#hq x gender neutral reader

Reader:Gender Neutral
Character:Kōtarõ Bokuto
Rating:M
Summary: “hello! could u pls do a yakuza!bokuto au where he’s literally crazy and incredibly feared but he loves and dotes on the reader like crazy?” - Anon
Warning:Yakuza AU, Reference to Abuse, Fluff, Minor Angst, Age Gap (Bokuto is 30, Reader is 22)
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Anything you want, Bokuto bought for you. Being one of the most feared men in the country, he was basically untouchable. He was great with a weapon, especially his sword that had been passed down through the generations. His arms and back were lined with tattoos showing off the bird imagery. He was the great horned owl, the most fearsome of its kind. 

His hands were caked in blood, along with lining the pockets of local politicians. He ran clubs, brothels, casinos, everything was touched by his power. Those gold eyes spelled trouble and unless you were part of the family, being in the court of the owl was never a good thing. 

But there was one weak spot in the great owl. The heel that could strike him down if anyone found out about it. They never attended any meetings, rarely seen at parties, but was the closest thing that Bokuto, the owl, had to love. He called her his little bunny, the docile little prey of the owl. But instead of eating you alive, he cherished you lovingly. 

You were his little bunny, and he adored you. You were a simple college student, you used to work at a local cafe where you met Bokuto. Where most people were scared to even look at him, you talked to him every day with a bright smile and a tiny bit of flirting. Bokuto was enthralled by your boldness, but in reality you didn’t realize who he was until your first date when you started asking about the tattoos. 

When he told you his profession, you blinked at him and went “You’re not going to hurt me, are you?” And that made Bokuto’s heart both sink and melt. There was a trace of fear in your eyes that settled when he told you that he’d never, ever hurt you. That’s when you said, “A lot of people have hurt me.” 

Which made Bokuto hurt for you, especially when you got into more detail about your life with your mother. How cruel she was, the words she’d say to hurt you, the reminder of how useless, selfish and evil you were, even when you did nothing wrong. When you recalled a time where she yelled at you for not cleaning out the coffee pot to her liking, Bokuto knew he had to get you out of there. 

  “I’ll give you any money you want.” He said, “any amount and it’s yours!” He told you this on your second date after you barely touched your food because your mother mentioned how much weight you had gained. 

  “I can’t accept your money Kōtarō.” You shook your head, “It wouldn’t be fair, not this early in the relationship. You earned that money, I can’t very well take one big lump sum. She would get suspicious anyway.” 

  “Then I’ll give you an allowance! Every week you save the money I give you and then you can move out, or move in with me! You can, ummmmm, do household chores and you’ll never have to work again!”

You chuckled and poked at the pasta you were supposed to eat, “How about we see how this relationship goes, and then maybe I’ll take you up on your offer.” 

He perked up, “Sounds like a plan. For now, eat up, or I’m giving you some of my lamb.” He pointed his fork at you. He was usually so threatening but you saw a side of him that couldn’t be denied, he was soft for you. The fearsome owl had a soft spot for you. 

Almost two years of dating, you were just about to finish university and looking for next steps. And Bokuto was there regardless, during that time however, you moved in with him and carried an allowance. But still had ambitions to go to graduate school and pursue higher education. Life got better after you got out of your mother’s home, there was no more hurling hurtful words at you, you were praised so much that sometimes it frightened you. Bokuto was your number one fan, even when you got a sixty on that biology paper. 

You took up most of the household chores in the mansion, when you weren’t in class you and a few of the men that Bokuto worked with cleaned up the mansion, you found it relaxing almost to scrub dishes, especially when you played the classic jazz records that Bokuto had. 

What you weren’t expecting was for him to come home so early. You hadn’t even started dinner yet and suddenly you found a pair of strong arms around you. You almost dropped the expensive plate when you jolted. 

You thought it was an intruder but in reality it was the soft embrace of your boyfriend. He rested his head on your shoulder and asked, “What’s for dinner tonight?”

You put the plate down and tuned in his arms. You cupped the side of his face that carried a large facial scar.You rubbed the faded red mark on his face as you said, “Bobo.” Your fond nickname for him, “Don’t scare me like that, you’re too quiet sometimes.”

He chuckled and leaned in for a kiss, “I don’t think anyone has ever said that to me before.” Then leaned in for another kiss, then another. Until you pulled away and laughed. 

  “My silly, Bo.” No one was ever allowed to call him ‘Bo’, but you had special priviledges far beyond anyone else. You were his weak spot and got away with most things, like calling him cute names and under spending your allowance (You had all the money in the world, why are you still buying hundred yen ramen?).

  “This is a good record.” He chuckled as he pulled away and took your hands in his, “Indigo Jam Unit.” He smiled, he knew the names to all these records. 

Bokuto loved you and he was glad that he was able to get you out of that hateful household. You seemed happily and healthier now that you were free of her, more smiles and cheers crossed your face. You were his beloved, of course he wanted you to be okay and happy. 

As he gave you another kiss, you moved together in almost sync. Your socked feet matched well with his dress shoe ones. You laughed when you danced together, a smile on your face that made Bokuto’s heart bloom.

You were safe here, in the arms of the feared owl. 

  “I love you.” He smiled as he swayed with you in the kitchen. His hands in your as your bodies moved together. 

  “I love you too, my great owl.” You replied with a peck on the lips.

Bokuto giggled and pressed his forehead against yours, “My sweet little bunny.” 

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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It’s not a pleasant feeling. This is his first birthday that Tendou has ever spent on his own, in the City of Dreams. 

Paris; it was mostly referred to as the “City of Lights”, but he calls it his City of Dreams because it is the place were his dream of becoming a chef and running his own chocolaterie came true. He’s been here for half a decade now and accomplished so much.

Not without his own hard work and sacrifices, though. And he must say, the biggest sacrifice he’s had to make so far is having to part with you. 

Usually, videochats and lovey text messages are enough to fill the distance between you both, but it’s on lonely nights like these, where he is hauling himself towards the elevator of his apartment complex — wearing his stained chef whites with a heavy rucksack slung over his shoulders — that he realises how truly arduous it is to be alone. To be without you. 

All of his movements were frigid; nothing felt right today. He scanned his key then pressed the button for his apartment.

5. The penthouse. He used to live on the second floor of this same apartment complex but once he gained the funds for it, he managed to ascend all the way up to the highest floor. 

For him, usually his residence is a symbol of how far he has come and all that he has achieved through his perseverance, but today it only reminded him of you and how you had yet to come see his new house (that he has had for over a year now). He has given you a virtual tour of it but that’s not the same as having you lie down next to him in his twin bed, cuddled up to his chest while he has his arms wrapped lovingly around you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. 

Oh, and he remembers when he first mentioned that he had bought a twin bed, you were rightfully confused. When he is rich enough to buy a penthouse, how can he not afford a double bed? 

Well, his explanation is quite simple, really. The less space in the bed, the more cuddling that will occur. And maybe other things too, who’s to say? 

Plus, they don’t make race-car beds in king size! (Jokes, he doesn’t have a race-car bed; they don’t make them in any size above small single, and cuddling with you in a single bed would simply be claustrophobic. He does care a lot about your comfort.) 

As the lift slowly began to ascend upwards, he was left to ponder what he had done wrong. Every year, you make it a point to come visit him for his birthday, while he visits you on your birthday and most other holidays. Including pancake day. (Because, let’s face it, it’s a lot cheaper to leave Paris than it is to get in.) However, this year you said you couldn’t make it due to work commitments. 

And at first he was irritated because he wasn’t really used to you putting your work in front of your relationships. Plus, he’s gone to hell and back rescheduling appointments, just so he could see you on your special day. Why couldn’t he get the same thing in return?

But then it dawned on him that the whole reason you are both apart in the first place is because of his own work commitments. So he didn’t really have the authority to be upset with you, only with himself. 

A faint ring echoed through the elevator and Tendou couldn’t help but heave a sigh. This was sure to be his worst birthday yet. There is always next year, though. 

The elevator door parted before his heavy eyes. He’d been running on caffeine, so he wasn’t able to tell if he was hallucinating when he saw his living room floor scattered with confetti balloons and multi-coloured streamers hanging from the wall, decorating the tables and lining his couch. It appeared as though a rainbow had come crashing down on his previously Rustic, minimalist living room. 

Though he wasn’t opposed, the bright splashes of colour really did cheer him up. Perhaps the thing that was bringing him down was living in such a dull and lifelessly decorated house. Up until now, he’d accepted how the house came pre-furnished and never really interfered with the décor, but now that his eyes have been opened to how lively and optimistic his environment can make him feel, his first instinct was to rush to his computer and start searching for an interior designer. 

Of course, he will do that after he finds the person responsible for livening up his house, because it certainly was not him. It’s likely to be the doings of his landlord or a.. very friendly burglar. Because he did notice that his antique chocolate cuckoo clock was missing. 

“Hello?” His voice echoed through the living room. His jaw immediately snapped shut when he heard movement coming from the kitchen; what sounded like shuffling and humming. Though whatever it was, didn’t acknowledge him at all.

Instead of engaging with the demon that could possibly be present in his home right now, he reached out to grab the tablet that rested on the wall right next to the elevator. It was the device that was connected to all the security cameras he had set up in his house. 

Scrolling through all the footage, he finally landed on the camera view that was currently recording the kitchen and his heart skipped a beat. 

It wasn’t a burglar or his landlord. And quite frankly, he would have figured it was some sort of demonic entity before he would’ve guessed that the person in the kitchen of his Parisian Penthouse would beyou. The person who said they couldn’t have made it to celebrate his birthday even if they begged their boss for a day off. Even through a low-quality cheap camera, he was able to recognise your grace. 

Tendou smiled and tossed the tablet onto the couch, racing to the kitchen at top speed so he could finally take a look at you after all this time. You already had him grinning from ear-to-ear at the mere sight of you through a screen, so imagine the tears he wept when he was finally standing in the same room as you.

“(y/n)..” he gasped, frozen in place at the entrance of the kitchen, gazing at your figure through glossy eyes. You had a glamourous outfit on, perfectly styled hair and in your hand was a piping bag as you worked away at the final details at what he presumed was his birthday cake. 

Upon hearing his voice, you visibly tensed. Not because he was home earlier than you expected, but because it had been so long since you had heard his real voice. His authentic voice that hadn’t been altered by the quality of his microphone or the static of your wifi. It was his kind voice that called out to you, which result in you spinning on your heels and immediately dashing towards him to engulf him in your arms. 

And he wasn’t taken aback or surprised in the slightest. Ever since the moment he left you last time, he’s been prepared to take you in his arms again. He adores nothing more than your chest pressed against his, and how your loving, soft lips capture his own. For a tender kiss he wishes could last a lifetime. 

Soon, you part and his hand gently caresses your arm until he can take your chin between his index finger and thumb, to share a longing gaze. “I missed you so much.” He whispered, a foolish grin still painting his features.

You laughed, knowing that he’s only being quiet because you’ve told him off in the past for cheering and being loud when you’ve come to visit. However, that was only because you guys were in the airport and people were staring. “Tendou,” You cupped his cheek with your palm, “We’re alone, you don’t need to whisper.” 

He laughed, shifting his hand from the small of your back and resting it upon yours, “Alright, if you insist.” He took a deep breath, then yelled, “What the fuck are you doing here?!” 

You almost winced at how loud he was but just laughed since you did ask for it, and were fully expecting it. “I’m here for you. I couldn’t let you be alone on your birthday!”

His expression softened and his heart melted. How could he have ever doubted your love? What an idiot. 

He pulled you back in for another feverish hug, “You’re the best, (y/n). I adore you.” He genuinely couldn’t find the words to express how overjoyed he was to see you, on his special day. Not only that, but you brought cake! “Is that vanilla?” His warm breath tickled your ear, as he motioned to the two-tier, brightly iced cake sitting on the counter. 

“Close. It’s vanilla confetti cake!” You finally let go of Tendou, only so you could grab his hand and urge him towards your masterpiece. “Come, look!”

Complying, he walked over to the cake, but paying most of his attention to how cute you were when you’re excited, and how surreal it was to feel your hand in his. 

“I made it myself because apparently no local bakers stock confetti cake. But anyway, I iced it as well!” 

“Why is elmo on it?”

“That was supposed to be you but then I messed up so I had to turn it into elmo.”

“Ah, I see.” It was mostly covered with pale buttercream icing but on the top, there was the picture of elmo, and on the side of the second tier, black text read, “Happy Birthday, Guess Monster!” And he couldn’t help but snicker, as you and Ushijima are the only ones who still sometimes call him by that old highschool nickname, just to tease him. 

“Thank you so much, darling. I can’t believe you’ve went to all this effort just for me.” He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you to his chest, and this time, as he tried to catch a whiff of the cake, he noticed that you smelt like burnt chocolate. Or perhaps that was him, he is the one that works in the chocolaterie, but he’s good enough that he doesn’t burn the chocolate anymore! 

“Am I hallucinating or do you smell like burnt chocolate?” 

“Uh, you’re sane.” You grimaced, and shot him an innocent look, “Please don’t be mad.”

“What happened?” 

“I had to take your cuckoo clock off the wall to put up the streamers and I had no idea it was chocolate so when I left it near the microwave, it kinda melted.” You confessed in one breath in hopes that would soften the blow, but he didn’t seem fazed at all.

“Even if it was wood, why would you leave it by the microwave? I’m pretty sure wood is flammable”

“Because I was in a hurry! It’s really difficult trying to sneak in here, decorate the place and make this cake under three hours!” You tried to cry and express irritation, but as soon as you heard Tendou snickering under his breath, you couldn’t help but burst out laughing, and so did he.

“It’s fine, doll, I’ll just make a new one at work. Or maybe I don’t need one. I was just thinking about refurnishing anyway.” He shrugged, ruffling your hair slightly. 

You nodded, biting your lip as you were hastily reminded of another piece of tragic news, and he could immediately tell in your shift in aura that something was wrong. Hence, he was already prompting you to let him know if something was bothering you, or if you were worried or feeling jetlagged. 

“No, I feel fine, Tendou. It’s just that..” You trailed off, finally finding the courage to meet his affectionate red eyes. “My boss was serious when she said she’d fire me if I took this week off to see you. So I’ll have to start looking for a job straight away.”

He hummed slightly, unsure of what to say at first as he simply caressed your arm for a few moments, in complete silence. “I’m so sorry, (y/n). But if you want, you can always come work with me.”

You giggled, scratching your neck awkwardly, “I appreciate the offer. But I don’t know the first thing about being a chocolatier.”

“I could teach you.” He squeezed your shoulders slightly and you could tell from his wide eyes that he was being completely serious. “And you could live here with me! I’ll even buy us a kingsize instead of having us sleep in the twin bed forever!”

Your throat dried and your palms were hot; it was a lot of pressure to contemplate such a big decision right now. Yet, something about this entire situation felt so right, that you couldn’t possibly say no outright. In fact, if being a chocolatier and making food was as fun as making that cake, then everything about the arrangement sounds perfect to you. You’d have a job, a home and you’d get to stay with Tendou. 

Hence, before you could even waste another second thinking about it, you blurted out, “That would be amazing, Tendou. Thank y—” Before you could even finish, he scooped you up in his arms and began twirling around the kitchen. 

“No, thank you, (y/n).” He stopped spinning but held you above him, so he could gaze up into your hypnotic eyes, “You’re so perfect. Thank you for making this the best birthday I’ve ever had.”