It takes some time before the two of you stop giggling like kids.

“Since I know her, a 7/10. She was really polite when I was planning her wedding,” you explain while panting, recovering from your fit of laughter.

“This is the last one,” Kuroo says as he searches and you look at him in shock, not believing him.

“You only dated thrice?” You ask him and he nods proudly. “But you did have a lot of flings so still a bad boy,” you tease and Kuroo rolls his eyes. He shows you his screen and you look at the girl in the picture intently.

You glance at him and then his ex, and then him again, then back to the screen. “You’re lying.”

“About what?”

“Are you sure you dated her?” You point at woman at the screen.

“Yes. Ask all of my friends. They’re witnesses.”

“You dated a famous idol…”

“Was an idol,” he corrects you. “She’s quitting the industry because she’s pregnant.”

“I love her group’s songs. I give her a 10/10. But I still can’t believe you managed to pull someone like her. Kenma said that you weren’t famous amongst girls in high school…” you state, remembering his best friend’s words when you had dinner together just a few nights ago.

Kuroo simply shrugs, “I guess she really liked me then.” He lays his gadget on your lap, waiting for you to type in. You become nervous. How are you supposed to tell him that you’ve only dated seriously once in your life? And it’s someone he sees quite often in your workplace.

“I only dated once,” you tell him calmly, trying to conceal your shaky fingers as you type. Pressing enter, your eyes immediately look away. “You know him, right? He’s our cake maker at work.”

“How was he as a boyfriend?” Kuroo simply asks and you nod nonchalantly. “He seems like a nice guy whenever I see him at your office.”

“Really sweet. Baked me goods everyday and even brought me lunch boxes,” you reply rather confidently. “We dated back in high school.”

“9/10.” Kuroo rates with a pout. He knew he was going to get jealous, but he still dug his own grave for his. His plan being:

‘To subtly hint that he wants a baby.’

All of his exes now have children, and he is not competing with them at any means, but maybe you’ll get an idea about his baby fever if he shows you that most people at your age have children.

Now that his Plan A has failed, he’ll have to proceed to his Plan B.

Kuroo patiently waits for you at his car, ready for your first date after a long time. As he sings along with the song on the radio, he scrolls through his Instagram and sees Sakusa’s post about her daughter.

“Must be nice to have a kid,” Kuroo sighs. Seconds later, he realizes what he said and puts his phone down. “No. No. No. I can’t feel this way yet. It’s too early. But we’re already in our mid-20s so a kid won’t be weird. No… Does she even want kids? My kids?”

A knock on the car window disrupts his soliloquy. He turns his head to the glass and sees you waving outside. He quickly unlocks the door, allowing you to enter. “Hi, love. Who were you talking to?”

“I was talking to Kenma,” he reasons before he leans in to capture your lips into a greeting kiss. “How was work?”

“It was tiring. The Kitas sent an invitation by the way,” you answer as you pull away from him. “It’s for the triplets’ first birthday.”

“Should we buy their gifts today?” Kuroo asks you, starting the engine of the car. “I think we’ll find something while roaming around. What about you? You said you had to buy something.”

“Bikinis,” you say nonchalantly and don’t see Kuroo’s eyebrow raise from your response.

“Are you going somewhere?”

“I forgot to tell you. I’m going to Okinawa with my high school friends next week. You know them, right? Makki, Mattsun, Iwa, and Oikawa,” you respond and Kuroo becomes silent, not knowing how to react. He doesn’t care that you’re going with guys, but how did you forget to tell him something important?

The ride is serene. Kuroo’s hand not leaving your thigh the whole time. Your hand is on top of his, your fingers tracing the protruded veins in his arms. Landing on his ring finger, your eyes scanned the body part. You don’t have a wedding band yet. The two of you have never thought of getting a pair.

The two of you arrive at your destination so get out of the car. Kuroo takes your hand immediately, sliding both of your hands into his jacket’s pocket. You smile at the romantic gesture, something you’re yet to get used to.

“Should we buy your stuff first?” Kuroo questions, looking down at you. Nodding, you lead him to a bikini boutique.

As soon as you enter, Kuroo closes his eyes. The store you entered doesn’t only sell bikinis, but lingerie as well. He has to keep his lids shut or his imagination will go everywhere. Noticing how wary he is about the surrounding, you smirk.

You hook a finger on his collar and pull him down. “Choose anything you’d like to see me in.”

After the not so quick shopping trip at the garment store, you have noticed how fidgety Kuroo is. He wouldn’t stop squeezing your hand and giving you cheeks kisses. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just excited to see you in this,” he reasons, lifting the paper bag with sets of lingerie he has chosen. You hum, your attention going back to the racks of baby clothing in front of you.

While you’re focused on the baby items in front of you, Kuroo is panicking. In his mind, he’s about to explode. You in lingerie + his baby fever= a kink he thought he’ll never have. He’s trying so hard not to think about your mini me’s, but seeing the tiny pieces of garments is making it hard for him.

“My love, the triplets are boys. But knowing the Kitas, they wouldn’t mind dressing up their sons in that dress you’re holding,” you point and Kuroo snaps back to his senses. He looks down and sees that he is holding onto a yellow dress with ribbons and ruffles. He didn’t even know how he got the dress on his hands.

“Oh,” he chuckles awkwardly, putting the dress back on the rack. “I just thought it was cute.” You raise an eyebrow at him in confusion and he forces out a laugh. “It would look cute on Sakusa’s daughter. The two of us are kind of close.”

“Really? I always see him post about her. She would look very cute in that. Should we buy it?” Your confusion about his actions are thrown away by his reason. He sighs in relief as you look away, the dress now in his cart.

‘Our daughter would look cuter,’ Kuroo thinks and he smacks his cheek, causing you to look at him in shock. It was a rather loud and heavy smack. “Mosquito.”

His Plan B is a fail.

You’re eating lunch together the next day at your office as usual. It’s quiet before he flashes his phone screen in front of you, showing you a picture of three familiar small boys. “Look at the triplets.” You continue to eat after taking a look at the picture, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. Kuroo hums happily. “Aren’t they cute?” You only nod to his question.

“Look at Sakusa’s daughter. I met her last time and she’s such a charmer,” Kuroo narrates, letting out a giggle. The interaction replaying in his head. The interaction that caused his sudden baby fever.

It was a busy day at work since the Olympic team had to take their profile and poster pictures. Kuroo was talking to Bokuto when a child suddenly latched onto the spiker’s leg.

“My favorite teammate, you’re here!” Bokuto beamed and picked the child up. As she rested in his forearm, she looked at Kuroo in curiosity. Normally, children would get scared of him, but she wasn’t, which made Kuroo happy.

“Hi. My name’s Kuroo. What’s your name?” Kuroo asked the girl. She smiled at him before answering.

“Kia! Do you have a girlfriend?” Kia asked, taking Kuroo aback. It’s not everyday that a 4 year old would ask you about your relationship status.

“I don’t have a girlfriend, but I do have a wife,” Kuroo replied, which made the little pout.

“Since you only have a wife, I can be your girlfriend,” Kia proclaimed. Kuroo smiled at her statement. The girl suddenly made him think what his daughter would be like if he ever gets to have one.

“I’m sorry but my wife would be upset if I have a girlfriend, so I can’t be your boyfriend,” Kuroo explained to her, hoping she’ll learn something from it. You could subtly teach them about what’s right and wrong at a young age.

“Then, I’ll date your child, father-in-law,” Kia claimed which Kuroo patted her head for.

“I’ll remember your words, future daughter-in-law.”

“What are you smiling for?” You ask Kuroo and he looks up to you, his attention now on you.

‘It’s now or never. This is the perfect chance.’ Kuroo thinks, placing his chin on the palm of his hand. “I was just thinking about how cute our children would be.” You ignore his words and proceed to clean up your lunch box. As result, Kuroo frowns. He mirrors your actions, keeping quiet. Maybe it was wrong to mention it.

Your secretary knocks on your door before announcing that your client is already waiting outside. Kuroo put back the chair back to its proper place before walking over behind the table to give you a quick hug. You can feel his sadness radiating off him and you’re sure it’s from your silence.

His baby fever wasn’t unnoticed. In fact, you knew about it the moment you saw him scrolling through baby videos. He wasn’t very subtle about it, too. From showing his exes, to bringing you to the baby store, to sending you pictures of babies, to mentioning children all the time, you definitely knew about his baby fever.

But you don’t want a baby yet. You had just gotten steady recently, and having a child will wreck that steadiness for sure. You want to keep him to yourself as much as you can, and a child will take your time with each other away. Yet, you don’t know how to tell him that, because he’s determined to have one as soon as possible.

“I’m leaving now. I’ll pick you up later,” Kuroo speaks. He plants a kiss on your forehead before turning away. The way he turned his back at you, the way he frowned a little, it broke your heart. So you grab his hand and pull him back towards you. “Yes, my love?”

“Should we start trying for a child?” You look up to him with shaky eyes, and he saddens at your expression. He wraps his arms around you, your head falling onto his abdomen, while his hand pets the back of your head.

“Love, I’m not asking for a child immediately, so don’t get pressured. Just take my baby fever as a promise that I want to start a family with you and only you,” he reassures you, but you know he’s partly lying about it. Kuroo is a man who doesn’t give up until gets what he wants.

Kuroo’s Plan C has failed. He has no choice but to do his Plan D. (Will be posted soon if you know, you know.)

——————————————————————————

Facts:

• Fevers turn on the body’s immune system. They help the body fight infection. Normal fevers between 100° and 104° F (37.8° - 40° C) are good for sick children.
• Fevers only need to be treated if they cause discomfort. Most fevers don’t cause discomfort until they go above 102° or 103° F (39° or 39.5° C).
• Most fevers from infection don’t go above 103° or 104° F (39.5°- 40° C). They rarely go to 105° or 106° F (40.6° or 41.1° C). While these are “high” fevers, they also are harmless ones.
• Fevers that don’t come down to normal can be caused by viruses or bacteria. The response to fever medicines tells us nothing about the cause of the infection.

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Taglist: Still can’t tag smh T^T the app keeps crashing every time i tag more than 5 people

p*$$y fairy #2

akaashi x reader

warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, overstimulation, oral (f receiving), semi-public sex

“Don’t be surprised you know I’m freaky. Them double-hand motions you gon’ get a surprise. You way too fine just for a quickie, so when I go down I gotta take my time.”

“Keep quiet, or we’ll get caught,” Akaashi warns you, one hand covering your mouth, while the other is in between your thighs. Your whines are muffled and at the same time amplified by his hands. You throw your head back, hair messed up by the mirror behind you. “Out of all times, you chose to be needy tonight. At my work’s anniversary party.”

He removes your hand away from your mouth and allows you to reason. “You look so good in your suit.”

Because that’s the truth. You’re so needy because your boyfriend looks good in his 3-piece suit, he especially prepared for tonight. What he didn’t prepare for was, that he’ll be in his workplace’s toilet, two fingers knuckles deep inside your pussy.

Akaashi chuckles, his empty hand finding your jaw. As if you are programmed to, you open your mouth, tongue out. He smirks, his thumb pressing over your tongue, enabling you to speak once more.

“You know how much I hate quickies…” Akaashi looks down at you, his gunmetal blue eyes filled with lust that reciprocates your needy ones. “Yet you still begged me to do you in this bathroom.”

His fingers inside you curls, his thumb doing circular motions over your clit. You attempt to moan but Akaashi pulls his thumb out of your mouth and changes it with his forefinger and middle finger.

“Suck it,” he orders, and you follow. Eyes closed, you do as he says, tongue lapping over his long fingers, playing with them one by one. Akaashi continues his actions on your womanhood, while he stares at your fucked out image. He has only been using his hands and you’re already thisruined.

Akaashi adds another finger inside of you, stretching you out. Not able to handle the stretch, you moan but don’t stop on sucking his fingers. Akaashi matches the pace of your bobbing head his plunging fingers, delivering you quickly to your high.

Just when you’re about to cum, Akaashi removes his fingers out of your pussy and mouth. You scowl at him almost immediately, so he leans in, his mouth close to your ears.

“Be a good girl for the rest of the night and I might give you a reward when we return home.”

And you did. You remained good the rest of the event, tried so hard to keep your hands to yourself. Though your thoughts were filled of how good Akaashi’s fingers were inside of your hole.

The reward? Akaashi eating you out.

He has been eating you out since you don’t know when. You’ve cum multiple times, but Akaashi doesn’t stop because you’ve been such a good girl. At this point, you’re unsure if he’s punishing you or rewarding you.

Akaashi’s tongue is playing with your clit, three of his fingers deep inside you. His other hand is on your thigh, pushing the muscle down to stop you from squirming. Your fingers find home to his hair, grabbing them for your dear life.

You look down; that action is the worst but the best thing you have done. Akaashi’s eyes are looking up to you, watching your every facial expression, examining your every reaction. You regret making eye contact because he looks high, high from your juices and pussy. Little do you know, he’s addicted to it.

“I love eating you out. You taste so good,” Akaashi mutters, pulling his fingers out of your sex. He reaches up, and puts them inside of your mouth, not giving you the chance to get ready for it. “See? You taste good.” Akaashi pushes his long fingers deeper, making you gag. You swear you saw him smirk before he started eating you out again.

Akaashi sucks on your clit harshly, causing you to choke out a desperate moan. You feel the tip of his tongue poking on throbbing bud, the constant pleasure he has been giving you now building up.

“Keiji… Cumming…” you manage to mumble despite your head feeling empty and his fingers throat deep in your mouth. With one last hard lick on your clit, you come undone for the nth time.

Akaashi removes his fingers from your mouth, and lays his head on your thigh. You’re trembling and panting, and your oh so sweet boyfriend is only running his hand up and down your thigh. Your eyes are closed, letting your body get over from the multiple highs. You reach down to cup his cheek, running your hand through his hair occasionally.

“Baby?” Akaashi calls you, which you respond with a hum, too fucked out to actually process anything.“Can you ride my face?”

Chapter 8: Mama Miya I

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[masterlist]

Facts:

• At the reunion, Atsumu kept on hinting to Suna that the you and Osamu are dating but the brunette didn’t get it.
• Kimi knows about your relationship with Osamu. She only found out after dinner so she felt guilty about it and messaged you through Instagram immediately to apologize.
• Osamu was so nervous the whole dinner because he thought you were going to break up with him.
• Mama Miya knows that Osamu is dating you because he keeps on staring at you during dinner in a different way. She talked to him after dinner about it.
• Osamu still doesn’t know where you went after dinner.

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Taglist: still can’t tag

Chapter 7: Wrong Information

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[masterlist]

——————————————————————————

Facts:

• It was Kita who convinced Osamu to pursue you and your relationship.
• Kita assured Osamu that he would be the one to talk to Suna if he ever finds out unplanned.
• Osamu saw the necklace idea while he was scrolling through his Pinterest feed. It was a random picture amidst the packaging ideas and kitchen interior designs.
• Osamu didn’t tell Atsumu why he was meeting up with the jeweler because the blonde will get too excited and tell you about it.
• This is Osamu’s first serious relationship.

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Taglist: tumblr won’t let me tag anyone ):

pairing: akaashi keiji x female reader

genre: fluff, TLFY!au

warnings: none

word count: 523

synopsis: you come home to akaashi’s final letter to you, ending your 5 year relationship with the beautiful novelist.

author’s note: chapter sixteen of ellie and i’s “the last five years” au collab. AH last chapter from me (official last chapter of this series is the next from ellie^^),,,,i had such an fun time working with ellie on this, it was honor to collaborate with her. i hope you all have enjoyed this series so far and this (short) chapter too, thank you <3

don’t kiss me goodbye again

leave this night clean and quiet

you were outside your apartment, hands pulling at akaashi’s hair, tugging him down to roughly kiss him with passion. his dainty and nimble hands roamed your body, one hand gripping your waist and pulling you close, the other placed on the back of your neck to further deepen said kiss. after what seemed like hours just making out (when in reality it was more like 20 seconds) you pulled away, a string of saliva connecting the two of you, your forehead leaning against his as you panted for air, looking deep into his addictive pretty blue eyes. 

you want the last word, you want me to laugh but leave it for now

both of you began walking down the stairs, him walking one step ahead of you but still facing your way, a smirk on his face when he licked his bottom lip, making you roll your eyes and smack his shoulder lightly. “all you can say, all you can feel, was wrapped up inside that one perfect kiss, leave it at that. i’ll watch you turn the corner and go…” you told him, reaching the bottom of the stairs and seeing him turn away slightly to start leaving. before he could, you grabbed his wrist, pulling him in to hold him; his arms immediately wrapping around your frame and breathing in the familiar scent of you hair. 

“goodbye until tomorrow, akaashi. goodbye until the next time you call and i will be waiting, you hear?”

he chuckled, pushing your hair out of your face. “i hear you, alright. trust me, you don’t need to wait though, i can barely get enough of you, beautiful.” you let him go reluctantly, shyly waving bye to him.

goodbye until tomorrow, goodbye ‘til i recall how to breathe

and i have been waiting, i have been waiting for you!

you always felt like you stood on a precipice, struggling to keep your balance. it was hard for you to enter a relationship and give your trust, to become vulnerable with someone truly. it was a difficult task for you to do, and whenever you finally gave yourself to a person, they left you, so you were scared to do that with anyone nowadays. but, with akaashi, you felt yourself opening yourself up one stitch at a time, showing him more of yourself than anyone else has seen. 

finally yes! finally now! finally something takes me away. finally free!

and he accepted you, he cut through your strings and opened your wings. it was a wild concept, because with him you felt like you were flying despite falling deeper and deeper in love with him. it was like you waited your whole life to meet this perfect person, just waiting for him to show up. and he was yours, the man of your dreams was your boyfriend and you wouldn’t wish for anything different, because you would go through all the pain from your previous relationships if it meant he would still be yours in the end.

because honestly, it felt like akaashi keiji rescued you.

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taglist:@fvrcore​@humanitysbiggestsimp​@visaintes​@pyblos​@bellesowl​​@bearri-main​@chxrry-wxne​@sugasugawarau@neomuxuxi​@crayonwriting​ @sinthxy@biancatomlinson​@noya-sannnn​@kyomihann​@tsukiibaka​@aikochan4859​@caeneri​

♡ taglist is open send an ask to be added ♡

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pairing: akaashi keiji x female reader

genre: fluff, TLFY!au

warnings: a little nsfw

word count: 1280

synopsis: on a trip to your parents’ house for akaashi to meet them, you also take a trip down memory lane as well

author’s note: chapter fourteen of ellie and i’s “the last five years” au collab. HHHHH i love this chapter, hope you enjoy it too <3

my best friend had a little situation at the end of our senior year

and like a shot, she and mitchell got married that summer

you sat in the passenger seat of akaashi’s black convertible, the wind ruining your perfectly done hair; even though your parents would probably scold you on looking so improper you couldn’t seem to care about that at all in the moment. you had your senior yearbook out, telling your boyfriend about your old friend who got knocked up in high school. 

“carolann was getting bigger literally every minute, you wouldn’t believe how huge she got, ‘kaashi! and mitchell was going out ev’ry night being a heavy-metal drummer…i mean i guess it worked out for them though, they got a little cute house on a little cute street with a crucifix on the door. oh! but mitchell got a job at a record store in the mall, so maybe not so much?” you giggled, closing the book.

just the typical facts of a typical life in a town on the eastern shore

“oh really? did you want something like that, hmm?” he asked teasingly, coming to a stop at a red light, looking at you with an eyebrow raised. 

you thought about his question, thought about what you wanted…and it wasn’t like that at all. you looked towards akaashi, shaking your head quickly, “i made carolann a cute baby sweater, thinking ‘i can do better than that!’” leaning over the center console, you grabbed your boyfriend’s pretty face in your hands and pressed a quick kiss to his soft lips. the traffic lights turned to green but he didn’t start driving again; instead, he went to go in for another kiss–well tried to before you ended up smacking him away with a laugh, telling him to start driving again.

in a year or so, i moved to the city, thinking “what have i got to lose?” 

got a room, got a cat, and got twenty pounds thinner

you sighed, looking up to the blue sky in wonder and disbelief, a wild memory of your past relationship coming to your head. “i remember, i met a guy in a class i was taking with some very well placed tattoos,” you started, rolling your eyes at the thought of him, “he wouldn’t leave me alone ‘less i went with him to dinner.”

“tell me about him, love.” the nickname akaashi had grown to give you made your stomach twist and explode with butterflies, embarrassing warmth flooding your cheeks.

“well, i guess he was cute, and i guess he was sweet, and i guess he was good in bed. i gave up my life for the better part of a year. so i’m starting to think that this maybe might work and the second it entered my head…” your head rolled to look at your lover, deadpanning, “he needed to take some time off, focus on his ‘career.’ he blew me off with a heartfeltletter! the audacity, really…but i couldn’t help but think ‘i can do better than that!’”

you don’t have to get a haircut, you dont’t have to change your shoes, you don’t have to like duran duran…just love me…

you reached your hand over to him, running your fingers through his black locks, tugging it ever so slightly. he eyed you from the corner of his eyes, looking at you curiously with a pleasured groan, “what?”

“just thinking. listen, you don’t have to put the seat down–” he snorted at your words, interrupting your intimate speech that you just came up with two seconds ago, “listen! you don’t have to watch the news, you don’t have to learn to tango. you don’t have to eat prosciutto, you don’t have to change a thing for me ‘kaashi.”

just stay with me

he drove to a private corner that wasn’t on your way to your parent’s house, pulling over and parking the car. he took off his seatbelt, looking at you with need, “get in the back, love.” a shiver ran down your spine and straight to your core at his dominant tone, immediately climbing over the chair and taking off your cardigan, watching as he got out of the car and took off his own dress shirt, jumping over the door to get to you quicker (the way his toned muscles in his arm tensed as he did so was so very intoxicating.)

his hands slid under back, fitting himself between your legs like a puzzle, leaning down to place kisses all over your jaw and neck, nipping at your skin here and there. you arched into him, a small moan escaping your lips, your nails dragging down his back. “i want you and you and nothing but you,” you breathed out, grabbing his face to look at you, “miles and piles of you. finally, i’ll have something worthwhile to think of each morning…”

you kissed him deeply, your mouth automatically opening for his access. your hands reached down to unbuckle his pants, making quick work with unbuttoning them next. he got up off of you, kicking his pants off quickly. “what else do you want, darling? i’ll give it to you, anything.” 

“you, ‘kaashi, and nothing but you.” you sat up, pushing him back down and straddling his hips as best as you could in the small car. you tugged your shirt off–luckily you did wear a skirt today so…that was easy to work with. he dove into your chest, your hands flying back up to his hair and pulling at it. you dragged your teeth along his earlobe, panting into his ear, “you’re mine. totally mine.”

i don’t need any lifetime commitments

i don’t need to get hitched tonight

you were back on the road, fixing your smudged lipstick with a smile. you stole a look at akaashi, admiring his disheveled hair and marks that you left on his neck. “like what you see?” he teased, his electrifying blue eyes narrowed at you.

“hell yeah i do.” you pinched his cheek playfully, sticking your tongue out before becoming somewhat serious again, “i don’t mean to put on any pressure, ‘kaashi, but i know when a thing is right, and i spend everyday re-configuring my senses! so when when we get to my house, take a look at that town, at how far i’ve gone. i will never go back, never look back anymore because it feels like my life led right to your side and will keep me there from now on!” 

he softly smiled at you, caressing your cheek, “i love you, y/n.”

think about what you wanted

think about what could be

think about how i love you

he pulled into your childhood neighborhood, parking his car at the curb in front of your parents’ house. before he could open his door, you grabbed onto his wrist, “say you’ll move in with me. think about it, at least. think of what’s great about me and you. think of the bullshit we’ve both been through. think of what’s past. because…we can do better than that, keiji.”

you saw him gulp when you said his actual name for the first time before breaking out into a wide grin, “love…i don’t have to think about it. let’s do it, okay? anywhere you want, as long as we are together.” 

you smiled brightly, tears springing to your eyes at his sudden acceptance, “i love you, so much. oh! there’s my parents, ah–wait you have a little bit of my lipstick on your lip, lemme help you so my mom doesn’t think bad of you…”

we can do better than that!

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♡ taglist is open send an ask to be added ♡

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pairing: akaashi keiji x female reader

genre: uhh normal (not really fluff), angst, TLFY!au

warnings: overthinker reader, arguing, cursing

word count: 1283

synopsis: your auditions seem to be getting worse and worse, you can’t help but start doubting every little thing

author’s note: chapter twelve to ellie and i’s “the last five years” au collab. this chapter is one of my favorites, i had fun writing it, enjoy <3

“when you come home to me…? i-i’ll wear a sweeter smile and hope that, for a while, you’ll–” you stopped singing when one of the casting directors put a hand up to signal for you to stop. you awkwardly smiled, “o-oh…okay, thank you…” speed walking off stage in embarrassment, you left the building quickly, pulling out your phone to call akaashi.

i’m climbing uphill, jamie

climbing uphill

you stood in a line of two hundred girls that you got up at six in the morning for. you noticed how they all seemed to be prettier than you, younger and thinner than you. hell! there was even a woman behind you who just got back from the gym…

i’m waiting five hours in line and watching the girls just coming and going

a girl walks out of the doors to the stage and you can’t help but whine internally when you see that she was wearing the exact same dress as you. so much for originality to impress the directors, huh? you look away from said girl when your number is called, a woman leading you to the stage where there’s a piano and a table full of men in front of you. 

always men–usually gay

who’ve been sitting like i have and listening all day to two hundred girls belting as high as they can

placing your bag on the floor, you grab your hand mirror out and try to hype yourself up. ‘i am a good person. i’m an attractive person. i am a talented person. grant me grace.’ you shakily exhale, snapping your mirror shut and turning to look at the middle-aged men staring at you expectantly. 

when you come home…

the pianist starts playing so you start singing, immediately second-guessing each one of your actions. should you have told them you were sick last week? oh god what if they think that’s the way you sing! why is this pianist playing so loud?? should you sing louder?? yeah, you’ll sing louder, that’s a good idea, right?

maybe i should stop and start over, i’m gonna stop and start over

your e/c eyes widen when you see one of the directors staring at his crotch, were you not more interesting than whatever he had down there?? your eyes snap over to the man next to him and shit, he’s reading your resume. don’t stare at my resume, i made up half of my resume, look at me! you beg in your mind, continuing to sing your audition song.

no! not at my shoes, don’t look at my shoes

you glance down at your feet, mentally cursing yourself for choosing these shoes. you hate these stupid shoes. why did i pick these shoes?? why did i pick this song? why did i pick this career? why does this pianist hate me? you’re freaking out about everything at this point, your hands at your side literally vibrating at this point.

if i dont get a callback i can go to crate & barrel with mom and buy a couch, not that i want to spend a day with mom

your mind travels to akaashi and while thinking of him usually calms you, you can’t help but freak out more over him. keiji needs space to write and since you’re obviously such a horrible annoying distraction to him, what’s he gonna be like when you have kids?? akaashi can’t even handle you around the house at this point so how is he going to deal with having mini-hims running around everywhere when he is trying to focus??? why are you even thinking about kids in the first place??

and once again…why am i working so hard? these are the people who cast russell crowe in a musical!

jesus christ! you shut your eyes closed, wanting to disappear from existence. this audition was going horrible and although your mouth kept going with lyrics, your thoughts only consisted of i suck i suck i suck i suck.

“when finally you come home to–”

“thanks that’s great.” one of men interrupted with a sarcastic comment, already wishing for you to get off stage. 

sighing, you bit your lip and answered, “okay, thank you…”

thank you very much

you found yourself at a library, an event being held here for akaashi to do a live reading of his book. you stood among the crowd, giving him a grin and applause whenever it was due. he stood in front of a podium, his tall form towering over it as he continued to read. he was an amazing writer, but he was an even better storyteller. the raw emotion he put behind each word sent goosebumps down your arms, his silky smooth voice pulling you in and trapping you. 

i will not be the girl stuck at home in the ‘burbs

yet despite akaashi always having a way with words that made you have your full attention on him, your mind still wandered to a different place. you know you were supposed to be here for him, proud of him but you felt frustrated somehow. you did not want to be the girl who sat still and looked pretty, with the baby, the dog, and the garden of herbs. 

i will not be the girl in the sensible shoes

pushing burgers and beer nuts and missing the clues

you hated whenever one of his fans came up to you, asking “how does it feel to be the girl trotting along at the genius’ heels?” yeah, you loved akaashi. truly, you loved him with all your heart but you were notthe girl who requires a man to get by! and you definitely were not–

applause suddenly filled your ears, making you–as if you were programmed–smile and clap for him as well. you watch as people of both genders come up to him and congratulate him on his book, introducing themselves to him. you knew they were important by the way keiji’s eyes widened and a formal smile made its way onto his face.  

akaashi and you then make eye contact from across the room, he lifts his long pointer finger up to get you to come to him, but you just grin at him and give him a thumbs up, trying to be as supportive as possible. 

next thing you know, you’re at home and you’re arguing with him, his loud angry voice filling the room as he tries to talk over you, “no! i’ve been to every one of your parties and events and the same thing happens over and over again! i’m basically your waitress for the evening–listen to me! i’m constantly being asked if i’m your publicist because everybody asks me to take photos of you with them. and these people are always asking me the same thing every single goddamn time, ‘how did you and keiji meet? what’s keiji like? where are you from? what’s your name?’ they dont remember because i’m not important, am i? nope! nobody would notice if i left, not even you akaashi! you’re always begging me to go but then you abandon and so i stand by the bar all night and i’m drinking! drink after drink after drink as i hold my purse just waiting for someone to talk to me! for you to talk to me but of course you dont even–”

“stop–stop it, stop it, y/n!” he booms, his thundering enraged voice making you flinch and back away, “just stop and listen to me! can we just, for two minutes, have a conversation where you’re not arguing with everything i say! two fucking minutes! then you can say whatever the hell you want, y/n.”

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what i want | series masterlist

gn reader | arranged marriage au | angst to fluff | warnings: divorce mention, alcohol, abusive parents, arguing

your marriage to kiyoomi was not what you imagined it would be. he hated you and you didn’t know why. with your hopes of a happy marriage dashed, you decided to leave him after just one year. the divorce papers were drawn and your bags were packed, but what he reveals makes you reconsider.

part one

part two

part three

part four (soon)

part five (soon)

what i want, part three

part one|part two | wc: 3.6k | gn reader | arranged marriage au | fluff & angst | warnings:physical/emotional abuse from parents, manipulation, intoxication.

it was almost startling how much things had changed since that confrontation three months ago. you truly meant it when you said it would be a fresh start and kiyoomi was grateful. he did his best, albeit awkwardly, to make amends for how he treated you in the past.

‘platonic marriage’ or rather, being friends with you wasn’t difficult at all, it came almost as effortlessly to him as playing volleyball. though it quickly became clear that he knew almost nothing about you, once you told him something he made sure to never forget it.

it wasn’t enough for you to not hate him, kiyoomi wanted you to like him for who he was. he had always wondered what that felt like.

kiyoomi wasn’t sure when exactly he started considering the penthouse to be home. he used to think of it as a prison, yet before he knew it, he found himself looking forward to returning to whatever you were making for dinner and the questionable music you were blasting on the speakers. he’d tell you all about his day and you did the same. he didn’t rush off to practice first thing in the morning anymore. instead, kiyoomi made breakfast for you both.

you’d tell him his green smoothies were disgusting and he’d tell you to stop drinking coffee, but he still made sure that a cup was ready for you— exactly how you like it— before he went for a run. there were many moments like that, where kiyoomi caught himself forgetting all about your circumstances. it was nice. being with you was nice, he thought.

and he wasn’t sure what came over him three weeks ago when he’d called your mother and asked her to send your belongings from your old apartment to the penthouse. your mother had been pleasantly surprised and agreed happily, even keeping him on the phone for another 45 minutes to chat. he didn’t even speak to his own parents for that long, not about anything good. he thought that was nice too.

“what’s all this?” you stared down at the boxes when they arrived.

kiyoomi rubbed the back of his neck. “well, i asked your mom to send the stuff from your old place.”

you blinked at him, clearly surprised.

“kiyoomi… i- that’s so nice of you. thank you,” you murmured.

“you live here too so… ugh it’s really not a big deal. just don’t make a mess when you put it all away, y/n.”

he had been so flustered that he walked away, completely missing the fond look on your face. why had he been embarrassed after simply doing a friendly gesture? it was the fair thing to do after all. it wasn’t like he wondered what it would be like to be surrounded by your things. or what they would look like next to his own.

“was that y/n in the stands?” atsumu, his teammate, jogged up beside him on their way to the locker room. “didn’t think i’d ever see them again.”

“i’m surprised you had time to look in the stands at all with how much you were running your mouth at our opponents,” kiyoomi replied.

“well actually~ i only noticed because i saw how you kept looking at them all night.”

kiyoomi let out a disinterested hum, ending the conversation before atsumu could pry any further. despite the teams overwhelming victory that night, kiyoomi had been on edge. just knowing that you were there had him feeling nervous on the court for the first time in years. he thought he had been more subtle about it.

kiyoomi had never been one to talk about his private affairs. all the team knew was that he had gotten married and he refused to say any more about it. they had all seen you only once before over a year ago when you attended a game with his siblings but kiyoomi didn’t introduce you. the team hadn’t even been invited to the wedding. back then, the whole arrangement only made kiyoomi resentful and he refused to talk about you, desperately wanting to keep his volleyball life separate. even though things between you two were better, he never bothered explaining it to anyone, sparing himself the headache from their endless questions.

would there even be any point in telling them? neither you nor kiyoomi knew where things would eventually lead. he still wasn’t sure about your reason for staying. did you plan on only staying for the remainder of his career? you could have left him and moved on with your life but you stayed because you probably felt sorry for him. surely you’d get tired of it eventually, right? the thought of you deciding to leave made his stomach sink. not that he would have any right to be upset if you did.

you deserved better, but he hoped you didn’t care anyway.

kiyoomi took longer than usual in the showers, trying to alleviate his nerves. the night wasn’t over for him yet, unfortunately. when he finally emerged from the locker room, he spotted you among the families and friends of the team. but much to his dismay, you were in the midst of a conversation with atsumu, who seemed to be getting a little too familiar with you.

“omi-omi!” atsumu noticed him approaching.

kiyoomi frowned as he came to a stop in front of you both.

“i was introducing myself properly to y/n. we hadn’t officially met yet thanks to someone… i was just saying how i’ve heard so much about them!”

“you haven’t,” kiyoomi’s eyes narrowed at the arm atsumu had draped around your shoulders.

atsumu grinned down at you and pointed to his teammate. “see what i have to deal with, y/n? i can never catch a break.”

"why do i get the feeling that it’s the opposite?” you joked.

something bitter swelled in kiyoomi’s throat as he watched your exchange. not that long ago, he wouldn’t have cared less about who touched you. but now, it felt strange… and wrong.

the setter reared back, feigning hurt at your words. "so that’s how it is, huh? omi, what did you tell them about me?”

“only the truth.” kiyoomi grunted before turning to you. “we have to do some interviews but it shouldn’t take long. will you be alright here?”

“yeah, i’ll be fine.” you smiled up at him. “and great job out there tonight, kiyoomi.”

a blush threatened to crawl up his neck. he would blame it on his exhaustion if you noticed. “thank you.”

now beside him, atsumu let out an exaggerated sigh. “what about me, y/n? those were my amazing sets after all.”

you playfully rolled your eyes. “i guess you were amazing out there too, miya.”

kiyoomi’s jaw ticked. amazing? seriously?

“ah, don’t be so formal! call me atsu—”

“let’s go.” kiyoomi interjected, his tone sharper than necessary.

you waved them off. “i’ll see you in a bit!”

as the two players made their way down the corridor, atsumu noticed kiyoomi’s slightly reddened face. a devilish grin spread across his lips before he nudged his grumpy teammate and turned back to you.

“y/n! make sure you come to lots of games so omi-omi can do his best for you!”

the post-victory high kiyoomi felt slowly drained from his body as he pulled into the parking lot of an extravagant restaurant. after months of excuses, he couldn’t avoid it any longer. that night you both had plans to meet his parents for dinner. unsurprisingly, they had opted not to attend his game earlier.

kiyoomi thought he did a good job of disguising his discomfort, but you quickly sensed his shift in mood. before walking inside, you gently tugged on the sleeve of his coat to bring him to a stop. he looked down at you and was almost taken aback by the concern on your face.

“kiyoomi, are you alright? we can just go home if you’re not up for this tonight.”

in that moment, kiyoomi knew that he never wanted you to leave him. the feelings he had been trying to ignore for months threatened to spill out. he couldn’t put into words how you made him feel. it was almost too much, but he didn’t want to lose it. maybe one day he’d be brave enough to tell you, but how could he after everything? he remembered the divorce papers you had drawn up, tucked away somewhere in the penthouse.

you had seen him at his cruelest, he almost drove you away in tears, and you were about to face the people that had manipulated him into your marriage in the first place. he couldn’t possibly ask any more of you. maybe things would have been different if he had given your marriage a chance, but he couldn’t think about that anymore.

kiyoomi took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, already feeling a little bit better.

“i’m fine. let’s just get this over with.“

you nodded warily.

he was grateful when you didn’t press him further. he was even more grateful when you didn’t ask why he still hadn’t let go of your hand.

it didn’t take long for kiyoomi to regret not taking you up on your offer to go home. things had begun decent enough, with the conversation flowing easily despite the tension. his father said very little as usual, busy checking business emails on his phone and nursing a glass of scotch. kiyoomi knew he should have seen it coming and cursed himself for thinking the night might end without any problems.

it all started while you were telling them about how well he had played earlier. kiyoomi smiled shyly as you recapped some of his plays, trying not to let his pride swell at your words. for a moment, he was so happy he almost forgot where he was, but his mother made sure to remind him.

"so kiyoomi,” she began, shamelessly interrupting you. “how long will you be doing that for?”

there was an awkward drawn-out silence before he replied, “what do you mean?”

“volleyball.” she said as if it were obvious. “your father and i were discussing it a while ago and we were thinking we should start considering your other options.”

kiyoomi visibly tensed at her words. next to him, you were rendered speechless, the shock on your face clear as day. kiyoomi himself wasn’t surprised in the least, but you had never seen this side of his mother before. until then, she had been almost sickeningly sweet to you. but after what kiyoomi had revealed, you were able to recognize that it had all been an act. to her, you were simply a means to an end.

“volleyball is my future, so i’m not sure what you’re getting at.” kiyoomi ground out, trying his best to keep his tone even.

his mother sighed. “be realistic, boy. you’re almost thirty now and most players retire before thirty-five with nothing else to fall back on. sure, you’ve found a little success but then what? a volleyball salary isn’t going to cut it forever. you should put that degree of yours to use sooner than later and do something meaningful with your life like your siblings.”

her every word felt like a weight on kiyoomi’s chest, squeezing the air from his lungs.

“i’ve let you carry on with this far too long. i thought that getting married would set your priorities straight but i see that it hasn’t,” she gave you a quick, disapproving glance. “i’m not asking you to retire today, but i’ll need you to start meeting with your father twice a week to learn the business and then—”

“and then what?”hespat.“i’ll do as you say, and then you’ll just find some other part of my life to manipulate? until i’m good enough?”

as he stared into his mother’s eyes, kiyoomi saw nothing. her face conveyed neither concern nor guilt. she only stared back at him as if he were nothing but a stranger speaking to her about the weather. it didn’t matter what he did, kiyoomi realized. she would never be proud of him for who he was. she would never see him as her son who worked hard his whole life to achieve his dreams. try as he might, kiyoomi couldn’t allow himself to ignore the reality of the situation any longer. to her, he was still a mistake that needed to be corrected.

“i know you never wanted me. so just do us both a favor and forget that i exist.”

for over an hour, you drove up and down every street surrounding the restaurant searching for kiyoomi before deciding to return to the penthouse. it was your last hope since you had no way of reaching him. in his rush to leave, kiyoomi had left behind his jacket containing his phone and car keys. you were so worried that you even called his cousin, komori, and begged him to tell you if he heard from kiyoomi.

you didn’t mean to cry, but the adrenaline from your outrage had worn off and you didn’t know what to do. you regretted not immediately going after him. instead, back at the restaurant, your feet had been planted in front of the table as you glowered at his mother.

“what is wrong with you? he’s your son!”

unaffected by your words, she raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“darling, don’t overstep.”

you were losing your composure.“you have no right to—”

“oh! i see what this is. have you deluded yourself into thinking he’d love you? you poor thing. the reality is that kiyoomi has always been a selfish little boy. as long as he can play that little game- he’ll use you until he has nothing left to gain from it.”

her words stung but you refused to give her the reaction she wanted.

“you should be more appreciative. i put you where you are, you would do well to remember that, y/n.”

not giving yourself a chance to reconsider, you swiftly lifted a wine glass off the table and threw its contents in her face.

under different circumstances, the way her expression became deadly in a mere second might have chilled you to the bone.

“you’re a pathetic excuse for a mother. i almost feel sorry for you.”

her tirade of insults sounded throughout the restaurant as you made your exit. you didn’t bother to listen, the only thing on your mind was getting to kiyoomi.

when you finally arrived back home, you were relieved to find his oxfords carelessly discarded in the entryway.

“kiyoomi?”

after no response, you began making your way through each room, cursing how needlessly big the penthouse was. when he wasn’t in the kitchen, master bedroom, or even his training room, you started to panic. had he gone back out before you arrived? as you raced back toward the elevator, you noticed a light down the hall. there was only one other room you hadn’t checked.

after clearing the air months ago, you moved into the guest room, feeling slightly awkward about continuing to share a room with kiyoomi. he was hesitant about your decision and insisted that you take the larger room but you refused. if you were being honest, a large part of you didn’t want to stay in that room because it would only remind you of what never was. you needed the distance.

to your surprise, kiyoomi was splayed across your bed on his back, polishing off a bottle of liquor you suspected was from your old stash. he looked a mess. his previously styled hair was in disarray, shirt untucked from his slacks, and his tie almost completely undone around his neck.

you let out a sigh of relief. “thank god you’re okay,”

he said nothing as you made your way inside and sat down. his eyes remained fixated on the ceiling.

“you know, i think we should consider getting a smaller place.” you tried to joke.

kiyoomi looked over at you then, his eyes softening briefly before he turned away again.

“i’m sorry for leaving you at the restaurant,” he said slowly.

“it’s okay. i was really worried about you.”

“i didn’t mean to… what happened was—”

“you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” you stopped him as he struggled with his words.

there was so much you wanted to ask him. why was his mother so cold to him? what did he mean when he said that she didn’t want him? and what would she do now that he didn’t want anything to do with her? did he mean what he said? but it wasn’t the time for any of that. you were just glad he was home.

neither of you said anything for a long time but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable like it used to be. it was almost peaceful. as if both of you understood that proximity was enough. you wondered if it would remain that way for the rest of the night before kiyoomi spoke again.

“my mother… she used to always tell me that i was lucky to even be born. my parents didn’t want any more kids but then i came along. i was nothing like my siblings. i tried to be for a long time. but when i decided that i wanted to pursue volleyball, everything got worse. i told my mother and she slapped me right across the face. it was like i had betrayed them. they were so angry at me and i couldn’t understand why. i loved volleyball instead of what they chose for me. was that so bad? for them to do all this? to hate me?

"i thought that i had finally convinced them that they could be proud of me when i went pro but of course they weren’t.” he chuckled bitterly. “when i got silver at the olympics, it was like that was the last straw for them. they married me off and put me in this penthouse so i could at least keep up the appearance of a responsible and successful son. what a joke.”

horrified at his words, you bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from crying. you knew the last thing kiyoomi wanted was for you to feel sorry for him. but you didn’t feel sorry for him, you loved him. you loved him and hated everything he had gone through with his family.

though you tried to get rid of any lingering feelings for him over the past few months, they only returned a little more every day. with each meal you shared and every little moment together, it was easy to forget it all. but you were only there to help him now, nothing more. you knew he didn’t want more and it was painful. some days the reality of your situation hurt so much you wondered if you should have left after all… but you knew that you would have regretted that even more.

noticing your watery eyes, kiyoomi sat up. “hey, what’s wrong?”

“nothing, i’m fine,” you squeezed your eyes shut, accidentally letting a few tears escape. “shit. sorry. i’m just—”

your eyes shot open when you felt two large hands on either side of your face. kiyoomi was looking back at you with glazed, almost pained eyes. “i wish you didn’t have to see that. don’t cry for me or my family. it’s not worth it, y/n.”

“you are though.” you held his gaze even as more tears fell. “we’re in this together remember? i’m glad i was there with you. and i’m glad you can talk to me about it. i don’t want you to have to keep it all in all the time. i care about you… so much.”

kiyoomi’s eyes seemed to intensify and he opened his mouth to speak but closed it just as fast. suddenly, his face was inching closer to yours. you froze. was he going to…?

your panic quickly subsided when kiyoomi’s hands fell from your face and his body slumped against yours, his face landing right against your chest.

“k-kiyoomi?” you spluttered, quickly gripping his shoulders to keep him from completely falling onto you.

he groaned but still didn’t move. “fuck, my head…sorry…i’m slightly more inebriated than i thought.”

you exhaled slowly, unsure if you were more relieved or disappointed. but you were glad you hadn’t said too much at least. when kiyoomi started feeling heavier, you carefully slid off the bed and helped him lay down properly.

“alright stay here, drunky, i’ll be right back. and don’t fall asleep.”

you returned from the kitchen a moment later and made him drink an entire bottle of water. “lay on your side in case you puke later.”

“i never puke, that’s gross.” he giggled. the liquor had clearly caught up with him by then. you briefly wished you were devious enough to record him in his current state.

kiyoomi was softly snoring almost immediately after his head met your pillows. you couldn’t help but smile down at him and before you could stop yourself, your hand made its way to his face, softly wiping at the dried tear stains on his cheek. he had been crying before you found him.

“it’ll all be okay, kiyoomi. i promise.” your fingers were in his hair now, gently carding through his curls.

“…imnahgonna…”you froze when he began to stir, but he remained asleep, even letting out a content sigh when you resumed.

after twenty minutes, you were sure he was out for the night and wouldn’t need any more help. carefully, you draped a blanket over him and got up to exit the room.

as you opened the door, kiyoomi began mumbling again but his words came out clearer.

“…i know i’m not good enough…” he slurred. “…but i don’t want them to leave me…”

confused at his words, you paused. you wondered if he was referring to his parents.

“who?”

“y….y/n…”

he was talking about you? leaving?

“kiyoomi, i don’t understand,” you said softly. “do you need more wat-”

“…i know it’s too late…

but i love them…”

A/N: uhh this wasn’t supposed to be over 3k words and i have no self-control i’m sorry (;﹏;) but i didn’t take two months to finish a part this time!! i really struggled with this part though because i wanted to include how y/n and kiyoomi adapted to their new arrangement, kiyoomi’s complicated feelings for y/n, introduce his parents, and set them up for the ending without rushing everything. i already have a bonus chapter in my drafts and part four isn’t even started yet yikes…

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TALES OF LOVE ❥ CHAPTER 2: SIMPLES WISHES, SWEET KISSES

✎MASTERLIST|PREVIOUS |NEXT

✎ summary: The year 2022 started great for Y/N L/N; an author with over six bestselling books all over the world. Her series, “Tales of Love,” has received an overwhelmingly huge amount of praise from fans and even critics. Despite all of her current achievements, she can’t help but feel like she’s lying to everyone—as she never really experienced the concept of love firsthand. Life circles back at her when she suddenly wakes up in all of her written books; learning what love truly is one by one.

✎ note: scratches head… I KNOW IT TOOK REALLY LONG IM SORRY T_T ive been so busy </3 BUT HI THIS IS CHAPTER 2 PLS ENJOY!!!! also heavily unedited </3 reblogs and comments are well appreciated >_<

After the three-lettered word left your mouth, Kenma briskly inserted the ring on your finger, his golden eyes holding mischief beneath them. You hear bystanders around you applaud and cheer you two on, unaware that the engagement was a mere act—an act to receive five free desserts.

Kenma settled back to his seat and wiped his scripted tears away, a smirk now covering his face. If he weren’t a photographer, he could’ve been an actor, you muse. He leans towards you, cupping a hand to your cheek, “They believed us, right?

You lose yourself to the sound of his voice; very dreamy-like. 

Dreams are stories our minds create while we find ourselves in deep slumber. Each blurring memories of these dreams are unique in their own way. And to you, Kozume Kenma is a dream so near yet so far. A dream come true. His existence is a wish you’ve always whispered softly in thin air before sleeping, and now that you have a chance to be with him, you can’t help but indulge in this time-limited dream. 

“Definitely,” you nod, eyes crinkling whilst staring at him. Who can blame you though? He’s just that pretty. From the corner of your eye, you see a waiter approach your table. “…And there he goes.”

“Bingo,” Kenma shakes his head, chuckling. He brings his hand down under the table, aiming for a fistbump. You return his fistbump, excited—maybe too excited.

The waiter with the name tag that reads “Makki” now stands before your table, a friendly smile greeting the two of you. “Congratulations on you two! We can sense the love even before this fine man proposed,” Makki beams, you raise a brow at Kenma, he shrugs. Makki hands you and the faux blond a fancy envelope. “In our restaurant, we have a special promo for couples who get engaged here, granting them five free desserts.”

Oh, we know, you wanted to comment. That’s why we’re here.

You share a glance with Kenma before you look down to open your envelope, a pink card with the different desserts printed on them. Your eyes spot your favorite desserts and immediately let Makki know your orders, he nods, smiling as he listens to you.

“I would want the apple pie and the tiramisu, please,” Kenma hands the envelope back to Makki. The waiter jots both of your orders down, before opening his mouth to speak again. “Oh, and can the apple pie be sliced in parts?” 

Makki nods, “Yup.”

“I’ll have it sliced please.” Kenma smiles, “Thank you.”

“You two still have one more dessert left! Since you both ordered two each,” Makki brings up, his pointer raised. You chuckle, nodding understandingly. Kenma hums softly, eyes focused on you and you only. 

If he keeps staring at me like that, I’ll fucking melt! Melt like the ice creams offered in this restaurant! You scream inside your head, face hot at the golden eyes that continue to pierce right through you.

“What would you like, love?” Kenma’s silky voice rings through your ears, while you bite your lips, now feeling shy. “Would you like a taiyaki or the banana split more?”

“I’m good with any,” you answer him. “You can choose what you want more though!”

“Mhm… okay. Got it,” He nods, now looking back to Makki. “We’ll get the taiyaki, please. And - uh, we’d like the desserts to be taken out? Is that’s okay?”

Makki gives him a thumbs-up, and Kenma lets out a relieved sigh. “Okay, okay… good! We have to be somewhere since I’m planning to bring my special lady somewhere,” he continues to blabber to the friendly waiter. You quirk a brow, lost. I don’t recall writing a scene like this in the book? Are these characters just… acting in their own volition? Do they actually have a life outside the books?

“Thank you! And congrats to you two once again!” Makki chimes in, taking the other envelope from you. You return his friendly smile thanking him, on the other hand, Kenma scratches his head, flustered.

The “somewhere” that Kenma wanted to bring you to was where the park that the two supposed main characters met when they were little. Now as you stand before the place you’ve written, you can’t help but agree on how magical it was. It wasn’t grand in any way, but it was just enough to create a lasting memory for a lifetime. 

“I wanted to bring you here because we could eat the desserts peacefully,” Kenma bites his lip, avoiding your eyes. It was unbelievable how he effortlessly managed to capture your heart; may it be through written words or him standing right in front of you, hitting an arrow through your heart. He sits down on the left side of the swings, you take the one at the right. “And… erm… I wanted to hang out with you here.”

With your feet planted on the ground, you sway your swings slowly. Your movements create soft sounds with the squeak of the swings and the repeating contact of your sneakers to the pebbles. Kenma stays put whilst holding a brown paper bag, his gaze as sweet as the desserts that filled the bag.

“Was this just an excuse to be with me?” You tease him, now looking at the blond with cheeks as red as a strawberry. “Don’t worry Kenma, I feel the same. Now let’s eat! Let’s eat the taiyaki first, yeah?”

“Just like old times?” He voices out his question, words floating in thin air. 

You slice the brief silence with your reply, “Just like old times.”

Technically, you have never experienced what he was talking about, but you’re somehow familiar with it. Similar to your relationship with the phenomenon of love; it was familiarly unknown.

Kenma hands you the fish-shaped cake first, you take it gratefully in your hands. You take a bite, while you watch him take his own and place the paper bag on his lap. Clutching your sling bag, you search for your phone, wanting to know how much time you have left to stay here. You didn’t want to be reminded of how limited your time is with him, but you had no choice - you had to be aware.

3:00:00,it showed in red. Your brows furrowed in confusion, why was it different this time? Does this mean that I get to stay with him for three more hours? Holy shit. You shut your phone off and put it back inside your bag. 

“Ken, what time is it?” You ask him, while he quirks a brow. 

“Didn’t you just check your phone?” 

“My phone just died,” you answer him lamely, lying.

He shrugs, “Hm… it’s 9:00 PM right now.”

Three more hours.

When the clock strikes 12, you meet the deadline of your almost fairytale-like yet time-limited experience. You were Cinderella to this story; magically gifted a chance by some luck plucked in the universe, but you were still unsure if you’d actually be given a happy ending.

When the clock strikes 12, will time be kinder?

When the clock strikes 12, will time stop?

But as you gaze at the billions of stars found in Kenma’s golden eyes, maybe everything is worth it. You were given this chance once in a lifetime, it was better to make use of it before the time runs out.

“It’s still a bit early,” you avert your gaze to the sky. The stars in his eyes were brighter. “But I want to ask you something, Ken…” You hear him hum, “What do you think about love?”

“What’s this all about?” He chuckles, you feel your face get hot in embarrassment. “Kidding. Uh… love is hard to define and to be honest, I’m still trying to figure out my own definition for it. So for now, uh… love is hard to define, yeah—yup.”

Before you could open your mouth, you hear an unfamiliar voice boom behind you two. Turning around, your eyes widen at the sight of the tall man with messy jet-black bed hair and a grin tilted slightly sidewards. Kuroo Tetsurou; another childhood friend of the two main characters—and in this case, you were now one of the main characters.

“Hey, guys!” He walks to you and Kenma, his eyes shift from you to the blond. He also notices the sheepish smile plastered on your face and the blush that covers Kenma’s cheeks. Kuroo’s mouth twitches in mischief, “Did I interrupt something here?”

Kenma rolls his eyes, “You did.”

Your eyes blink in surprise, shocked at how blunt his response was. Well, you did write his character to be this way, but you were still caught off guard. Kuroo places his hands on his hips, lips now pouting. “Oh shit… really? Well, I was looking around for you! Someone went to your studio but it was closed earlier, they wanted to sched a photoshoot.”

“You could’ve texted me though?” Kenma asks his friend, holding out his phone to Kuroo. The taller man sighs dramatically, exclaiming how he did text him multiple times, but Kenma answered zero of them. Kenma whistles, “Oops.”

“Yeah, sure, oops!” Kuroo imitates the expression on Kenma’s face tauntingly, then, his eyes spot the paper bag with the restaurant’s logo and littered with pink heart stamps on Kenma’s lap. He crosses his arms, smirking, “You two went on a date?” 

“You could call it that,” You waggle your brows. “Want some, Tetsu?”

“Fuck yeah!” Kuroo pumps his hands in the air, Kenma shakes his head before giving him a taiyaki. He takes it with a grin, before seating on the slide that was a few feet away from the swings. “Wait… isn’t this the dessert at the expensive ass restaurant downtown?”

Sharing a glance with Kenma, you wink at Kuroo. “Yup, we acted like a couple getting engaged to get free desserts. Since there’s a free Valentine’s day—more like a month—special.”

“Holy fuck! This is genius… finessing the system, huh?” Kuroo slaps his thighs, shaking in laughter. He turns to Kenma, “So you also got a fake engagement ring to get engaged or something?”

Kenma looks away, flustered at the question. “I used my grandma’s old engagement ring.”

Eyeing the beautiful silver ring that adorned your ring, your heart melts at how shy Kenma has gotten and how endearing he was. Kuroo hums, a genuine smile now playing on his lips. You knew that it was his grandma’s ring, you also knew the reason why he gave it. Why wouldn’t you when you practically know him by hand—no, literally.

“Didn’t your mom say to give it to a person you—”

“Finish that and I’ll strangle you alive,” Kenma grits out, cutting Kuroo off. The smirk on Kuroo’s face returns and his brows wiggle suggestively to his childhood friend. You chuckle, shaking your head. I mean, I know the reason why either way. I literally wrote the story. 

Time passes by like a breeze, and Kuroo bids goodbye to the two of you. Before he left, he shared the stories of his mini-adventures with the new little frog he befriended a few days ago. He named the frog, “Hoppy Scotchy.” Kenma made a snide remark on how he thought Kuroo would name the frog “Bogart” because, for him, Kuroo tends to give “ugly” names to basically anything and everything. 

Kenma and you remain on the swings, eating the other desserts you got from the expensive restaurant.

He takes a bite of his apple pie, which was thankfully sliced by his request, and his eyes fixate on the stars.

“If I were to actually propose, I want it to be somewhere special,” Kenma cuts the tranquil silence with his words. “That’s one of the wishes I want to fulfill in life, I guess..”

He turns to you, eyes brighter than the stars decorated in the sky. But if you were to compare him between the stars and moon, you’d choose the latter. There are many stars in the universe, but the moon—she’s incomparable. 

That’s how Kenma is in the scope of your lens.

When people say they’re over the moon, it’s a way to say how ecstatic they are. And every encompassing minute with him is just filled with utter bliss and comfort. He’s exceptionally bright and he’s hopelessly unaware of it.

“Mhm, like where?”

“Uh… a place where we both met, perhaps?” He shrugs, swallowing the bite he took. His cheeks redden like apples, “For instance, if I were to really propose to you, I’d do it here. Here in this playground. Not just because I prefer privacy, but I also treasure intimacy. Y’know?”

“That’s true and it’s very like you.” With a gentle smile reaching your eyes, you hum softly. “I feel like public proposals can only happen successfully when the couple talks about their plans and all, like for example, marriage. I fucking hate it when they only propose publicly just to pressure their partner to say yes on the spot. Like? How low can you be?!”

Kenma’s chuckle rings through the empty night. “Right? And it’s always the men who do it too.”

“I know!” You roll your eyes, grumbling. “Men are so fucking annoying.”

“Agreed.”

A few moments of silence pass by, the night breeze kissing both of your skins. You estimate to have an hour left before your time runs out. Wanting to savor the company of Kenma, you cling to your words.

“Hey, Ken?”

“Yeah?” He takes another bite of his beloved apple pie, cheeks full. You had to contain the urge to pinch his cheeks right there and then. He’s so fucking cute, what the fuck! Can’t I just keep him?! 

You bite your lip while deep in thought. You open your mouth and hesitate - the words you wanted to say wouldn’t come out. They remain to be an unspoken fate. Maybe another time, then. “Nothing, nothing.”

I want to stay here with you, but I can’t.

Kenma raises a brow, “You sure? You look like you’re thinking hard of something.”

Wrapping your arms to your body, you nod assuringly. You were unsure if you were assuring him or the seas of uncertainty swimming inside you. “Yeah, I’m good. Don’t worry.”

“You denying it worries me even more, but I won’t push you to say anything.” Kenma replies, now folding the paper bag close. “Just know that I’m always here, yeah?”

“Yeah, I know you will be.”

But I’m unsure if I’ll always be there for you, Kenma.

“Do you want to stay over tonight?” His question holds the universe tight in his hold. He gives you a cheeky wink, “Stay over the night, my fiancée?”

It wouldn’t hurt if you cherish this moment a little longer, wouldn’t it? 

“I’d love to, my fiancé.“

After all, you’re only given a limited amount of time.

The next time you wake up, you’re sprawled over your floor. Your wall clock beams the time annoyingly, 9:08 AM. Almost ten hours after your encounter with Kenma. Before you drifted to a deep slumber, you remember sharing the bed with him. The parallels never lie, they tell the tales of your universes; so similar yet apart - never intersecting. 

“I could’ve at least gotten a memory of my night with him,” you groan, now sitting up straight. Rubbing your drowsy eyes, you yawn tiredly. Your eyes scan your apartment, nothing out of the ordinary, that was until you saw the same paper bag of the restaurant from last time. Kicking your legs, you stand up—well, wobble. 

“Holy fucking shit?!” Your hands take a hold of the paper bag, placed neatly on your dining table. Quickly opening it, you were met with the only dessert left, an apple pie—Kenma’s favorite. You also catch sight of another folded paper. “It’s them again, isn’t it?”

“Good morning, Y/N!

We figured that you’d want a memory of last night so when you “transported” back to your universe, we brought along this lonesome apple pie and the ring Kenma gave you. You’re welcome in advance. And yes, we predicted you squealing right now. And no, we can’t read minds. 

Anyway, we forgot to mention that whenever you’re not in the other characters’ universe, time resumes normally. There are versions of you floating around there as well but don’t worry, they don’t really have consciousness - they’re just there to fill in the blanks while you’re away. 

That’s it for now. Enjoy! 

P.S. Kenma put a long pillow between the two of you only for him to push it aside while he was sleeping. Then proceeded on hugging you, thinking it was his pillow.

— EVOL.”

You shake your head, feeling your cheeks heat up. Of course, Kenma would do that, it’s very “Kenma” of him to do so. Biting down your lips to stop the huge grin from breaking free, you place the folded paper back in the paper bag. 

“I’ll eat it later.”

You were in fact, not able to eat the apple pie. 

For the past few days, you contemplated whether or not you should eat it. You could’ve returned to Kenma’s universe, but it felt unfair for the other characters because you haven’t met them yet. So you were stuck with a three-day-old apple pie and wasted chances from meeting the other characters.

Today, you decided to change that.

(You also decided to throw out the apple pie and keep the paper bag instead.)

You were ready to face Suna Rintarou, after all. He’s the main character in your 4th book, “Mic Drop.” Rintarou is an underground rapper with high ambitions. He’s basically a Chaste Atlantic song personified. If you were being completely honest, he was one of the most interesting characters you’ve ever written. With a hard exterior presented to everyone around him but showing a soft interior to people he holds dear to his heart, there was something unexplainable about him.

“Ludus,” your voice whispers through thin air, eyes closing tightly. You should get used to this, but every time, you get a bit nauseous. 

Sounds of children squealing greet your ears: “Mommy, she ate my food!” “Daddy, can we buy more food?!” “I want the unicorn back!” Your eyes open abruptly, only to stand in front of a Primary School. The red gate caging you outside.

What the fuck? Am I in the right universe? You sigh in exasperation, You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Y/N-ie?” A voice says while you feel a soft tug on your skirt. Looking down, you’re met with a cute girl with pigtails. Her big eyes look up to you with a few tears leaking, making it glassy. Your heart immediately breaks at the upset look she plastered on her face. “The boys in my class made fun of my new bag…”

“They did? How rude of them!” You were unsure of who this child is but you picked her up in your arms. Her bag drops on the floor with a loud thud. While you coo at her, your mind reels back to who this can possibly be in the 4th book. 

What if she’s mistaken me for someone else? But she seems to know me though? Fuck, I can’t just ask for her name, she might cry even more if I “forgot” about her.

Eyeing her heart-shaped bag, you see her nametag spell out: “Rinako.” Your mouth opens in familiarity, now remembering who she is—Rintarou’s younger sister. You’ve written him down to be protective of his sister and have a soft spot for her. 

“They even said that it’s ugly and so girly because it’s pink,” she sniffles out. “I got mad at them because this is the bag Rinnie gave me for my birthday. I don’t get why they have to be so mean about it…”

“They said it’s ugly?!” Your words unexpectedly fly out with no filter, coming across as a loud exclaim. She nods, resting her chin on your shoulder while her arms hug your neck. “You know what’s ugly? Their behavior! And besides, colors have no gender!”

“Brother told me the—the same thing,” Rinako whispers out. You feel her wipe her tears with her smaller hands, “He even told me that… that pink is such a cool color that’s why it’s the color of his mic for when he per—performs.”

You pat her back lightly before you crouch down to take her school bag. It was a cute and simple bag, pink and heart-shaped, medium in size. It was also outlined with holographic glitter, a small teddy bear keychain dangling on its side. 

“When I see those mean fu—bullies, I mean,” You corrected yourself before you could curse. She sniffles a bit. “When I see them I’ll avenge you Rinako! Trust me!”

“Thank you, Y/N-ie!” She snuggles even more in your warmth.

“…Hey Rina, where are we supposed to go again?”

“Um… back home?”

“Can you tell me the directions, your Y/N-ie kind of forgot…”

After Rinako teaches you the way back, which was, by the way, a 40-minute walk from the school since you had to enter the village where they reside. You even suggested going to an ice cream shop to rest for a bit because your legs badly wanted to give up. The two of you now finally stand in front of their house. It was a huge modern house, white in color and accented with beige.

I forgot they were rich.

“I’m sorry for making us walk today Y/N-ie,” Rinako apologizes as she welcomes you inside. You gawk at the sight of the high ceilings and the painted portraits of each Suna family member propped on the white walls. “Normally, our driver would pick me up but he called in sick. Mom, dad, and Rinnie are busy with their work too.”

You smile, “It’s fine, we were able to eat ice cream while doing so, yeah? We had fun!”

Rinako grins, nodding, her pigtails moving with each movement. “I’ll prepare you a tea party because you deserve it!”

“No, no, it’s okay!”

“I insist, Y/N-ie!” She waves your objections aside. She’s just like her brother; stubborn beyond comparison. You smile at their similarities, it was nice seeing firsthand the characters that were mere words come to life. Her gray eyes sparkled in delight, “Let’s go upstairs in my room!”

You follow her as she leads you through their splendid central staircase. As your feet lead you up, you admire the woodwork done to the staircase, Rinako babbles about her new teacup set. You pull your phone out of your sweatpants’ pocket and check how much time you have left. Indicated in red text, the screen blares 10:00:00. 

Holy shit, I have so much time left? Your eyes widen, Where the fuck is Rintarou though?!

“Here we are!” Rinako pushes her dark wooden door open, a grin plastered on her face. You two enter and you can’t help but admire everything around here. It astonished you, they really were rich. “Y/N-ie seat over the pink couch first and I’ll wash our teacups first!”

“Let me help, Rina—” She shakes her head, pointing at her pink couch. You know you couldn’t convince her further, she wouldn’t follow you either. “Okay, fine.”

Taking a seat on her pink leather couch, you sigh in relaxation. You let your feet finally rest, it was a tiring 40-minute walk anyway, who could blame you. You watch Rinako take her teacup set in one of her cabinets and scurry inside her bathroom. 

“Hey Rina, where’s Rintarou again?”

“He’s in a meeting with Mom and Dad!” She yells her answer from the bathroom, her voice echoing. “He said he’ll come here right after their meeting though!”

“M’kay!”

You unlock your phone and scroll through your apps, but to your surprise, the social media accounts you owned in your universe were gone. The other you stared back at you, as her smile beams at each photo as you scroll through her accounts. 

“There are versions of you floating around there as well but don’t worry, they don’t really have consciousness - they’re just there to fill in the blanks while you’re away.”

It saddened you in a way that you didn’t understand why.

The next few minutes consisted of you playing a random puzzle game, and as you were about to ask Rinako if she was done washing her teacup set, a text message from Rintarou notified you. Your eyes widen, a bit giddy at his text. You didn’t even meet him yet but you’re here smiling like a fool.

[4:43 PM] Rin:babe, i’ll come home in a few hours!! enjoy your time with rina, okay? we’ll go out after, i love you.

[4:44 PM] Rin:P.S. in my room, there’s a dress i bought you last night. wear that for me later okay, pretty? 

You type a reply and send it quickly, smiling. Rinako walks back with her washed porcelain teacup and sets it down on the floor. Your eyes widen remembering that it was an expensive Hermes set. You knew because you owned one as well, a gift from Kenji last year. She hums at you while she sets two cups down, “Do you want chamomile or echinacea tea, Y/N-ie?”

“Any that you want, Rina, I’m good with any.” You answer her, she nods. She gets up on her feet once again and walked over to take two tea bags, and turn on the kettle to heat up some water. You watch her go back and sit down on the floor.

“You’re really good at managing the tea and stuff, do you do this often?” Your question makes her eyes crinkle in delight while she gives you a thumbs-up.

“Yup! Rinnie and I like to make tea a lot, we like to do it when we bond!” Rinako flashes you her toothy grin, “He taught me a lot about a lot of stuff… He’s the best big brother ever!”

“Ever?”

“Yep,” she bobs her head up and down. She leans closer to you, “Don’t tell him this but he talks about you like all the time! Rinnie goes all heart-eyes for you, Y/N-ie, I swear!”

Your eyes crinkle at her revelation. Before she could say another word to expose her brother, the kettle whistles, its sound echoing through the room. Rinako stands up and takes the kettle carefully, two spoons in her other hand. She stalks back to your spot and settles down on the floor across from you.

You watch her place a teabag in each teacup and then carefully pour the scorching water inside. She cuts you off right away when she sees you open your mouth, probably to whine about how you weren’t able to help. She was right.

“Let me do this for you, Y/N-ie! It’s just fair because I tired you out earlier,” she explains with a pout. “Anyway, I have more stories about Rinnie, specifically embarrassing ones—”

The door to Rinako’s room opens with a tall figure trailing behind it. Suna Rintarou stands with a hand on his hip and a brow raised, lips formed in an amused smirk: “Embarrassing stories about me?”

Rinako groans, “Rinnie, go away! Can’t you see Y/N-ie and I hanging out?” She stirs your tea slowly, before handing it out to you. You take it gratefully and place it back on the floor. You can’t help but divert your attention to her brother instead.

If Kozume Kenma was your dream come true, then for Suna Rintarou, you are the epitome of all of his dreams combined. You are the dream he can forever succumb to in rose-tinted and cloudy skies. 

“I can clearly see that,” Suna rolls his eyes, now closing the door. He walks to you two, plopping himself on Rinako’s bed. He takes a bunny plushie and hugs it in his chest. “But Y/N and I are gonna hang out tonight! And besides, she’s my girlfriend, don’t steal her away from me!”

A goofy grin breaks out from your lips as you look at him. Rinako sticks a tongue out at her older brother, shaking her head. “Nope, she’s staying with me!”

“Y/N and I are going out later!” Suna pouts, he turns to look at you with puffed cheeks. “Right, babe?”

Your eyes flicker from his grayish-yellow eyes down to his lips. You slap a hand on your face, causing Rinako and Suna to stare at you. He clears his throat before you answer, stumbling through your words. “Um - uh, yeah! Yeah. Sorry.”

Fuck, he’s so… holy shit.

Suna chuckles, shaking his head. You couldn’t help but admire his eyes, his lips, his voice—everything. Everything about Suna Rintarou was intoxicating; it was as if he was some type of drug you needed to consume daily because you feel like, without him, you were incomplete. A pill crushed in pieces, if you may.

“Babe, you okay?” He asks you, now concerned. He couldn’t help but wonder why you were acting so ditzy. “Do you have a headache? Bellyache?”

Now, this is a problem you’re yet to face more in the future: from all the characters, Suna was very keen. He’d see right through you if you lied to his face. And knowing that you aren’t his actual girlfriend, you’re bound to make a mistake or two. 

“This is all your fault, Rinnie!” Rinako points an accusing finger to Suna with furrowed eyes. “She was doing okay earlier, this is all your fault!”

“Why is it my fault?!”

“I dunno! I’m blaming you just because I can!”

The two siblings argue for a few more minutes until you have had enough. You let out a loud sigh, making them stop and turn their heads back at you. “Guys, I’m okay… okay? If you continue to fight, my head will actually hurt this time.”

They nod slowly, listening to you. 

You were fine, really, just overwhelmed about your current situation. Everything happening to you lately is just actually bizarre.

“Let me hang out with Y/N-ie more before you two leave for later!” Rinako begs with a pout. Suna lets out a dramatic sigh, “Okay, fine!”

“We’ll leave later, pretty.” Suna stands up from the bed, before crouching down and planting a kiss on your forehead. Your cheeks heat up, giddy. He sing-songs, “Can’t wait for later tonight!”

“I’d like to dedicate this song to my girlfriend!” Suna yells through his pink mic, eyes eagerly meeting yours. The sound of the crowd’s loud cheers echoes in the bar, hearing some of them coo at how romantic their beloved rapper “Ludus” was. The spotlight aims at his tall frame, colors of red, blue, and violet alternating. “She’s right here, actually!”

As Suna points his finger to where you were currently seated, at one of the booths on the right of the bar, the spotlight follows your direction. You grimace at the intensity of brightness of the light and at the eyes that followed suit. After you get used to it, you flash them a smile.

The lights here hurt my eyes so much, you groan internally. I can’t be a celebrity like this - I have to train myself more. Kidding, I already am a celebrity. Maybe, I don’t know.

“I’m not someone who usually sings but tonight is an exception,” He chuckles. Suna looks to his left and nods, “Hit it!”

The Miya twins start playing their respective instruments; Osamu on the drums and Atsumu with the electric guitar. Ojiro Aran salutes and trails his fingers on his bass. After a few movements, the intro of “Die for You” by The Weeknd starts playing through their instruments.

You sway your body to the music, enjoying the richness of Suna’s voice. His deep voice complimented the song and he interpreted the lyrics effortlessly as well. You didn’t understand why he wouldn’t sing more often when he’s that fucking good.

“The distance and the time between us, it’ll never change my mind, ‘cause baby I’ll die for you.” Suna sings, his eyes trained on you and you only. Feeling shy, you close your eyes and smile. He was great at making you feel like you were the only person in the world. In fact, he was a natural at that.

While Suna continues to sing, an unfamiliar voice slices through your busy thoughts.

“Hello, can I take a seat here?” 

You open your eyes and an ash blond guy smiles at you. A friendly smile plastered all over his face, he looks at the empty space in front of you. He scratches his head, “Um - uh, can I? I’m really sorry, all the seats are packed and yeah…”

“Sure, no worries.”

Suna from the stage sees this exchange between you and the guy. It wasn’t just any guy though, it was his biggest rival, Semi Eita, known for his rapper name “E-Dream.” 

For Suna, you’re his dreams all combined. But with Semi Eita in the picture, he can’t help but feel all of his dreams be crushed.

LET ME KNOW WHAT U THINK!!!!!! ISTG ILL UPDATE SOONER IM JUST RLY BUSY LATELY BUT YEAH </3 ILY ALL AND YES HOPE U ENJOYED READING!!!!!!!!!

PLAYBOY - PART THREE

– in which second year inarizaki student miya atsumu wants to make a girl jealous. you were his best bet at doing just that.

a/n: omg?? part three?? already?? its been a wild ride. big big thank you’d to lay, leaf, and isa for the beta reads. yall really made my night. another quick thank you to all the people reading this lil idea of mine, it means more than i could ever express. youre all lovely. 

genre: fluff. its fluff.

warnings: atsumu expresses a lil bit of insecurity but hes not very deep about it.

word count: 2376 

enjoy!!

“Chamomile? I don’t want you to be too tired though.”

“Do you have any cranberry? I like putting a lot of sugar in it so it just tastes like juice.” Atsumu’s flirtatious nature wore down to its bare essentials: wide smiles, nonsensical behavior, and base levelgoodness. 

“I don’t think that’s,” you paused, wondering how this all happened. Wondering why he was in your home, sitting at a kitchen table, tapping his fingers insistently on the wooden tabletop. Wondering how the last fifteen minutes even came to be. “Sure, okay.”

After your proposal, he wiped his face and followed you, speaking at length on anything that came into his head. He was very spontaneous by nature, and would go on a small tangent about anything, even between deeper topics. 

“Samu’s always been slightly better than me. Whether with people or at volleyball or whatever. He just wins. Maybe it made me subconsciously think I’m worse.” He dragged behind you roughly three steps, holding your hand like a lifeline as you guided him away. Even with all the acting, both of you realized how much small touches really meant. Both of you grew to need more contact than you were getting. 

“I’m really sorry about that Tsu-”

“Hey!”

“What?”

“Ya were just gonna call me Tsumu.”

“Huh?” He jogged up closer to you, still keeping his right hand firmly in your left, tapping his fingers excitedly on your knuckles.

“Tsumu” he whispered to himself, a smile creeping to his lips. He didn’t seem broken up about it anymore; you walked the rest of the way in comforting silence, save for the five minutes he was stopped by a stray cat.

He crouched down to be at eye level with the creature, staring into its piercing yellow eyes with all the focus he coils muster. Both sets of golden irises slitted in what looked to be a profession of power. Atsumu was having a staring contest with a stray cat. 

After two minutes, he won. Blinking and shouting, “shit, Y/N! Why’d you make me do that?”

“Excuse me?” He shot up, rubbing his eyes with his fists, hoping tears would drip back into them and soothe the pain. You giggled slightly, watching him suffer but still beat an animal in a battle of pure strength. This was the guy, huh.

“Hey! Don’t laugh! That’s the product of years of practice!” He tapped your shoulder with kind malice, making you grab it and scoff. The acting abilities of both of you became impeccable over these last few months. 

“Practice?” You were properly laughing at him now, loud chuckles falling from your lips as he pouted like a baby trying to get what he wants. 

“Yeah! Like with Samu! Sometimes even with Omi-omi from across the gym. Did that a few times at camp.”

“Did he know you-”

“Yes! As a matter of fact he did!”

“He probably thought you were just being-”

“Hey!” Your fingers were interlocked again, almost like magnets back together without a second thought, and he pushed his shoulder into yours, tossing you a few inches in the opposite direction. Neither of your smiles could be tampered with, and the faint giggles falling from your mouths echoed on the concrete below. 

The walk home proved two things lingering in your mind. You had feelings for Miya Atsumu and Miya Atsumu was definitely not a playboy.

“I keep the tea bags in so it’s way more potent. Do you have cranberry juice?” When you showed Atsumu all of the mugs you had, he became transfixed on a pale blue and yellow one with ducks on it. When you lifted the mug to show him the small ceramic duck sitting at the bottom, his face beamed. When you poured the water over the tea bag in the aforementioned mug, he grabbed four packets of sugar that sat on your kitchen table. 

“So you just wanted juice?”

“No; the juice is too bitter, it needs sugar anyway.” He sipped calmly, a matter of fact look plastered on his face as the steam blurred his features. “Yeah this ain’t potent enough.” He looked vaguely disgusted at your tea making abilities. 

“You let it set for thirty seconds, Miya,” a sigh punctuated your sentence, eliciting a scoff from the man across from you.

“Back to Miya I see,” an eye roll punctuated his. 

“‘Tsumu.”

He smiled brightly. The kind of smile that lives in your brain far after the moment passes. The kind of smile you think about late into the night when you recount potential things to be grateful for. The kind of smile that makes you fall in love with even the most insufferable of people.

Disgusting.

“But this tastes too much like tea,” he grabbed another few packets of sweetener and positioned his hands to rip them open in one fell swoop, all before you reached over and slapped at his hand, forcing him to drop the bad decision he was about to make.

“I have juice.”

“Can I have some?” but you were already pouring it into his little rubber duckie mug.

You both sipped between bouts of light conversation, one of you losing energy by the second and the other gaining. He’d crash soon, thankfully. 

The atmosphere was nothing short of soft. The pale yellow glow of a lamp in the corner of the room gave everything a lived in feel that fluorescent lights always manage to diminish. Those lights reflected off of everything, making the wood and the neutral accents feel golden. No matter the temperature, there was a consistent heat about the space. He looked more attractive than you’d ever seen him; hair still damp from a quick shower after the game earlier, eyes threatening to close from intense jumping, clothes comfortable enough to sleep in draping across his incredibly toned- watch it, Y/N.

He looked to be at home, but he had a way of always looking to be at home. There was no space that fully accepted Atsumu, but he always forced them to, with one action or another. He’d waltz into a gym with his cocksure smile and people would groan, but by the end of the match he’d get all of their respect. He was magical like that.

Intensity waved off of him like some pheromone, dripping from his every inch and forcing people to either rise to his level or cower away in fear. His circle was small, but they were loyal. They all wanted to be on his level.

“Oh, Atsumu. I never actually asked,” your hands were in two pale green rubber gloves, a mug in one hand and a soap-laden sponge in the other. He stood next to you, rinsing out the other mug and drying it with a towel. “Why Hisakawa?”

“Oh,” he was focussed on his hands, intently drying the bottom of the mug, “she dated me a while ago and hurt me bad. I thought I could make her jealous enough to want me back.”

“Women don’t really work like that,” a breathy laugh laced your words as you turned to look at him.

“She does, it’s annoying.”

“Hmm.” He was frowning now, gripping the mug tightly.

“I don’t know what was so great about her,” he laughed a bit while deep in thought, pushing everything he was doing to a slow stop, “maybe it’s ‘cause she was like you.”

And all you could do was giggle, hoping he couldn’t read the uncomfortable feeling behind it all. He has to know what he just did, right?

Then it began to rain. Buckets and buckets of lukewarm water dripped on the floor outside, creating cascades down the street. Small droplets pelted the ceiling like the insistent taping of anxious fingers, and both of you continued washing the mugs. 

If there were two deities on either of your shoulders, one with good intentions and one with bad, they’d be arguing. The only agreeable point was, though, that he can’t go home in this weather! What if he gets sick? Practically hell on earth. 

Six seconds passed. Well, technically it was six seconds, but it felt like millenia. He dried the duck mug, making a little noise of approval when he rubbed along its head, and looked back at you, eyes pleading before anything left his mouth.

“I don’t wanna go out in that rain, sugar.” He managed to never cross the set boundaries. He only ever called you sugar and any cuter variation of it.

“I didn’t really want you to either, if I’m being honest.” You looked a bit worried, which excited him to no end.

“Awww ya care about me? That’s so sweet of ya, bear!” Scratch that, he also called you bear. It was excused when he claimed it’s just short for sugarbear! You let me call you that one! Damn his charisma.

“I don’t want you sick before nationals, idiot.” You smiled and pushed past him, waltzing into the living room.

The warm lighting followed you two into the other room, and you kept that up with some full-bodied pop-rock music. A record player sat in the corner, comfortable among the mahogany and cardboard sleeves. The album you chose scratched and skipped, but the small pops of dust as the needle spun were enough to fill the space with comfort. Atsumu put a sizable dip in the brown and red paisley-adorned fabric of the center couch, laying his legs to point at the opposite arm from the one his back was resting against. Once again, his ability to be at home anywhere was given new life. “Do you want to watch something? We can-” 

You turned around to look at him once again, noticing the way his head sunk into the back of the couch, eyes shut, mouth open. He passed out in a matter of seconds. 

“Oh.” There were three options. One, waking him up and letting him sleep somewhere else, even though that’d probably be the couch anyway. Two, leaving him here, in the same position, but he could get a crick in his neck by morning. Three–the worst option–waking him up and letting him sleep in your bed, among your stuffed animals and in your space where you definitely don’t have the hoodie he gave you draped over a chair because you wear it to bed every night.

But he is a volleyball player and he would complain about being hurt for all of the next day. So. Bed it is? Shit.

“Atsumu?” you tapped on his shoulder, allowing his eyes to steadily open. He swatted you away. “Hey, you can sleep in my bed instead. Come on.” you grabbed his hand in yours and brought him to his feet. He stumbled after you into the bathroom as you forced him to brush the heinous amounts of sugar out of his teeth. He complied politely, but not without a tad bit of pushback, 

“Ya sound like Omi!”

“Oh no! He cares about you too! Just do it ‘Tsumu.”

He proceeded to walk into your room and sit on the edge of your bed for a fraction of a second before falling down on his back and closing his eyes. He shuffled around for a while, getting comfortable in the new scents and fabrics, but eventually his movements stilled. Finally, somebliss.

You quietly changed into comfier clothes back in the bathroom and padded your way back, settling down next to your boyfriend-. No. Pseudo boyfriend. At best. 

He was soft and warm and comfortable; curling your body up against his felt like a dream, but you didn’t want to push his boundaries. 

“Sweet dreams, Tsumu. Thanks for being here. I like you a little bit.”

He hadn’t lost consciousness yet. He was glad your eyes were closed when he cracked a genuine smile. 

Of the two Miya twins, Atsumu was the early riser. Osamu would sell his soul for Atsumu to stop waking up at five in the morning, but sadly no one is willing to make the exchange. His alarm plays loud bass riffs, expertly muddled with layers of overdrive, and somehow it shoots him right into consciousness. He clamers about on the upper bunk, jumping down the ladder like some sort of intensely trained gorilla, as Osamu would say, and with the power of one thousand suns. 

You were not aware of this fact.

Disgruntled noises of anger spilled from your lips as the music started and Atsumu practically hopped up, using the incoming sunrise to his advantage when navigating your room. You learned later that the rain stopped about an hour before, but the sky was still a sheet of grey clouds. He found the light switch and turned it on, allowing piercing white light to break your retinas far earlier than usual. 

“Mornin!” Atsumu’s smile was brighter than all of it put together.

“It’s too early,” you drew out the last syllable, picking up and dropping your head in defeat.

“Fine, ya can go back to sleep. I should probably make my way home though, ya know, for school.” Ah yes, the only pro of sending him home last night. It was only Wednesday.

“I’ll see you later, ‘Tsumu.” You shut your eyes and immediately passed out again, waking up to your own soothing indie music an hour later.

A normal morning routine came and went, and you were back to acting. Well, was it even acting anymore? Maybe not from you, but the situation itself was unclear. He was an enigma, that Atsumu Miya.

He locked your fingers with his at the first possible moment. He winked at Suna and shot a quick glance to where your hands met, making sure the other boy knew what was going on. He made sure he could rub it in. Suna just scoffed in response. 

You leaned in a bit closer to whisper a “have a good day, pseudo boyfriend” in his ear. 

As you parted ways, your hands lingered together as they always would. The second they dropped, he grabbed your face and kissed you. Atsumu was a fan of frequent public displays of affection, this was established months ago, but there was something different this time. 

“Drop the pseudo and I will.” 

part two ||masterlist||next

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PLAYBOY - PART TWO

– in which second year inarizaki student miya atsumu wants to make a girl jealous. you were his best bet at doing just that.

a/n: part two!!! big thanks to isa, nona, and leaf for betaing this one <3. this is the longest continuous piece ive ever written (usually my work caps out around 700), and im lowkey sorta proud of it? it think it sets things up well for the end :)

genre: fluff, beginning into the hurt/comfort, fake dating

warnings: light swearing, but i think thats it this round

word count: 2158

enjoy!

You supposed it wasn’t that bad. He was sweet–well. Was he?

Atsumu Miya, strange man. Maybe it was his Libra sun, maybe that was thing that made him so damn compelling. He wouldn’t let anyone hate him fully, no matter how much they loathed and despised his entire being. They’d see his intensity and his insanity and how good those things made him at everything. Their own jealousy would override any appreciation they could have for him. If anyone had the choice, they’d hate him without a second thought, but he would never let that happen. He was charismatic like that. 

He’d send you a good morning text laced with sarcastic heart emojis and pseudo passion. He’d lock your fingers with his at the first possible moment. He’d wink at Suna and shoot a quick glance to where your hands met, making sure the other boy knew what was going on. Making sure he could rub it in. Suna would just scoff in response. 

Atsumu was very eccentric, to say the least. He was filled to the brim with strange claims and nonsense sentences that meant nothing to anyone who would care enough to decode them. He spoke in a language only one would be able to understand after spending your whole life with him. He texted just how he spoke; everything could be read in his voice, without even hearing it.

Mornin sweetcheeks ;)

                We talked about this, Miya. No pet names in private.

Awww Y/N! Thats no fun :( is there anythin i can call ya?

                 My name, Atsumu. 

:(((

But what if i wanted ta call yaaaaaa

Hmmmmmmm

Doll? Sweetie? A nickname??? Can i make up a nickname????

                  I’d rather you didn’t.

Sugar?

                  You sound like an old woman

Thats not a no, sugarplum

                  Yeah okay, whatever.

Yer so prickly

                   You’re insufferable

                   Meet me in the courtyard

My pleasure~

And he always would. He’d spot you standing next to the fountain and jog up to you, smiling brightly. His eye contact would be intense and passionate and unwavering without a second thought. He’d hold his hand out for you to grab and the acting for today would begin. 

“Aww, ‘Tsumu! Stop it!” You made sure to have blush applied all across your cheeks and nose today, and every day before and after. An artificial sort of heat made it all the more convincing, especially if your goal was to act like an embarrassed and giddy little schoolgirl. 

“Stop what, sugar? Thinkin’ yer beautiful?” He chuckled in the way only Atsumu was able to chuckle. It was filled with the most fake sincerity a chuckle could be; it sounded more real than any fake laugh you’d ever heard. It fooled even you more than once, but the look in his eyes always disproved the nagging potentials in the back of your brain. It’s fake, Y/N. He doesn’t think all that.

You simply pushed into his shoulder in response to the best of your ability, tossing his upper body slightly but not enough to change his composure. A small, fiendish smile was shot his way.  “Nice one, Atsumu.”

Deep down, it was incredibly apparent that everything was a game to Atsumu. He knew what he was playing, as well as all of the rules. He knew what he was meant to do. He knew what would get a rise out of you. He knew, somehow, every way to make you feel like someone was deeply infatuated with you, despite the truth behind the matter. He knew you began to think he liked you.

The night all of this began, you called Atsumu. It was a quick phone call, complete with the sounds of purple gel pen scrawling across dotted paper and two teen boys bickering about how uncomfortable you would be with certain things. It was an hour of lunacy, really, but all of the heavy sighs got somewhere in the end.

“What if we give each other letters? That could be cute and obvious.” A pen was pressed to your lips, tapping consistently against the softer skin. Purple ink, with only about two hundred words left in it.

“Are ya comin’ to my games in my jersey or not.” Behind him, you could make out Osamu say some snarky ‘why would she want to?’ preceding a thud and a grunt.

“Of course,” a large sigh escaped your lips, “I’ll try my best to.” 

“Good. I gotta prove to that Omi-omi I can get a girl.” Another snarky comment was added by Osamu.

“Why do you have to prove yourself to so many people, Atsumu?” He ignored the question.

“I like the letters idea.”

A stack of light pink stationary found its home on your desk from then on, the height diminishing by mere millimeters each day. Sometimes they’d say things like, “Nice ass, Miya” with doodles of little flowers on the corners. Sometimes they’d be well thought out observations on something he did in a practice game you were asked to watch. Sometimes they’d simply tell him that you were proud of him. What’s the harm in variety?

His were, well, vastly different. Most notable were his dissertations on how much his brother pissed him off. Second to that were his academic essays on why Suna Rintaro was a, in his words, “little baby who needs to get some damn passion for god’s sake!” And finally, his light compliments. He was a very observant guy, despite it all, and there was something deeply endearing about the way he, and his chicken-scratch handwriting, told you about something little he noticed. It started with the little heart you drew on your right pointer finger while dazing off in class, and continued with changes in nail color and if he liked your socks. It was easier to say he was just observant, but over time Osamu heard differently. 

Not that any of that mattered to you. Not that it was anything at all. It’s all fake, it’s not like you want him to like you. With his dreamy- intense caramel eyes that look like the warm setting sun. Or his unrelenting sweet energy that felt like a warm hug after years apart. 

Stop it, Y/N. That’s not what we’re here for. Just spiting Hisakawa. And, you supposed, whoever that “Omi-omi” was. And Suna too? At one point? It was all very vague.

Why do you have to prove yourself to so many people, Atsumu?

In addition to the letters, there were public displays of affection. According to Atsumu, because he was known to be very affectionate, he needed to be that way with you. It was a requirement from the

“Rules of datin’ Miya Atsumu. Number one: frequent P-D-A.”

“Why can’t I just be the exception?” 

“No one’ll be convinced otherwise, sugar.” He managed to win that argument, and it was more than just being touch-starved that let him do so. He’s a very convincing man. “I’ll jus’ give ya a mornin’ hug. Plus the hand holdin’. Plus maybe a few kisses here and there? Have ya been kissed before?”

“Yes, Atsumu.” You managed to pack in a sigh and a flirtatious lilt.

“Good.” 

Atsumu was a good kisser. It was practically a fact of life at around day four. He’d grab your hand in the morning and lean in for a small, chaste peck. That same routine would happen roughly three times a day. Nothing deeper than that though, so maybe you weren’t yet able to gauge it. His lips were soft like he took care of them; sometimes they tingled of menthol chapstick. He always tasted minty, for what you were able to taste. But it was all for show. It didn’t matter if he tasted good. 

You never really knew how important volleyball was to him until you began going to games. Sitting in the stands of the Fall Preliminaries and watching as Inarizaki racked up points, far faster and with more vigor than you ever thought they could. You didn’t know, until that moment, what it meant to be one of the top teams in the nation. 

Fall came and went, taking all of its warm color schemes and pleasant temperatures with it. A far more bleak energy was brought over the world as a whole, and suddenly it was time for Atsumu to leave for a training camp. His absence, be it only for five days, was slightly jarring. Your hand felt empty without his in it, and the occasional tingle of your lips without his on them was unmistakable. They say distance makes the heart grow fonder; maybe that meant distance makes you realize how much fondness was already festering. 

The pride you felt towards him should have been an early indicator. The way you looked at him through rose-tinted lenses within minutes of making the decision to ‘date’ him should have told some sort of story. Inarizaki had a practice game a few days before Spring Nationals; you studied for a few exams in the stands.

“Y/N! Didya see that?” He stared up you, excitement beaming from him. He must’ve done something cool.

“No, I’m sorry ‘Tsumu! Do it again for me, kay?” Acting out of your normal attitude made this whole thing seem more real to the onlooker. It was easier to look like you were in a relationship when you acted like it was all a romantic comedy.

“You heard the girl, ‘Samu!” 

It happened so fast. Osamu set the ball in the air, and suddenly it was pushed back down to the floor. 

“What the hell was that?” Your eyes bugged out of your head, surprised incredibly by his ability to play more than one position incredibly well. 

“It’s a quick attack! Copied it from that Tobio-kun from trainin camp and his little middle blocker.”

“Fuck, man” you were still trying to stabilize your breath, figuring out what the hell just happened before your eyes. 

He just smiled. He smiled the bright, intense smile he shows the whole world. A short blow of a whistle preceded a much longer one, and Atsumu’s smile somehow became even larger. That same smile made your heart flutter and soar, but he could never know that. It was all fake.

Atsumu offered to walk you home that night. You stood between Atsumu and Osamu, with Suna on the other side. One of them was speaking passionately about the coming national tournament, while the other three either listened intently or ignored everything. Even after an intense game, Atsumu still brimmed with energy. He was incredible like that.

“I’m so excited to do that quick in Tokyo. We’re gonna smoke those private school brats this year, I can feel it.” The blonde’s voice was soft but intense. 

“That ‘Omi-omi’ guy?”

“Sakusa Kiyoomi.” Suna interjected, sighing loudly at his friend’s rivalry with this unknown person.

“He’s the ace for the school that always ends up beatin’ us every year. Itachiyama.” Osamu’s voice was solemn; he was tired.

“And we’re gonna crush em to bits, right?”

“Yeah, ‘Tsumu.” 

“I hope Tobio-kun sees us do that quick too, ‘Samu. His goody-two-shoes ass needs ta be put in his place.”

“You’re insane,” Osamu glanced to Atsumu once, then back forward, smirking, “but yeah, we’re gonna win.”

“Don’t be so sure, Karasuno had to beat Shiratorizawa to get there,” Suna scoffed.

“We’re gonna win.” Atsumu’s voice didn’t waver. He was so deeply sure.

“Why do you need to prove yourself to so many people, Atsumu?”

“Huh?” Osamu and Suna walked ahead of you two, picking up their pace to give the lovebirds some space–they both knew it was fake, though.

“You’re always trying to prove yourself. Why is that?” Your question was completely out of a place of curiosity. No malice intended.

He stopped completely, turning towards you and digging deep into your eyes. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes slanted. He didn’t know. “What?”

“Like with Sakusa and ‘Tobio’, why do you need to prove to them that you’re good” You paused for a second to stare deeper into his bewildered eyes. “We already know you’re good. You’re the best setter in the nation.”

There wasn’t really any explanation to what happened next, but Atsumu began crying. It was quiet and slow, a single tear falling down his cheek, but the fact that it happened at all was all the shock it needed to have. Maybe he wasn’t used to praise. “I don-” he choked slightly, “I don’t know.”

He seemed more empty than usual; all the happiness of the past few hours left his body in one fell swoop. Your arms wrapped around his waist quickly and seamlessly; you pressed your head into his body. After a second, he returned the hug. He held you there, in the middle of a sidewalk, holding back tears. Suna and Osamu were well out of sight by now.

“Let’s go back to my place, I’ll make us tea.”

part one ||masterlist||part three

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|| PAIRING || - - -  Kenma Kozume x Female Reader

|| GENRE || - - -  Angst, Fluff

|| WARNING || - - - Angst, Breakup, Cheating, Mental Anguish, thoughts caused by Depression, Implications of suicide

WC:3.4k

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I–>II–> III

AN: Chapter 2??? Yes???? ALSO REMINDER THAN LOST WILL BE UPDATED ON FRIDAYS AT 10:30 ish MDT. Taglists are OPEN! Please send an ASK or DM! Reblogs are appreciated :D

You sat in your room in silence, staring at the bare white walls that trapped you in. Like an animal in a cage. The only speck of colour came from your unusually bright bed covers, a gift from… from someone long ago. Clothes were strewn across the beige carpet of your room, the only sign that the room itself was being used. The cleanness of this room was your pride and joy. Something, the only thing, you could tell yourself you did. 

You laughed pathetically. 

It had been your strong will that had you walking past Kenma when you hesitantly knocked on the front door to the apartment. You had heard huffs of annoyance even before he had opened the door. And it was not hard to imagine the grimace that played on his thin, firm lips. He gave you a look, waiting for you to throw him a glance as you had found yourself doing out of habit. But you didn’t, deigning to stare at the boring painting plastered onto the walls. And the sink full of dirty dishes that you knew would never be cleaned until you decided to do them. 

There was a part of you— that broken yet foolish part of you that yearned for at least the tiniest ounce of worry. There was a part of you that had hoped you did not need to deal with the burdensome annoyance that Kenma had often thrown at you. Before, during and after your so-called “relationship”. It was an emotion that was so often seen on his pleasant face, that it had been a shock that had stopped you in your tracks when you had first seen him smile at his phone. 

You laughed again. You had been naive. A fool. A fool in love. But a fool nonetheless.  

“L/N.” you closed your eyes, palm coming up on your face as you shield yourself from the dull lights of the room. And the lean man that stood outside your door.

“What.” you hoarsely spoke, leaning back on your elbows, reaching over your shoulder to grab a water bottle.

“May I come in?”.

You almost laughed at the stiff words. It must be weird to show so much distance to your former girlfriend and current roommate.

“Whatever,” you snorted, throwing your legs over the bed, tilting your head back as you chugged half of your water.

The door slowly opened, curious and hesitant eyes found your own. His honey eyes were dull, a glint of suppressed annoyance lingering in his gaze as he took in your defensive gaze. He barely took a step into the room before stopping in his tracks, awkwardness painted all over his body. Big, black Razer Sony headphones hung over his neck, his hands tucked into the deep pockets of his gray sweatpants. His shirt was one size too big, something that he had found more comfortable, especially when streaming.

“A shame” you had once teased, as you looked at his choice of outfit for stream. He had merely looked at you with a gaze oozing irritation. 

“What do you want?” 

The words came out sharper than you had meant, an apology lingering like a sour grape on the tip of your tongue.

Any hesitance was short-lived at your icy words, his own eyes becoming as cool as ice.

“I have a stream at five,” he gave you an obvious look-over, eyes pausing at the bruises on your exposed legs, “At least try to look nice.”

You snorted, flipping him off.

“It was a one-time thing, Kozume.” you retorted.

“No.” his jaw clenched at your pure stone-cold glare. ice that raged in your eyes. “We agreed that we would continue streams till the end of our lease.”

“I have no interest in faking affection just for you to have a good image,” you snarled as Kenma rolled his eyes. The lithe muscles in his biceps flexed as he ran a hand through his messy hair.

“Of course you don’t care about a good image.”

He motioned to your unruly hair. To the dark circles that seemed tattooed into your skin. To the dullness that now echoed in your skin. 

It was a low blow. And he knew it. And yet… as you stared at his unwavering eyes. You knew he didn’t give one damn.

You snorted, your lips trembling as you waved your hand.

“I’ll do it, just stop talking.”

“You’re a nuisance annoying.” he seethed, tugging on his hair as if you were driving him insane.

“I just said that I’ll do it. What else do you want.” you snapped. The unsaid words lingered in your head. On the very tip of your throat.

I was in the hospital. Do you not even care?

He rolled his eyes again.

“Stop acting like you’re doing me a favour,” he looked down at you. You flinched at the pure, unfiltered disdain that filled his features. At the eyes burning like the flames of the eternally burning sun. At the lips that trembled in rage. At the fingers that tightly clutched his black shirt.

“And I’m not?” you spitefully fought back. It was not a wise choice, you knew that. It was rare—so rare that rage ever filled Kenma’s features. If anything he had always been the more calm, peaceful of the two of you, always deciding to deal with confrontations in a pacifist approach. 

It would be better if you shut your mouth. Be the submissive person you knew he wanted you to be. But it was the strike of your pride that edged you on. 

“If you would be honest and just tell your viewers we broke up, then it wouldn’t be such a hassle.” 

It hurt more than it annoyed you. Pretending that you and Kenma were still in a relationship. Still in love. It was ironic, you had thought, when he gave you more attention than he did when you were in a genuine relationship. From the small pecks, he gave on your forehead. To the small smiles, he faked when he looked at you during the stream. His affection seemed like an on and off switch. The love you had received on stream immediately descended to scorn and mockery as he merely nodded for you to leave the room.

You watched Kenma carefully, waiting for the blow that was sure to come. 

“You’re freeloading off of me,” he scoffed, “Can you even pay for your breakfast?”

You stayed quiet at the venom that spitted from his sharp tongue. 

“I can,” you quietly said, refusing to let the anger consume your words.

“With what job,” he mocked, “The one that pays 700 yen an hour?”

A furious blush ran down your neck. You wondered how many low blows it would take for you to break down completely. 

“It’s still a job,” you scowled.

It was hard to say anything back to that. He wasn’t fully wrong. It was a very low-paying job, a minimum wage job that seemed to have more cons than pros. But, it was all you could do. With your half-finished university degrees. It would be a shameful burden, among the many others, that you would bear. 

“Sure.” his eyes seem to always be rolling at this point. He backed up, hands reaching behind him to touch the handle of the door. He gave you one more look.

“You were taking a break from social media for a week, that’s why you haven’t shown up on my streams.” And with that, he slammed the door, before shuffling back to his room.

You scoffed. 

“Sure,” you muttered to the closed door.

A low dull rhythm echoed in your head, as you tucked in your legs, resting your cheek on your knee. Maybe one day, the universe wouldn’t bet against you.

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You woke up with a pain in your neck and a broken heart. Sleep, although something you desired in the back of your head, was not your greatest friend. On the best days, you found yourself in a fruitless sleep, filled with a void of darkness and silence. On the worst days, harrowing and blurry images raced through your head. Unfamiliar actions and words always made you wake up with sweat dripping down your neck. The nightmares served as a reminder of the heaviest of burdens on your shoulders. Of the shame that brought with every breath. You stared blankly at the walls, contemplating your next move. 

Groggily, you arose and walked to the kitchen. Scrummaging for any snacks. There was nothing, except for the powder milkshakes Kenma always seemed to have a stock of. The clicking clock seemed to mock you with every move. The small hand stayed still at 12 and the long hand trembled as it switched between 3 and 4. The clock, from what you observed, had been broken since Kenma had brought it on. And yet he refused to replace it.

You snorted as you closed the door, daring to peek at the sink. You sighed as you spotted the messy dishes, a pile continuously growing. That pile indeed would never disappear without you doing it. For a man who you were seemingly freeloading of, he seems inadequate to perform even the most basic of housework. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you groaned. You hadn’t eaten since the previous morning and you didn’t get a chance to eat after your “conversation” with Kenma. You turned on the tap, popping open the bottle of dish soap. You scrubbed the dishes, rising and washing all the dishes in a mere ten minutes. You hated doing the dishes. It felt unclean. Disgusting. You could almost feel the grime under your fingernails when you had finished. And no soap seemed to get rid of the feeling of uncleanness under your nails. On your fingers. You shivered in disgust. You scrubbed your fingers under hot water, muttering small curses under your breath.

“What are you doing?” You stepped back, dropping the bar of soap you were using.

“Being a freeloader,” you snarkily responded, as you went back to clean your hands once more. You stared at your fingers.

“Stop wasting water.” he rolled his eyes, as he opened an oak wood cupboard, taking out a cup.

“Is that why you never wash the dishes?” you snorted as you closed the tap, wiping your hands on your sweatpants. Your only response was an exasperated look. A pregnant silence settled in the kitchen. The only sound coming from the quiet trickling of the water dispenser. You shuffled your feet. There was no reason for you to be in the room. To stay. He never asked you to. But he hadn’t asked you to leave. 

Yet.

Your eyes trailed from the floor to the small crack of skin exposed as he downed the cup of water at once. You watched a small droplet of water dribble from the corner of his mouth. At the man bun that was coming apart, strands of black and blonde curling slightly at the end.

“Are you just going to stare?” he placed the cup in the sink before walking past you, back into his room.

“Creep.” you heard him huff before the sharp sound of a closed-door echoed in your ears. It was a slap in your face. Embarrassment pooled in your stomach as you quickly went to the sink, rinsing the cup before walking back to your room. You quietly closed the door, jumping on the bed. The quiet creaks of the mattress hid your sniffles.

 Hiding the quiet, invisible call for help.

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Words couldn’t describe the pain you were in right now. Although many of the bruises on your leg were healed, it didn’t stop the random slaps of pain that shocked through your legs. Standing for almost 7 hours didn’t help the matter. But there was not much room to complain between the fake smiles you were forced to plaster onto your face. It was the most you had smiled in years, your cheeks stretching painfully as you waved goodbye to a customer. Your smile almost immediately dropped as the last of the rush hour customers had passed, ordering their coffees quickly.

 You didn’t dislike the job although you were sure there were better ones out there. But it wasn’t the worst. The place itself was pleasurable to the eyes. Soft pastel colors bloomed in the small, modest coffee shop. Light floral pink walls were illuminated by circular bulbs of pale white light. Coral green swirls of colour painted intricate designs on the walls, small dots added under the small designs, drawing a dotted line all across the wall. Pale pink stools were stuffed under small circular tables. Pale green stems of the mauve lily stood out amongst the mostly pink furniture. The café was almost empty except for a few elderly people who comfortably leaned back in some of the chairs, laughing amongst themselves as they sipped their coffee from plastic, pink cups. Soft, lyricless music played in the café, drowning the small place in a peaceful sort of quiet. It was the sort of ambience you wished you could have back at the apartment. You almost found yourself humming along with the music. Almost.

“The barista might have forgotten your name, but I sure haven’t.”

You groaned at the cheesy words that ruined the quiet little happiness that had been unfurling in your chest. A blooming flower stopped in its tracks.

“I am the barista,” you muttered, as you walked away from the register. You brought your hands to the loosely tied apron, quickly taking both ends and pulling it tighter. You didn’t look at the man, who merely gave you a small pout as you backed away from him. You couldn’t tell which was more painful. Kai’s corny, stupid jokes. Or the standing you had to deal with for a mere 700 yen.

“But it was good right,” you turned around, throwing him a glare before rolling your eyes. 

“No.”

“Y/N,” he whined cutely, the pout growing on his plump, pink lips. You only rolled your eyes again.

“Go back to work Kai,” you muttered as you ran a finger down the clean slabs of pale pink granite.

He sighed, running a toned, sun-kissed arm through his strikingly pale blonde hair. The contrast between his caramel skin and his naturally light hair always made you stop in your tracks. He didn’t have the worst of faces, you concluded, as you turned around sticking your tongue out at him. The smirk that grew on his face, made your cheeks bloom with embarrassment, the thumping of your chest becoming slightly erratic. His bronze eyes crinkled around the corners as his smirk grew into a genuine smile.

“It’s only a matter of time,” he teased, giving you a wink that would have made any other girl swoon. You raised your eyebrows, gaze narrowing as you gave him a once over.

Dissatisfaction pooled in your eyes as you gazed at his face.

“You sure about that one?” your gaze only narrowed more at his confident smirk. He thumped his broad chest, hand resting on his heart as he smirked at you.

“For sure.” he grinned, “Thousand yen”

Your eyes gazed at the small, leafy bill that sat tauntingly on the counter. You bit your lips.

The easiest thousand yen of your life. You grinned, hand reaching out, as Kai quickly snatched the note back, stuffing it in his pockets.

“You, sir, have got yourself a deal.”

He gave you a toothy grin as he grabbed your hand.

For a man who spent his workdays behind a counter making coffees, his hands were surprisingly rough and calloused.

“You’ll be asking me out before this month is over,” he added, daring you to take back the deal you had just made. 

“Don’t get your hopes up, buddy.” you rolled your eyes, “I’m taken.”

It was a sour lie to say, but it had to be done.

He merely laughed, eyes sparkling a sly grin overtaking the toothy one he had on before. Glancing at the calendar, Kai threw you another grin.

“We’ll see about that in thirty days.”

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Exhaustion crept on you like a cat on its prey. Today, like most Mondays, was a rush hour. Though you found the evenings much more tiresome than the morning. In the morning, frantic office workers barged in, quickly ordering their coffee and leaving. Afternoons were much quieter, the rare elderly person walking in with a grin and a roll of the most recent newspaper. Evenings, however, made you want to pull your hair out. Especially as tides of high school girls, finally leaving their dreaded classrooms, rushed in. It took hours to even get their orders. Most of the time was spent with flirtatious conversations with Kai, who seemed pleased at the compliments that fluttered his way. The girls with more bravado, bracingly asked for his hand in marriage, no sight of humor glistening in their eyes.

You sighed, muttering under your breath, as you trudged to the small room in the back. Pulling out your phone, you always swore at the bombardments of messages and notifications that drowned your notification bar. You sat down, slumping down on the dark couch as you swiped through.

Emails of probable work applications were immediately swiped off. There was no point in looking for a job when you would immediately be denied. Notifications from your other apps were also immediately swept away. It had been months since you opened Instagram or Snapchat. Not like there were any important conversations on there, you reasoned, as you scrolled further down the notifications. Your eyes widened in pleasant surprise at the few messages from Akaashi, glad that you had remembered to name his contact. But before you could see what Akaashi had sent you, your screen flashed. Your ringtone echoed in the empty room. You almost dropped your phone as your eyes caught the name.

Kenma Kozume.

You scrunch your eyes in confusion.

Tentatively you accepted his call, putting it on speaker.

“He–”

“Where are you?” There was a sort of franticness in his voice as he spoke. As if he was worried about you.

Knowing Kenma that probably wasn’t the case.

“At work?”

He huffed scornfully.

His voice was coated in a thick layer of venom as he spoke.

“Can you not do anything right? I legit only asked, for one thing, L/N.” he snarled, his voice quiet as if he didn’t want anyone to hear.

“What?”

You were confused. You had made him his daily meal, with the type of rice he liked. You even added the meat that he adored. Maybe it was the meat, you thought in apprehension. 

Oh god, was it half-cooked?’

I knew I shouldn’t have rushed it this morning.

“It’s almost five and you’re still at work?”

You glanced at your phone. A glaring 4:30 scoffed back at you.

“So?”

“You’re supposed to be on my stream at five.” 

Oh.

“So it wasn’t the meat then,” you muttered quietly.

“It only takes me ten minutes, Kozume.” you rubbed your temples, “Calm down.”

“And it’ll take you an hour to get ready,” he snarky replied. You could hear the bitterness in his voice, sending shivers down your spine.

“No it won’t, stop being dramatic.” you sighed. Throwing your head back on the couch, you groaned.

“Something wrong, hot stuff?” you paused, jerking your phone behind you as you jerked up. You sighed, meeting Kai’s curious eyes. 

How much had he heard?

“Nothing, but I might have to leave right now,” you explained to him, as you took the phone off the speaker. “My boyfriend needs me right now.” Something dark lingered in his eyes before it was gone in a heartbeat.

“No worries, I can close the café L/N.” he gave a small smile before walking back to his wooing harem of girls. You mouthed him thanks, letting slight appreciation gleam in your eyes as you put the phone back in your ear.

“Is that what you do in work,” he scoffed, “Seduce people. Is that why you go there, to sleep with them like a—”

“Shut up.” you icily said. “I’ll be there in a few.”

You hung the phone Kenma could continue his ill rant.

Your heart pounded. At the apprehension of being caught. You didn’t know why you felt this way. Didn’t know why this guilt lingered as you walked away from Kai. At the gaze, Kai kept on the hoard of girls as you walked out the door. It was a reminder to him, you supposed, that you were indeed a taken woman.

And a small part of you wished you didn’t have to lie like that.

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BECOMING STRANGERS AGAIN » 00

00 — STRING THAT ONCE TIED THEM TOGETHER

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•─────────°❋❀°─────────•

“If that’s really what you want, Kei,” she said, clenching her fists into a ball as she stood in the middle of his bedroom.

“It is,” he said, the look on his face so cold and hard that it was almost as if it was never warm or never softened for her.

“Fine,” she said, trying to keep her composure, but she felt the sting of tears flooding to her eyes. “Then youfigure out how to explain this to Tadashi, because I won’t be trying to clean up your messes anymore.”

She turned and left his house quickly, unable to stand the sticky sensation that she felt being in that room with him. Years of friendship that he just wanted to throw away, plans for post graduation and college out with it. All over something so trivial, something so fixable.

No one explained anything to Yamaguchi, who instead found himself smack in the middle of his two best friends, watching as the string that once tied the girl to the blonde drifted with the wind with the rest of the things they threw out.

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[a/n: hello! i am now revamping this story, and turning it into a college!au instead! be prepared for the ride! is also available on my wattpad which is linked in my acc and my navigation page!]

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