“Can I Sit On You(r Face)?” (Haikyuu!! Fake Texts)

can i request the torn of rose akaashi part 3 when he regret everything he does to reader but it's to late pleaseeee

part 3 when i aint even got a part 2 😮‍💨 bro u gon' make me work aint u

jk jk and i mean its a good idea loving the angsty regret from his end but i kinda liked where it ended before. i feel like bois who cheat like akaashi did don't deserve any five minutes of spotlight for pity like my guy moved on while he was still in a relationship so i was never quite sure how to draw him back in to the reader and make him interested again. and once again angst is always troubling to write for me

i loved your yandere hc’s of the darling trapping them in a room while they try to escape. could you please do another version of that with sugawara and kuroo? or just suga please ?

Darling Traps Them in a Room to Escape (Yandere Haikyuu Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

Ushijima and Oikawa Version

Bokuto, Kageyama, and Kenma Version

Tendou and Hinata Version

A/N: HmmmmmmmmmIlikethisonemmmmmm. Thanks for the request! Honestly, I went a little off the rails with both, hope ya don’t mind. Sorry it’s been a while, but enjoy! (Side note: thanks for 1.7k followers cuz apparently that happened while I was gone holyfuckthankyou)

Word count: 2490

Sugawara Koushi: 

First, the keys jingled in the door. “YN, I’m home!”

“Hey Suga, can you come look at something in the bathroom for me?”

And that’s how, two hours later, you were still looking for those damn keys he set down when he went to help you. 

The plan felt genius at the time. At least until you realized you had trapped Sugawara inside with every single one of your bobby pins. Now you couldn’t use them and he couldn’t use them. Thankfully, you had enough brains to shove a kitchen chair under the door while you searched. 

“YN, please stop and think about what you’re doing, darling. This is ridiculous.” 

He sounded so calm. Then again, didn’t he always? That’s why it pissed you off so much. 

“Hmm, let’s see. Fuck no, and fuck you.” 

“Watch your language, darling.” His tone dipped tensely, but trapped inside the bathroom, he couldn’t do anything to you now.

“Fuck you twice, then, Suga.” 

You picked over everything in the living room. Behind the TV, under the couch-- hell, you even had half a mind to search inside the oven. Nothing. 

“YN, you’re acting absurd. Come let me out and just tell me what’s wrong.”

“YN, please don’t test my patience. Just let me out, love.”

Your blood boiled at how level-headed he was. He sounded so damn confident that you wouldn’t escape, so self-assured that you wouldn’t be able to leave him. 

I’m gonna prove him wrong.

You resorted to pen caps while he whined, chucking a few at the bathroom door in annoyance when he got a little too loud. “YNNNN please! I’m getting lonely in here. Won’t you come join me?” 

When you ran out of those, you moved onto trying to bend forks. “YN, at least just talk to me so I know you’re okay. For all I know, you could be really hurt and need my help out there.” CLANG! You chuckled at the yelp Sugawara let out after hurling the fork at the door. 

And then, for a solid ten minutes, Sugawara fell into silence. First, you counted it as a blessing. Maybe he passed out. Maybe he died.

You doubted you were that lucky. 

Instead, while you perked your tongue out the corner of your mouth and wiggled a single fork prong around inside the main door lock, you heard a noise that made you want to cry. 

*jingle* *jingle*

The keys. The motherfucking keys. He had them the entire time. You could’ve sworn you heard him set them down what must’ve been two hours ago now, but evidently you were wrong. 

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“C’mon, YN. Doesn’t this make your efforts pointless now?”

Your jaw clenched at that, and you knelt down once more, jamming the fork into the main lock with more force. Your vicious stabs flooded the apartment, and apparently only served as entertainment for Sugawara. 

“Sweetheart, you’re so adorable when you get all bratty like this. It almost makes me not want to punish you, but that just wouldn’t be fair now, would it?”

*Click*

The apartment fell into a dead silence. Sugawara sucked in a breath behind the bathroom door, and you stared in amazement when the lock clicked open. 

“Holy shit,” you mumble, hands shaking in surprise. “Holy shit. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, I got it! I fucking GOT IT!”

“YN, DON’T GO THROUGH THAT FUCKING DOOR OR YOU’LL BE SORRY!” Sugawara’s desperate cries almost got you to stop, but you were already on the high of winning. 

“Too late now.” You grinned and whipped open the unlocked door, dashing into the halls with Sugawara calling after you.

In the apartment, the walls were soundproofed and the windows were blacked out, but when you sprinted through the corridors, you were surprised to see you were on the first floor. A clear glass door had never looked so beautiful as you shoved your way out of the apartment building, hopping right over the steps to the street and landing flat on the sidewalk. Your muscles burned from the sudden burst of movement after being trapped in a confined space for so long, but you would make do. 

What you had to do now was find someone to help you, like-- there!

A police officer right down the street, dressed in full uniform and ordering from a hot dog stand. 

“OFFICER!” You raced toward him, almost tripping over your feet before sliding to a stop right at his side. At the shout, he had glanced up in surprise, but a look of recognition fell over his face at the sight of you. 

“YN? What are you-... are you okay?” The cop had warm, brown eyes and short, dark hair fluffed around his sunglasses, but he still didn’t look even the slightest bit familiar to you. 

“Do I… know you?” You furrowed your brows, glancing the officer up and down a couple more times just to make sure you were right. 

“Yeah- well, no, not really. But-”

“YN!” Oh shit. Sugawara scurried toward you in an all-out sprint, pushing past others on the sidewalk and reaching out a hand toward you. “YN, please!”

Without a second thought, you returned your gaze, more panicked this round, to the cop once more. “Please help me! That guy back there kidnapped me for, like, I don’t know how long, but I just escaped! Please, cuff him or something!” 

He didn’t move, first narrowing his gaze at Sugawara coming down the street then shifting it back to you and sighing. “Come with me.” In what you hoped was a comforting manner, the officer wrapped an arm around your shoulder and led you right in the direction of Sugawara. Instinctively, you panicked and tried to wiggle away, but with one “it’ll be okay” from the cop along with a kind smile, you relented and allowed him to lead you back. 

The instant you were close enough, Sugawara reached out for you, but the cop batted his hands away. “Suga, stop it!” Wait, what. The hopeful expression on your face fell away in exchange for blankness with a mix of confusion. What the fuck.

“Daichi, please, just help me! I don’t know how, but she got out!” 

Oh shit, they know each other. 

OH SHIT, THEY KNOW EACH OTHER!

The second that thought flitted through your brain, they were already both dragging you back toward the apartment building, both of their combined strengths overpowering you easily. “SOMEBODY HEL-” Sugawara shoved a hand over your mouth and helped Daichi lead you back into the building, straight back into your little, personal hell. 

First, you were sent to your room like a child while the grown ups discussed what went wrong and where. Couple of dickheads.

“Fuck you both.”

Sugawara only slammed the door in your face before talking to the cop.

“Jesus, Suga, I thought you said you could handle it?”

“I thought I could too, but she got out somehow!”

“It’s only been a damn month and I can’t even trust you to keep her safe inside for that long? I never even got to meet her, for fuck’s sake.” 

“I know, I know, but now you have, Daichi. Isn’t she beautiful? Just like when we first met her.”

“Right, but now we’re both on her bad side. How the fuck are we supposed to fix that?”

“Let me handle it. I know just how she likes to be punished.”

Well shit. Of course, they were in it together. Because who could possibly have worse luck than you, their darling.

Kuroo Tetsurou: 

You weren’t sure how it happened. One minute, he was entering your room, a forlorn look in his gaze seeming almost abnormal on his face. The next, his lips and hands were all over you, all over your body. And you let him. 

When you woke the next day, the sun wasn’t even in the sky. A glance to your nightstand told you it was turning close to four am, but only then did you seem to have some true clarity. 

Oh God. Oh God, what have I done?

Your body felt covered in germs, sticky with dried sweat and sore with stiff muscles. 

He touched me. I let him touch me.

Disgusting. Gross. Used. Unclean. But how could you excuse letting him do that to you? You hadn’t even put up a fight, and in the back of your mind, you remembered actually liking it. 

Kuroo was sound asleep by your side, his chest and cheek pressed to the mattress while an arm draped over your midsection. It was hot, too hot. At any second, you were afraid he would wake up and see the fear in your eyes, because you knew if he saw it, he wouldn’t let you go. 

Moving his arm was a painstaking process. Every time he let out a snore, you would move it just an inch higher, and after what felt like hours, you were finally free. You set his arm back down on the bed before rising to your feet and padding to the door. Opening it without a squeak seemed to be a worse challenge. 

Reek.

“Mmm, where are you going, Kitten?” 

It was everything about him that set your skin crawling. The raspy tone, the smug glint in his eye, the teasing lilt of the nickname. When you responded, you were surprised with how confident you sounded. 

“The bathroom. I’ll come right back, I just, uh, couldn’t hold it anymore.” Too much information? Maybe so, but it seemed to do the trick. Kuroo shifted onto his side and propped himself up on an elbow, the sheet over his body inching down a bit farther. 

“Hurry back.” 

A dismissal, and with a nod, you left. Truly, it wasn’t completely an excuse. You went to the bathroom and did your business, but while washing your hands, you tried to cleanse more. Hand soap was lathered all the way up to your elbows as you rubbed them raw, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. 

How could you let that happen? How could you just agree to letting him touch you? 

You scrubbed your face clean of the stale sweat and dabbed the skin with the hand towel. What have you done, YN? Movements slowing, you let the rag slip from your fingers before dragging your eyes down to your body. Neck, covered in bite marks. Wrists, red from a tight grip. Hips, bruised purple and blue. Kuroo had taken a part of you last night you had never wanted to give to him, not since he kidnapped you from your home seven months ago. He had said he was lonely, lost, saddened because he loved you so much and knew you would never feel the same. 

In a lapse of your own judgement, you foolishly said he was wrong. After months of being deprived of human contact, you were desperate for anyone’s touch. Now, you were paying the consequences. But you didn’t want to stay here. 

No. Get out of here.

When you left the bathroom, you caught sight of the sofa straight across in the living. Dragging it over was easy, but doing it quietly was a pain. As lightly as you could, you leveraged the furniture under your bedroom’s door knob. 

Then you began the search. 

“Kitten?” Still groggy. Good. 

His bedroom was clean. Nothing hidden in the box in a closet. Nothing hidden in the drawers of his dresser or nightstand. 

“YN?” The door knob rattled, but didn’t move. “Really, YN? You wanna do this now?”

The kitchen was clear, and so was the living room coffee table. 

“God, it’s so early. Can’t you just come back to bed and we’ll discuss this later?” 

Your hands shook the more you couldn’t find that damned key. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing!

“FUCK!” you shouted, running a hand through your hair and slamming the glass door of the console closed. Behind your bedroom door, Kuroo chuckled. 

“Having trouble, Kitten?” 

“God, I hate you,” you hissed, dropping to the couch and shoving your head into your hands. Not even a headache of frustration was arising. Only a tight pain was growing in your chest. Every time your heart thumped, it ached and choked you up. 

“Now, we both know that’s not true. After all, have you already forgotten what happened last night?” 

“Don’t…”

“Don’t what, Kitten? I know you don’t want to leave. Do you really want to go out into the real world after I’ve been with you? Can you live a normal life knowing that?” 

“Stop…”

“Last night, Kitten. You said you loved me. Said you always would-”

“I didn’t mean it!”

“Didn’t you? Didn’t you beg for more as I kissed you? Wasn’t it my name you moaned as I made love to you?” 

“JUST STOP!” You kicked up to your feet and wiped away your tears, stomping over to the bedroom door only to bang on it. “GOD, I HATE YOU SO MUCH!”

The worst part is he never even took it to heart. No, even after your screams and your cries, your pleas and your whimpers, you could still hear the arrogance in his tone. 

There was a smirk on his face. After what felt like hours of breaking down, you dropped into a worn out sleep right into the sofa lodged under the door. And when you woke, six long, dreamless hours later, you were back in the bed where it all began. 

“I knew you didn’t want to leave me, Kitten. Now stay here and rest. I’ll bring you breakfast when it’s ready.” His fingers, rough and hot, were gentle against your stiff cheek. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and when you felt your last drop of dignity wither, you reached out and snagged his hand again. 

“Tetsurou.”

“Hmm?”

You couldn’t even meet his gaze. It was so full of pure love that you resented the warmth it spread through your veins. “I don’t… I don’t want to love you.”

A muscle twitched in his cheek. 

“It’s wrong, what you did to me. Bringing me here. But… but I do anyway.”

At that, he turned away, but not before you saw genuine happiness twinkle in his eyes. 

You wanted to hate it. You really did. You wanted to wipe his hidden smugness right off his face. But instead, you pressed your cheek back into your pillow and watched him pad out of the room, only to stop in the doorway. 

“Kitten?”

“Hmm?” 

God, he was going to keep you in his arms forever. “I love you too.”

I APPRECIATE YUUUUUUUU 🦋🦋🦋🦋✨✨✨✨✨

I don’t know if you’re talking about me or Noya but I APPRECIATE Y(O)UUUUUU TOO!💜💜

Also I’m just gonna hop onto this submission to say it but it’s officially been a year since I first posted my first story!! Thank you so much for all the support I’ve gained in those 365 days, and I’m glad each and everyone of you took the time to even read the smallest of my works.

To be honest I wanted to try and write a second part to my story (Ban x Reader), or at least write anything at all, but I have been busy lately. That maybe be obvious since I haven’t posted in two weeks...

Anyway, again I just wanted to say thank you all for your support in the last year and I definitely look forward to any free time I may have to start posting again!

Take care of yourselves and have an amazing day💖💜

here’s a request, okay so like i’ve been sad recently so how would Tsuki, Bokuto, and Kenma (separately) cheer up their s/o who’s sad, thank you :) hopefully you do it, if you don’t it’s totally cool!

Cheering Up Sad S/O (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! Umm, and I know I’m not really qualified to help or anything, but I know one thing that always makes me feel better is laughing. Even if it’s forced, laughing always feels good to me, so maybe it’ll help you too! Anyways, hope you guys enjoy!

Word count: 802

Tsukishima Kei:

Honestly, he doesn’t take you seriously at first. 

Let’s be real, Tsukishima is shit with emotions

So he thinks you’re kind of just throwing a fit in the beginning. 

Then you start crying or just start being more quiet than usual and then he thinks oh SHIT.

He starts by standing beside you and just awkwardly patting your head.

Then he sighs and brings out the big guns, dragging you to the couch and setting you down there. 

He leaves and comes back five minutes later with popcorn, drinks and piles of blankets and he just cuddles you while watching his favorite tv show (documentary about dinos whattt)

I mean ur like crying so u can’t see the screen, right??

He’s got his lanky arms wrapped around you and you’re laying on top of him trying to steady your breathing. 

When you do, you give him a small kiss and mutter thank you before untucking your face. 

He’ll nod and then ask what you want to watch and that’ll be that. 

Basically yeah he’s gonna be extremely awkward around you cuz that’s just Tsukki.

But after he gets over his initial shock and is like “oh crap, I’m the boyfriend here, I’m the one who solves this,” he just gives you his best snuggles under the claim that he’s keeping you warm. 

“If you’re tears dry when you’re cold, then you could get hypothermia.” 

“Pshh, yeah did the T-rex tell you that?”

He’ll own up to it in the end and legitimately ask if you’re okay. You almost tear up at his sincerity but nod anyways and tackle him in a big hug once more. 

(He smiles lightly against your hair and rubs your back while enjoying the feeling of having you against him.)

Bokuto Koutarou:

Usually, you’re just as chipper as Bokuto is, so when you’re down in the dumps, he is too. 

Goes emo mode almost instantly when he notices you’re sad. 

Then he smacks himself out of it.

He carries you bridal style into a grocery store and lets you pick out your favorite snacks.

Y’all go home and he makes a whole-ass nest of blankets and pillows on the living room floor. 

Pillow Fort™

No movies or tv shows with sad scenes are allowed in this domain. Only comedies and fluff flicks.

He’ll feed you candy then beg you to feed him some too.

By the end of the night, he’s given you a massage, a bubble bath, and a cuddle to sleep.

He’s a big teddy bear, but also a solid teddy bear, so he’s a lil hard to snuggle with, but he’s warm so you don’t care. 

In the end, expect many hugs and kisses from this man, he is a very physical lover. 

And yes, the next day you will get breakfast in bed. Or brunch technically bc you both slept in till eleven.

Kozume Kenma:

This man is a listener. That’s all I gotta say.

He’ll let you vent about everything that’s been going on, and let’s be honest, there’s really nothing better than that.

He’s just about the best guy to have around when you’re sad.

If you want a hug, just ask and he’ll give you one. If you want a kiss, he’ll give you one too.

Honestly, he just wants to see you go back to being your normal happy self, so he’ll appeal to your every wish. 

I mean… that’s it.

After you’ve vented all your problems, he’ll ask what else you wanna do.

You want hugs. And that’s a fact. 

So yeah, he’ll give you hugs, and then he’ll give you his hoodie, and then he’ll give you his game and show you how to play cuz this boy is 🥺 level 100

He’s been sad before (I mean they all have but Kenma doesn’t like having a sad s/o) so he wants you to feel better as soon as possible. 

“You’re pressing the wrong buttons, YN.”

“No I’m not! This game is just STUPID!”

“YOU’RE STUP- I mean, yes the game is very stupid, yes.”

Guess who doesn’t get to touch his gameboy anymore.

By the end of the day, you’re both passed out in bed holding each other. Each of you is swaddled in his huge hoodies and cradling each other closely. 

*Next day*

“Kenma, where’s your game? I think I know how to play now.”

“I lost it.”

(Press X to Doubt)

soulmate AU prompts

- the voice you hear your thoughts in is your soulmate’s but you don’t know who they are until you hear them speak for the first time

- your soulmate’s initials are imprinted in your skin of your hand at birth and the letters burn more intensely as the day you meet them grows closer

- you’ve only ever seen your soulmate in your dreams but you can never remember what they look like, the imaginary life you have with them picks up wherever it leaves off when you fall asleep again. but the dreams stop after you meet them, but you have no way of know who they are because you still can’t remember their face

- your soulmate’s hair color is the color of your eyes. the color of your eyes also changes to match the color of their hair if they dye it

- you think you have a sleepwalking problem but it’s really just the universe trying to bring you to your soulmate when your mind is disengaged

- you’ve been sketching your soulmate’s face since you were old enough to pick up a pencil, the drawings become more realistic through the years as the day you meet comes near

- you’re born with a band of your soulmate’s skin color tattooed in your skin

- all of your dreams are your soulmate’s most significant memories from that given day

Indecipherable Secret Code (Tendou x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: You could finally say you loved him back!...In private. You were just so nervous of how the team would react if you ever said it in public, but luckily Tendou has just the solution.

A/N: I’m so glad you guys have been enjoying my stories recently! Here’s a little Tendou imagine that I got an idea for from this prompt by @otpdisaster​. Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1316

        The room was dark and silent, while rain trickled outside. You snuggle closer into Tendou’s lean arms and revel in the peaceful atmosphere. While basking in the aftermath of a tiring study session, you were being spooned by your red-headed boyfriend on your bed. Lightning flashed outside your window, and it suddenly gave you the courage to say what has been on your mind for a couple days now.

       “Satori?”

       “Hmm?”

       “I-” you take a deep breath, “I think I love you.” You tense in preparation for his reaction, only to feel him press his head into the back of your neck. His fingers twitch against your stomach. 

       “I’ve been waiting for you to say it back for weeks now,” he breathes out in relief. You warned him in the beginning of your relationship that you had a difficulty classifying your feelings and communicating them. Tendou had accepted it as a challenge. “I love you too,” he adds at last, grinning wildly against the back of your neck.

       “Umm.” You swallow nervously, not quite finished with the confession.

       “Yes?”

       “I do l-love you-”

       “God, I’ll never get tired of hearing that.”

       “-but I’m not exactly comfortable saying it in front of other people yet,” you rush out, twiddling your fingers next to his own. “I’m really sorry.” 

       “Don’t be,” Tendou chuckles and tugs you closer to his warm chest, “that’s completely fine.” His voice deepens and becomes quieter, more serious. “I’m just glad you feel the same way.”

       The room returns to its former silence, allowing the sound of rain splattering against your window to attract your attention. The warmth of the figure behind you begins to take its toll and your eyes flutter closed.

       “If I may ask,” Tendou pipes up once more, intertwining his long legs with your own, “What are you so afraid of?” The question leaves you red and embarrassed. Your feelings were always hard to read, but you decide to take a stab at explaining it.

       “I guess I’m just afraid people will make a big deal out of it. It is kind of abnormal for me to be all lovey dovey, you know?” Yes, it was true. You weren’t the most physically-loving person in the world. But that’s what had drawn you to Tendou in the first place. In the beginning of your relationship when he would hug you, you always hugged him a little longer than he intended, and though it made you feel self-conscious, he was always happy to hold you more and more often. 

       Touch-starved. He had called you that one day. It didn’t offend you, and you didn’t quite know if it was true, but it got you more physical contact with him, so you didn’t mind.

       “Well that is true,” he chuckles, then gasps dramatically. The sudden action causes you to flinch and his legs begin to shake against yours anxiously, wiggling the whole bed. 

       “What’s got you so excited now?” Your voice wavered thanks to his movements. He was like a puppy dog wagging its tail. 

       “I’m a genius!” Are you sure? “I have just discovered the solution to your problem.” His voice is mischievous next to your ear. Uh oh, what does that mean?

                               ~~~

       “Bean orange juice,” Tendou leaned over and whispered to you suddenly, causing your face to erupt in a blush. 

       “Bean orange juice too,” you mumble shyly, a small smile growing on your face.

       “What the hell are you two talking about?” Semi spins in his chair and sneers at the two of you in confusion. 

       “It’s code.” Tendou waggles his brows at you and you duck your burning face, hair hiding your ecstatic grin like a curtain.

       “For what?!”

       “Semi, please turn around in your chair and pay attention!” The teacher’s scolding forces him to drop the subject, but not before he throws a confused glare at the two of you. Huh, Satori was right. It works.

                               ~~~

       Volleyball practice had just finished, and you were waiting impatiently for your boyfriend to walk you home. “It’s not safe” my ass. I know how to poke someone’s eye out. 

       “YN!” Tendou races towards you and lightly smacks you on the forehead. The act makes you blink in surprise and you almost cuss him out before remembering oh right, it’s code.

       “Well right back at ya!” you smirk before thwapping your boyfriend’s forehead a little too excitedly. He stumbles back a step and you begin to sputter an apology. 

       “Oh, Satori, I’m so-” Your eyes widen in surprise when he starts to crack up. 

       “Gee, YN, I didn’t know you felt that strongly about me!” He drops a sweaty arm around your shoulders and directs you out of the gym with a wild smile, causing you to grin back up at him fondly. 

       “Okay, those two are weird, but have they always been that weird?” Shirabu furrows his brows, watching the two of you exit the schoolyard while patting each others’ foreheads repeatedly. 

       “Yes,” Semi answers, pursing his lips and shaking his head. “They’re always that weird.”

                               ~~~

        It was their first game of the season, and you wanted to give Tendou some personal encouragement before he began practice. 

       “Satori!” You wave to get his attention before jogging out to the court, wary of flying balls. His eyes gleam while he approaches you, smiling in amusement when you hold out your hand.

       “Good luck.” Your cheeks are flushed and you beam at him when he accepts the offer, shaking your hand gently. 

       “Thank you.” He winks at you and squeezes your hand once before releasing it. Goshiki watches this interaction in complete awe behind his eccentric teammate, eyes aglow while he waits as if in line. Just as you watch Tendou walk away, the first year pops up into your vision, scaring the absolute life out of you.

       “Hey YN!” He grins, sticking out his hand, “Put her there!” You giggle at his eager actions  and shake your head solemnly. 

       “Sorry Goshiki, I just don’t feel that way about you.” With a wave, you exit the gym, presumably to go cheer from the stands. Tendou smirks and pats his teammate’s shoulder before trotting over to practice. Frozen in shock, the poor spiker stares at his hand incredulously.

       “Why can’t I have a handshake?”

                               ~~~

They won, and they were going to Nationals once again. While it was nothing new for the boys, Tendou always grew excited at the fact, and you were just the same. 

       “Satori!” You raced down to the court.

       “YN! We’re going to Nationals!” He laughs joyfully after you tackle him in a hug, pressing him as close as possible to your chest. 

       “I know!” you nod with him, face stuck in a grin that was beginning to ache. “You did amazing!” Now’s your chance! Do it, YN!

       “I-” you swallow and take a deep breath, leaning back to gaze into his eyes while you finally say it in public. “I…” your chest deflates. I can’t do it. “I hate Shirabu,” you mutter, looking away ashamed. Said boy squawks in offence behind you.

       “Hey,” Tendou lifts your chin, flashing you a reassuring grin, “it’s okay.” He cups your face and draws you in closer. “I hate Shirabu too,” he whispers softly, pressing his forehead against yours. His maroon eyes are peering so adoringly into your own that you can’t help but sigh in relief, drifting forward to press your lips against his.

       Shirabu, however, is less than impressed by your words. 

       “Okay, what the fuck, you two?!”

Praiseworthy (Bokuto x Reader) (NSFW)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: After winning his volleyball game, Bokuto comes over wanting to celebrate. The both of you sure know how to throw a thrilling two-person party. 

A/N: (I literally listened to “Crazy in Love Remix” the whole time I wrote this, so it gets a little serious and steamy. I ain’t sorry.) I’m definitely going to hell for this…. Oh well. I wrote this to celebrate getting 100 followers, so thank you so much! This is my first NSFW however, so please don’t raise it to any high standards. Anyways, here’s Bokuto with a praise kink. Enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT!!!, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex,  praise kink

Word count: 2659

        You were at home working on an essay for your class and moping about missing your boyfriend’s volleyball game when you got his texts.

Owl-baby: WE WON OUR GAMEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!

Owl-baby: I’m coming over to get my reward ;)

       Smiling widely at the news, you shook your head at his antics. His reward usually consisted of movies and tight cuddles while he excitedly told you all about the game you shamefully missed. You looked forward to nights like those just as much as he did, but you were usually less vocal about it. Nonetheless, you were thankful your parents were out visiting relatives for the whole weekend, and began to prepare the living room for the inevitable snuggle session with Bokuto. Movie, check. Popcorn, check. Blankets, check. Boyfriend… the doorbell rang just as you picked up your phone to text him. A light, happy feeling flowed through your chest as you answered the door. As per usual, you choked out a breath after being tackled in a tight hug, but you never minded. 

       “Did you get my message?! We won, YN, we’re going to Nationals!” He was shaking with excitement and squeezed your sides as a result, making you jerk in his arms before laughing. 

       “Yes, of course I heard, Kou. I’m so proud of you.” You smiled softly while pulling away, holding his cheeks in your palms and rubbing them gently with your thumbs. Bokuto bit his lip at the action and placed his hands over your own, leaning in for a slow, deep kiss which you gladly returned. When he broke away, his golden orbs were abnormally dark and his pupils dilated after making eye contact with you. For an instant, his hands gripped yours harder before his eyes glanced back down at your lips, licking his own instinctively.

       “Tell me again,” he mumbled, cheeks growing red at his own words. His voice, however, was strong and didn’t waver once while he watched you intensely.

       “What?” you asked confusedly. You weren’t quite sure what he was getting at.

       “Tell me how good I did. Please.” You faltered at his request and sucked in a short breath at the implication. Running your fingers down his neck and back into his hair ever so slowly, you leaned your head in closer to his ear. 

       “You did so good, baby. So, so good.” His breaths were labored as you tugged on the strands between your fingers. His own hands, which had fallen down to your hips, were bruising at this point. Suddenly, he crashed his lips against yours once more and slammed you back against the wall in your home’s entryway. The pictures on the wall shook with the force, but you were too distracted to care. Even the movie playing in the background faded away as Bokuto’s tongue asked for entrance into your mouth. You let him in easily, fighting for dominance while occasionally separating for a breath. Every time you two rejoined, your teeth clashed from the battle, but it was too heated for you to notice. His hands slid down to your thighs and tugged on them encouragingly, a signal for you to jump. You listened to the orders and hooked your feet together behind his back. He carried you to your room blindly but surprisingly well, lips never breaking for a second. 

       His strong hands clutched your ass while you kept your own grip in his hair, keeping his head angled up at you for easy access. Bokuto backed up into your bedroom and kicked the door shut, the slam not concerning either of you. Pulling away, you both gasped for air with puffy lips and rosy cheeks while your boyfriend navigated his way to your bed. Slowly lowering you down, you fell back gently onto the soft blankets, tugging his face to join you. He smirked, running his thumb along your lower lip to spread the stray drop of saliva that had been located there before obeying your wish, his tongue reentering your mouth. His hands left your ass to slide up your shirt, caressing your sides tenderly. You, on the other hand, hooked your fingers into his pants’ belt loops and drew him in, grinding harshly against the hard tent in his pants. 

       “Oh fuck,” he groaned breathlessly, pressing his forehead against yours while he returned the favor, sticking to the pace you had set while his fingertips tweaked your nipples through your bra. The touch shot a wave of pleasure straight down to your heat, and your thighs tightened around his hips instinctively at the sensation. Your whimpers were loud and shameless as you ground into him, ignoring the gushing crawling its way down your thighs. Bokuto looked back into your eyes and silently asked to undress you. You nodded in approval with heavily lidded eyes, lifting your arms to help him in the deed, and you did the same for him, throwing away the devilish shirt before tracing your fingertips in the grooves of his abs. 

       “Ah!” You let out a cry of surprise when the golden-eyed man tore your bra away from your chest, ripping the fabric in the process as he tossed it forgettably behind him. On any other day, you would have scolded him. Today, however, there was no time. You needed him. You didn’t even mind when his eyes hungrily stared at your chest before he pounced, taking a hardened nipple into his mouth and harshly sucking. When you had first gotten together, your hands had instantly reacted, covering your breasts shyly while you avoided eye contact. He had to gently coax your hands away while constantly reminding you that you were gorgeous. Now, you learned your lesson. Bokuto thought you were beautiful and he wanted you. And there was no stopping him when he wanted something. Even the second time he had seen you bare while you tried to hide, he jumped on you too quickly. Every time he got you naked, he was always somewhere on your skin. Touching, stroking, caressing, biting. Bokuto used everything he had when he was with you. Teeth, hands, even his thighs were often used to hold you down while you trembled under his will. 

       “Oh shit,” you moaned breathlessly. His mouth was leaving a display of hickeys all over the span of your chest, and one of his hands had slid under your arched back to press you closer to him and keep you still as you squirmed. Your lungs were begging for air as you gasped at the feeling of Bokuto’s lips, hands tugging his hair harshly. While you were distracted, his other hand traced a hot trail down the middle of your body, sliding past your belly button and slipping into your thin panties. Huh, that’s weird, my pants are gone. You had been too caught up that you hadn’t even noticed the only barriers now separating you and your boyfriend were his boxers and your barely-there undergarments. 

       “Damn, baby, is that lace?” He uttered hotly while glancing up at you from your freshly marked chest. Hesitantly, you nodded in response and he groaned, abruptly burying a finger deep inside you. You mewl loudly, moving your hands down to dig your nails into his shoulders, leaving marks you wouldn’t mind seeing in the morning. Your head falls back, pressing harshly into the mattress while Bokuto begins to rub furious, fast-paced circles onto your clit. “You treat me so well, sweetheart,” he groans, his other hand squeezing your hip to keep you firmly in place as you shiver from pleasure. 

       “Ah fuck!” you whine desperately. “Keep going, you’re doing so good.” The encouragement causes him to whimper while he digs another finger inside you, thrusting in and out too quickly for you to comprehend. The waves of pleasure are wracking through your body like never before, and you yelp when your boyfriend suddenly presses his thumb brutally against your clit, making your whole body convulse. At last, it becomes too much and you shakily warn him, “I’m gonna come.” 

       “Come for me, baby.” His words trigger an abundance of arousal, and immediately your juices flow out around his fingers as the bubble finally bursts inside your chest. Your moans are almost pornographic at this point, but you can’t help it. He feels too good. Bokuto watches your display with glimmering, ravenous eyes, and swiftly hops off the bed, removing his boxers in a split second before tugging your soaked panties down your legs and tossing them away. You’re still trying to catch your breath when he mounts on top of you, sliding his hips once more between your thighs like it’s where they’re meant to be. You don’t mind that thought, basking in the idea before it flies away along with the rest of your thoughts as Bokuto returns a finger back to your heat, gathering some remains from the inside of your thighs and popping it inside his mouth, giving it a small taste. 

       His reaction makes you burn crimson as he moans. “Goddamn baby.” He looks into your eyes and starts to hover over you, grabbing both of your wrists and trapping them directly above your head with one hand while the other positions his throbbing erection at your entrance. “The only one who gets to taste you is me,” he informs you possessively, golden orbs glowing at the thought. 

       You smile tenderly at him and agree. “Of course baby, you’re so good for me. I wouldn’t dream of it.” Your praise causes him to puff out his chest and smirk, and you wiggle your hips to remind him of the original plan. He takes the hint and abruptly thrusts into you in one swift motion. Your whole body jolts at the movement and you moan in surprise. Bokuto releases your hands and grabs both of your hips tightly, plunging into you swiftly. The feeling of him rapidly reaching deeper and harder inside of you, raking along your walls harshly causes your toes to curl. He hits that oh-so wonderful spot deep inside of you, and your jaw drops in pure euphoria at the feeling. His groans match yours in volume, and you absolutely adore that about him. Taking advantage of your free hands, you raise them up to his intensely focused face, caressing his cheek softly while moaning aloud. 

       His golden eyes burst open and he leans his head into your touch, his thrusts slowing slightly. You rub your thumbs back and forth across the apples of his cheeks while cooing, “You feel so good, Kou, don’t ever stop.” The reaction from him is instant. Already prepared, you dig your fingernails into his back and drag them down while hanging on for dear life as he pumps into you harder than before. The stinging from his back combined with your tightness causes him to bury his face into your neck, biting down in pleasure as his thrusts quicken even more. You whimper at his teeth, crying out and grabbing his biceps for stability as the mattress squeaks, the noise reverberating around the room and mixing lewdly with the sounds of pleasure. He peels your hands away, pressing them into the sheets above your head before intertwining his fingers with your own. His erratic pace begins to lose its steady rhythm as he grunts out your name deeply, gripping your palms harder. 

       Watching your face from above, he relishes in the sight of your open mouth and darkened eyes, not hesitating to combine your lips before he mumbles against them, “You’re so tight baby, I’m gonna come.” His hands grasp yours tightly and you squeeze them back in return.

       “Me too, Kou. Ah! Just like that, don’t stop!” His thrusts speed up in response, and the coil that had been slowly winding up deep within you is becoming unbearably compressed. Finally, it breaks, and you clench around him tightly while you release, overflowing just as before while your legs shudder uncontrollably. Bokuto groans at your tightness and releases as well, collapsing right on top of you. You let out a huff of air at the sudden drop, and giggle softly while running your hands through his sweaty, black and white hair. Your tired boyfriend’s breathing is labored, but still more controlled and calm than your own as you both bask in the afterglow you’ve created. Stupid volleyball stamina. As if he heard your thoughts, Bokuto perks back up, heaving himself back up on his hands and knees over you and peering deep into your eyes pleadingly. 

       “One more round?” he bargains, his hands running up and down your thighs, every time drawing closer to your sore, abused opening. He wants to keep going?! You shake your head and open your mouth to refuse, only to mewl and whimper when he begins to rub your overstimulated clit. He was harshly riding the fine line between pain and pleasure, but that wasn’t new with Bokuto. Suddenly, your mind goes foggy when he begins to stroke up and down along your core, enticing high-pitched whines out of you. He smiles brightly when your hands reach up and grip his shoulders in preparation for what was to come next. 

       Maybe just one more round won’t hurt.

                               ^^^

       So that was a fucking lie.

       When you woke up the next morning trapped in Bokuto’s tight grasp, your whole body howled in pain. Your fingers, your back, your legs. Hell, even your toes were sore. But that didn’t distract you at all from the amount of pressure in your bladder. I have to pee, I have to pee, I have to pee. You kept repeating that to yourself while you attempted to squirm out of your boyfriend’s death grip, only to panic and groan at the feeling of his arms tightening around your waist. His movements didn’t help your situation at all. Startled by the overwhelming fear that you might just not make it to the bathroom, you begin to writhe around like a fish out of water in his arms. At last, Bokuto whines from behind you, releasing an exhausted yawn. 

       “Why are you trying to leave?” He drops a muscular thigh over your hips, effectively putting a halt to your wriggling as well as more firmly trapping you to the mattress. You scoff humorously at the action before twisting in his grip to look at his face. 

       Patting his cheek, you sulkily explain, “I have to go to the bathroom.”

       “Do you have to?” His arms tighten.

       “Yes!” you exclaim exasperatedly. He opens his arms and you smile gratefully before turning and sitting up, setting your feet on the floor. However, just as you stand up, your knees give in and collapse directly under you, causing you to face plant on the floor with a yelp.

       “Oh shit, YN! Are you okay?!” Bokuto rapidly crawls his way over to you from his side of the bed, peering down at you on the floor.

       “Oh yeah, just peachy,” you sass back, muffled by a mouthful of carpet. Your arms burn as you try to lift yourself up. You settle for rolling over like a beached whale and shyly make eye contact with your boyfriend. “Umm, can you help me for a sec, babe?” 

       “Oh, of course!” He scrambles off the mattress and lifts you into his arms, carrying you into the bathroom bridal-style and setting you down on the sink. Ever so slowly, you hop off and stand on two trembling legs like a newborn giraffe, hanging onto the porcelain for dear life while your boyfriend watches with an amused expression. 

       “That good, huh?” he asks cheekily, waggling his eyebrows at you. You don’t hesitate to slam the door in his face, your cheeks on fire. He wasn’t wrong, though. It was totally worth it. 

Operation Breakup Backfires (Bakugou x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: What’s the harm of a little breakup prank? It doesn’t even work anyway….

A/N: There’s no shortage of Bakugou ideas in my brain, I swear. Also, this might be the first of a little prank “series” I’ll be writing for multiple characters, idk. It just depends if I get more ideas. Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1236

       “I’m gonna do it.” You knew it was mean, but you really wanted to see how your explosive blondie would react. 

       “Okay, yeah that’s great,” Kirishima says, “but you know he’s gonna spontaneously combust, right?” You click your tongue. 

       “Oh c’mon, it won’t be that bad.” Crossing your arms, you relax deeper into your assigned seat while Kirishima shakes his head frantically, his palms slamming against the surface of your desk.

       “You’ve met Bakugou, right?” 

       “Yes, I’ve met my own boyfriend,” you scoff, jaw twitching. 

       “Then you know how stupid of an idea this is. The Baku-beast is gonna come out of hibernation if you do this!” Was it ever in hibernation? You shake the thought away and wave your hand dismissively. 

       “I won’t let it go that far, I promise.” Kirishima raises his brows at you.  

       “I don’t believe you. This is gonna be a nightmare,” he mutters with wide, anxious eyes. 

       “He’s not gonna hurt me!” The redhead nods. 

       “Oh, I know that. What’ll happen is he’ll take it out on the rest of us and it’ll be a bloodbath!” He nervously rubs the back of his neck while mumbling, “My throat never looks good post-Baku-strangle.” The phrase mystifies you.

       “Ok. First of all, you have a name for that?” You shake your head, baffled. “Second of all, quit being a wuss.” He grows offended at your words, holding a hand to his chest. 

       “I’m not being a wuss, I’m being logical,” he corrects you with a confident head nod. You roll your eyes at the act. Ever so discreetly, you cough out a loud “Wuss!” while mockingly covering your mouth. Kirishima hurls a withering glare at you. 

       “I am not-”

       “Shush!” You cover your lips with a finger and nod your head towards Bakugou stepping through the doorway. The redhead huffs out a breath and walks away. 

       “Mum’s the word!” you call after him.

                               ###

       The common room is empty aside from you, waiting anxiously in a chair for your boyfriend. You had texted him that you wanted to talk after school, and got a “K” in response. It was enough for you. The doors behind your chair slam open loudly and you take a deep breath before popping up and taking on a solemn face. 

       “What did you want to talk about?” Bakugou asks with pursed lips. His tone is sharp and impatient, but you’ve never heard it any differently. Sighing, you slowly approach him and bite your bottom lip, softening your eyes. 

       “I want to break up.” 

       Silence.

       Bakugou’s face doesn’t change. Not a single twitch in his body, or a widening of his eyes. He seems… unaffected.

       “No.” 

       No? No?! He just rejected your breakup, tackled it and slammed it down like a pro-wrestler before suffocating it with a pillow using one word. ‘No.’

       “Katsuki,” you lick your lips and he tenses at the action, “I just don’t think we’re working out-”

       “We exercise all the time, YN, I think we’re fine.” His voice is rough and guttural, and you notice his hands curling into fists. 

       “You know that’s not what I meant.” You drag your gaze back up to his face, giving him a pleading look and desperately trying to sell your prank.

       “I don’t care,” his jaw clenches and he narrows his vermilion eyes at you, “we’re fine.” The hiss makes you flinch as he stares you down threateningly. Oh shit, he’s fucking scary. 

       You were conflicted; you wanted to be agitated at the fact that he wouldn’t let you break up with him, even though you didn’t really want to end things with him, but you were also touched at the way he wasn’t willing to let you go. However, when his feet stomp loudly against the floor as he approaches you with dilated pupils, fear takes the lead in the race of your emotions. You stumble back at his sudden advancement.

       “Yeah, no, you’re totally right,” you hurriedly agree with him, nodding your head frantically, “I’m good, you’re good, it’s all good.” You give him finger guns and a cheesy smile but his expression never changes. You want to crawl into a hole and die just to avoid his intimidating gaze. 

       “So, um, I’m gonna go to my room now.” 

       “Okay.” With his approval of your release, you hightail it down the hall, barging into your dorm and slamming the door behind you before deflating against it. Hands pressed against your flushed cheeks, you trudge into the bathroom and stare at yourself in the mirror. 

       “What the fuck was that?” you whisper to your reflection. It doesn’t respond, thankfully. The faucet pours cold water that you splash onto your burning face. The beating in your chest is racing so fast it hurts, and you press a hand harshly against it, feeling the swift buh-bumps under your fingertips. That, what had just happened down there, was indeed a failed prank. And now you knew for a fact you were stuck with him. It’s not like you minded that but shit, he was scary! Nope. Never again. No more pranks on Bakugou. 

                              ###

       That night, as you lie in bed beside him, he slowly rolls over to face you, gently dropping an arm over your waist. 

       “Did you really mean it?” he whispers. The room is too dark to spot any emotions on his face, but his words are hesitant. Gulping loudly, you rest a hand on his cheek and throw a leg over his hips. 

       “No, it was just supposed to be a dumb prank.” At your confession, he purses his lips and you start to trace random patterns on his face to ignore your growing blush, ashamed at your actions. 

       “You could’ve just dumped water on me or something,” he gruffly responds, hand pressing into the skin of your back firmly. 

       “Y-yeah, maybe I’ll try that next time.” You look away with a nod and clear your throat. 

       “Just,” he continued, eyes intently focused on the wall to avoid your gaze as well, “don’t ever do that again. I don’t think I could handle it.” Bakugou leans his head into your touch but doesn’t say another word. 

       If you didn’t know any better, or perhaps if you didn’t love him, you would have smirked or snickered, or maybe even pointed out how abnormally gentle he was in that moment. But you weren’t cruel, and you didn’t want to lose the warmth by your side at night. Or the grip around your body during the day. Or his comforting presence every living moment. He was it for you, and you seemed to be it for him. 

       A smile grows on your face at this realization and you run your thumb over his cheek adoringly. The corner of his mouth twitches before you press a kiss against his lips and tuck your face into his chest. 

       “I won’t leave you. Ever.” He smiles into your hair.

        “Good, ‘cause I’m not letting you go.” 

       Yeah, your prank kind of backfired. But hearing him say that made it all worth it.

In the Black Widow’s Nest (Henry Creel x Reader) 🕷️Chapter 1🕷️

*GIF not mine*

Summary: 

Prince Henry of the Creel Dynasty is finally in search of a wife, and in the spirit of courtship, King Victor has invited young royalty from all neighboring kingdoms to vie for his hand. But with so much royalty introduces the need for many more maids in the castle than usual.

Enter: You.

You're nothing but a servant in his home, an intruder in his prized library, and an utter nuisance in his mind. But then you survive his attack, and in an unexpected way nonetheless. That makes you... interesting. 

You've caught his eye---congratulations! Now, you must deal with the consequences of loving a heartless prince in a world where far worse things lurk in the castle than dirty garderobes.

A/N: All i ask is that u imagine henry creel’s evil face on jace wayland’s body that’s it that’s all u gotta do, the fic will do the rest. this may or may not be a series, i do have a few ideas for it (but let it be known begging will not speed up the process). one final comment: henry creel hot. Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 4328

Amongst the cobwebs, the dust, and the black widows, in the abandoned royal library surrounded by the scent of mildew and what once was and is no longer, a pair of eyes watched your every move. Like two frozen fingers poking into the back of your skull, the gaze ran chills down your spine and tightened the muscles in your shoulder blades.

Every move you made was stiff. Despite the season outside being spring, winter had found perpetuity within the four towering walls. There were no windows nor any lit chandeliers; the only light was provided by the brass candlestick that had been forced into your hand before you were thrown into the library, with the promise of being released after ten hours or at the the sight of one hundred spotless, unblemished bookshelves—whichever came first. 

Decidedly, you had three hours left. 

The candle was almost completely diminished to a pool of wax, and the flame on its wick had long weakened and begun flickering. You suspected one last breeze would leave you in complete darkness and at the mercy of whomever was watching you from the shadows. No matter how many times you weaved in and out of the bookshelves that stood at twice your height, five parallel rows of grimy mahogany stacked with fading leather spines, you could not escape the unmistakable feeling. 

This person had not made a sound when they had entered the room. There were no new footsteps tracked in the dust layered on the floor aside from yours, and you had not even heard the twin doors creak open as they had when you entered. You couldn’t hear them over your own breathing and certainly not over the pounding of your heart. 

With every precarious flick of your feather duster over the worn titles, the clouds of your efforts mingled with those of your own exhales. You kept your gaze low, eyes focused on only the task in front of you with the hope—artificial hope—that if you did not disturb them with your own attention, they would eventually remove theirs from you. 

Time trudged by as you shifted from bookshelf to bookshelf, the clogs on your feet scraping the hardwood floors. You kept a wooden chair in tow, collected from one of the tables arranged in the center of the room, and dragged it in closer to the nearest bookshelf, clambering atop the seat and lifting onto your toes to dust the top row of books. The cobwebs were thickest here, spiders having been left to their lonesome far too long and creating their own colony. 

You could barely reach and dusted blindly, allowing the length of the feathers to do most of the work as you ignored the cramps festering throughout your calves. A soft gust of wind floated past and tousled the flyaways at your brow, and as you purse your lips to blow them back and out of your lashes, the room flickered and fell into darkness. 

The candle had finally gone out. 

You squinted and hissed a curse under your breath, your gaze snapping to the outline of the table, where you could barely make out the bowl of wax and nothing more. Just my luck, you thought as you withdrew your feather duster from the bookshelf top. You would have to retrieve a new taper from one of the maids’ closets, though you sincerely doubted the head maid would be all too pleased with your explanation.

Excuses, excuses, you could imagine her barking at you, ire swirling in her small, black eyes. Candles don’t just go out on their own.

“She’ll probably just set my hand on fire and lock me back in here,” you grumbled, huffing as you grabbed the backing of your chair to dismount. A faint tickle on the back of your hand drew your attention. “Hell will freeze over before she—”

Spider.

You yelped, a blasphemy falling from your lips as your clogs slipped on the polished wood seat. Your back hit the ground first, a pained shock shooting from your tailbone up to where your head smacked against the ground with the whiplash of your fall. 

White sparkles lit up your vision, and you sputtered out a cough, not bothering to blink them away. An ache throbbed at your lower back, pulsing at the same wavelength as the ringing in your ears and drawing a groan from your lips. An odd smarting festered up your spine, not unlike a chill. 

Carefully, you slumped back, your head resting against the hard floor and your legs straightening out. You didn’t want to get back up; you didn’t want to move. For a few moments, you let the pain overcome you while you wheezed for breath, choking on the dust that had become unsettled by your fall. It rose and hung in the dark air around you, blurred and wavering with your heartbeat. 

For a few moments, you forgot that someone had been watching you. 

And you certainly didn’t want to know where the spider had wound up. 

The smallest vibration of light footsteps trembled underneath your fingertips, and a sharp pain shot through your skull. Light, blinding and bright and excruciatingly insistent, is all you can see when the vibration stops and some glowing form hinges over you. 

“Not dead,” are the words you think you hear, husked in a monotonous, low gravel and feeding into the loud hum in your head. It’s muffled between the blood pounding in your ears and the hazy confusion that had begun to fog over your mind. 

“Not yet, at least.”

You licked your lips, eyes fluttering closed, then open, then closed again. “What?” you mumbled breathlessly. 

The glowing form dims, gradually painted by an orange hue. When metal thuds on wood, you guess it must be a candle joining your pool of wax on the table, and before long the presence hovers over you again. Tree sap swarms where the scent of mildewed books had been lingering, and, in a cruel twist of fate, you hazard a guess that this is one of the courtiers the head maid had shrilled about avoiding at all costs. 

Or worse—a member of the royal family. 

But how? And why? None of them would ever idle about in a damp, endlessly cold library. The smell bordered on revolting, half of the volumes were wrinkled and illegible, and you couldn’t walk two steps inside without grime caking your face and clothes. Not to mention, the spiders. Disgusting, horrid spiders. 

Black widows, if the head maid was to be believed. 

The wintry library would never be home to festivities of the upper class, not even the occasional unsolicited rendezvous. There were dining rooms and bedrooms and poor, innocent gardens for all the horrific things they did to one another; entire wings dedicated to the sybaritic tendencies of royalty. 

But this man before you—oh, how otherworldly he was. 

You could believe that he had been the one watching you with how his eyes pierced you in this moment, a being such as him the only one capable of having a tangible effect with a single glance. 

You took in his sharp cheekbones, the soft slope of his nose, his slate blue eyes. His face was haloed by mussed, golden hair, and two pale pink lips set against each other as a look of disinterest with ease. His entire appearance, from his lithe figure to the way his eyes dragged over you, exuded a superiority that had been trained to perfection. 

Staring at him felt like drinking a sweet wine, far too indulgent and alluring to ever be truly satiated, and yet you know all too well it would be condemning to keep on as you are. You know this man has a rank heavens above yours; his skin, tanned and unblemished, has never felt the dust and dirt that encompasses you every day, and his body has never held your scars.

In your muddled daze, you imagined barreling headfirst into damnation for acquainting with this handsome being. Whether he be a marquess or a lord or, God forbid, even a duke, being seen in such close quarters with him was strictly forbidden, especially with the royal prince’s season for courting beginning in a week. 

And then you felt yourself spiraling—you imagined him curling over you, his deft fingers sliding underneath your nape, tracing the curve of your scalp and feeling for injury. You imagined his eyes warming pleasantly as he found you safe and unharmed. You imagined he gave a damn. 

But he didn’t. He never would. 

His hands fell to his hips, the loosely fitted, half-unbuttoned white tunic he donned exposing more toned skin while he glowered down at you.

He certainly wasn’t going to wax poetic about your welfare. 

“No blood.” His head tilted to one side slightly, blond tufts of hair following suit. “And thankfully no mess. I’d have hated to invite yet another servant in here, even if it was to drag your body out.”

A shiver tore through your spine, and you had the most horrible feeling that if you died somehow in this moment, no one would bat an eye—especially not the man before you.

His voice had that regal lilt, the one you could have never gained in your small village outside of the castle. You’d only ever heard it on a few of the higher-ranking maids—certainly none of the girls you had been hired with had such accents either—as well as some passing royalty on your first few days of traipsing the castle with a guide. His voice was deep and raspy, as though he spent his days either growling out orders or not speaking at all. You wonder if that was how he found it so easy to watch you mutely.

Feeling entirely too vulnerable, supine as you were, you brace your hands against the floor and writhe your way into a sitting position, head swimming with vertigo. Bile rises in your throat, and you press your eyes closed, tight, waiting out the wave. The idea that dragging your gaze away from him had played a part in the nausea tickles the back of your mind. 

He watches, seeming somewhat interested, as you struggle.

Once, in your small village, a wolf had snuck into the farmer’s fields. You remember watching from your doorway that morning, the sun barely risen, as the wolf tackled a single lamb and began eating it alive. 

The blood coated its paws and muzzle. Bones crackled with the snapping jaws. Even after the lamb had stopped squealing, the hunger in the wolf’s eyes never quite seemed satiated. 

Something in the man’s and the wolf’s gazes made them indistinguishable to you in that moment. 

The cruel sneers and jeering laughs of the royals you’d seen so far could only contain so much antagonism. This man was cut from a different cloth. 

His body, all relaxed muscles and agile limbs, had a vigorous, agitated thing running within the veins of his arms, sleeves rolled to the elbows; the cruelty in his mien was something you had only ever encountered in wild animals. 

Panic chills the sweat on your brow. Laboriously, you wrench one hand on a bookshelf, hoisting yourself up despite the blaring pain climbing up your spine, and onto your feet. You can feel the weakness in your knees the second you try to take another step, the defiant outcry of your mind and body as you try to move, but the man is so close. The warning sirens in your mind wail. 

A hand grapples around your free wrist, insistent and rigid. 

“Stop.”

You flinch, and your first instinct is to twist away and run. His grip is iron-tight, though, and without much resistance, he spins you back to face him. Frantically, your eyes once more swallow up his bronze, toned skin in the shadows of his candle, waiting for a strike. 

In return, the weight of his gaze bows your shoulders, fostering an urge to find a corner and curl up until you can’t anymore. Something you can scarcely identify flickers through his blue eyes. He’s staring at your wrist, locked in his, and then he’s staring at you, his lips tight and his face hard as stone. Like before, you can feel him searching you, taking note of your every move. 

He’s scrutinizing you like a bug, uncertain of just how and in what way to crush you under his heel. It’s the way he had when his gaze was all you knew about him, and you have no trouble imagining yourself splatting underneath his boot. 

But a sound rings in the distance, drawing your attention away from him entirely. 

Ringing. Ringing like church bells. Ringing like the clang of the metal clapper striking tarnished ocher and rust. The kingdom’s clock tower made the same sound. 

A chime, maybe.

Or a knell. 

But you were almost positive that sound couldn’t be heard so far away, crammed deeply within the towering castle walls. Especially at its volume. 

It chimes again, and you slam both hands to your ears, heart pounding. It’s deafening. You can’t breathe, and you can barely see, still tangled up in the man’s eyes. They’ve grown so cold and strike you so much harder your teeth begin to chatter. 

“No,” you whisper, though you’re not quite sure what you’re protesting. “Please.”

His pale lips turn red as he smirks, and every angle of his face sharpens into focus. The room fades into black and white. Musty bindings and rotting pages no longer invade your nostrils. It’s like your brain is shutting off each sense one by one so you can take in more of him. 

And you can’t seem to look away. 

No. 

By the third chime, you can barely feel the pain that had been radiating through your body, and the release is almost blissful. Beckoning. You’re swathed up in the tranquility, ears stuffed with cotton and head buzzing in the silence. When your whole body starts rocking back and forth, waiting for another agonizing chime, your knees begin to feel like rubber, suddenly too malleable to stand upon.

A fourth chime, earsplitting. 

They buckle. 

You snap your hands forward in a panic, yelping when you stumble.

All your senses return as fast as the pinch of a needle. Blood roars in your ears, and soreness floods your every limb. It’s like trying to squeeze into clothes that have become too small and completely ripping the seams—all the sights, the smells, the feelings overload your brain too quickly, causing it to swell and split open. 

Your only lifeline is a radiating source of heat, and you cling to it so hard you're half afraid you might smother it. But when your embrace tightens, so too does your grip on reality. You can almost unscramble your own thoughts again—all the curse words you’ve ever known combined with prayers to the heavens above. Giving yourself into refuge becomes second nature, and you burrow further into the cradle of warmth.

A jolt runs up and down your back, and your skull feels cracked in two. 

But the eerie quiet of the library registers anyway. The chiming is gone. 

Blissful silence remains, only occasionally pierced by your gasping breaths. You want to nuzzle deeper, the warmth firm and solid, as the simmering underneath your skin wanes, yet there seems to be no space left that your form hasn’t already curled into.

“What just happened?” Your voice wavers, and it echoes back so loudly that you flinch. 

You can’t see a thing. The dim outlines of the room fuzz and blend, and if you weren’t standing on your own two feet, you wouldn’t have been able to tell up from down. But the chill still nips at your skin. The library hasn’t changed. Nothing’s changed but you. 

But there’s no explanation for the bell-ringing, the sensory overload. It must have all been in your head; it feels like any second now, your ears are going to pop and reality will flood back in. You’re alive. But whatever had just happened was as close to death as you could have imagined—

A breath away from becoming nothing. 

So what stopped it?

Even more—what started it?

The questions slipped your mind the second you heard the library door creak. The pitiful sound allowed the entrance of sunlight directed by the hallway’s window, and the stiffness of your bones crackled at the thought of even more warmth. You felt half-thawed and left for dead, save for the fount of heat caught in your white-knuckled grasp. 

You went still. 

Heat. 

Heat in the library. 

That had to have been one of the most preposterous realities you had imagined since you had first stepped foot in here seven hours ago—and you had raked through your mental fantasies quite thoroughly in that time. 

Carefully, as though jaws might snap at you from the darkness, you withdrew your arms from the motionless frame and craned your head upward. 

Dear God. 

The man was even more beautiful when washed in distant sunlight. Heart-wrenchingly so. More alluring when his hair glowed golden, combed back waves ending neatly at his nape. More potent when his gaze speared yours, his arms limp at his sides, elbows brushing the backs of your hands at his waist. 

Terribly heady.

Five seconds passed before you caught on to your ill deed, and his white tunic fluttered from the speed at which you pulled away from him. When his slender fingers twitched in tandem, you could only assume that, had you waited another second, he would have grasped your wrists so tightly the bones would have snapped. 

How could you? Oh God, this was it. It’s all over. 

You’re seized under his watchful eye, his face washed over with rage, or vexation, or downright disgust at your entirely-too-close, worthy-of-execution contact. 

Certainly, it could not be the wonder you had initially thought it was. 

That was just not possible. 

Impossible. 

Maybe. 

“YN!” 

You jump when the library’s twin doors slammed open, a crotchety, accented voice rattling against the shelves. The clomping of two clogs no different than yours—though, possibly better polished—thunder towards the pair of you, located by your and his candlesticks, stained brass and glossy gold sitting side by side on the oak center table. 

The head maid—Miss Miriam Swinebottom, which, in your humble opinion, was evidence that fate did in fact understand the concept of justice—was a woman of an angular, acidic countenance. Two beady eyes sunk deep into her skull like snakes nestled within a tumbleweed, and she had the capacity for two emotions: disappointment and fury. With a distaste for all things insouciant, the skeletal woman wielded the newly hired maids like an army of rats; she sent all of you scuttling over every inch of the castle and cleaning until your bodies were slow and stiff as though submerged in deep water. 

And you had no doubt that, the second that gaze fell upon you, she was out for blood. The terror that began pulsing in every nerve was no different than when you had first noticed the foreboding air around the blond man. You were not going to get out of this without a scratch. 

Miss Miriam took in you first, but not for long. Soon enough, both of you, as one incriminating sight, were being ascertained. 

You knew what she saw. 

One of her new maids, no better than the grime beneath her shoe, inches away from a royal. 

Unseasoned in the ways of the castle, naive to the new problem you’ve just sprouted, a true simpleton for what you’ve done. You. 

You, with unsteady eyes and flushed cheeks, his shirt unbuttoned, blond hair tousled. 

Fresh meat. 

Dead meat. 

And you hadn’t even done anything. 

You stumble back another step and hesitate to make an excuse. Words, you’d learned, were no better than handing Miss Miriam a switch. Best stay silent and pray for mercy.

Or, rather, for a quick recovery. 

Curiosity slips out of your hands, and you sneak a glance at the man. 

He’s wicked all over again. Somewhat unimpressed by the turn of events, he appears, but the emotion mingles with a strong sense of antagonism no nobility can seem to restrain. You’re only half-glad looks can’t kill. Miss Miriam would be worse off than six feet deep by now. 

To your surprise, she does not snatch you away with promises of a beating. She doesn’t get a step closer. 

Instead, the head maid folds into a low curtsy, then rises back up, bowing her head. “Your Highness.”

You tense at her actions, mind falling blank. 

No. He couldn’t be. 

Your Highness? Your Highness?

But as his gaze trails away from her and back to you, his face abruptly void, you can only stagger back another step, knees giving way into a curtsy as you copy Miss Miriam.

Waiting.

He is.

His Royal Highness, Crown Prince of the Creel Dynasty.

And here you had been, none the wiser, completely ignorant to the danger you’d just placed yourself in. 

For a long, excruciating moment, nothing happens. He does not touch you, nor does he move. The only sound filling the room is bated breath and whispering winds. 

Prince Henry. The prized catch of all the kingdoms. Aristocracy who’d never even scoff at a servant like you were here to court him. 

And you’d been so close—you could still feel the ghost of his warmth under your fingertips. 

A huff perks your ears, but you bite your tongue, waiting. He moves, one slow footstep at a time, nearing you with his polished, leather boots. You watch them as they grow closer. 

You watch them as they hesitate in front of you.

And then you watch them as they pass, each thump of leather against hardwood further and further away until there’s no doubt he has left the library. 

The older maid hitches a second longer before she rises, spitting your name like bile. “YN.” Her footsteps thunder toward you, and you barely have time to straighten before she has an iron grip on your upper arm, hauling you out of the room. 

“You had such a simple task. Clean the library and get out.” She grits her teeth, eyes flaring. “No one has used it in a decade, and yet what do I find but a dusty library and you. You, whoring yourself around the prince. And you said you weren’t a wench before I hired you.”

  She leads you down the castle’s marble hallways, dim from the setting sun yet well-lit by the sconces lining the walls. No matter how much you stumble and grunt, she drags you after her into the servants’ wing, swiftly finding the maids’ hall and barging you through the doorway. 

The room falls silent when the door slams shut, and while no crowd gathers, you are certainly the center of attention to the maids awaiting attending dinner. Stomachs are rumbling, but you have no doubt they would rather feast their eyes on this spectacle first. 

Tears pinch at the bridge of your nose. You can’t cry; you didn’t want to be one of the maids that cried. Those that did were in the latter half of the new hires who were younger than you. And you weren’t a little girl anymore. 

No crying. 

But, oh, you were scared when Miss Miriam paraded you in front of the others, hissing warnings and threats of punishment for girls who did what you had done. 

“-traipsing herself around in front of a most respected royal.” Black, burning eyes latch back onto you. “Tell me, YN, what did you think would happen?”

You flinch. 

There’s no point in looking to others for help. You don’t know them well enough to have friends. It’s been three days, and only one name has stuck. 

But you know it’s a sea of pity, disappointment, and nervous movement flowing back and forth. 

“It,” your voice cracks, and you pause, blinking rapidly. Another older maid, same regal accent, same strict demeanor, same gaze hissing you deserve this you deserve this you deserve this, approaches from behind. “It was an accident—”

You reel back into her waiting arms with a yelp. A stinging burn lances at your cheek, and if you hadn’t seen Miss Miriam’s bony hand fall back to her side, you would have thought she’d slashed open your cheek with an average kitchen knife. 

A seasoned backhand. Was there anything worse?

Miss Miriam stepped back, her appearance leaning more towards irate than strictly furious. She turned away from you, searching the walls of the dormitory. Though you had never seen it before, it hung on the wall with a single nail and a small, looped string on the handle.

A riding crop, yet you had the distinct feeling it had never been used on horses before. 

“No,” you plead when swift fingers begin untying your garment backing. “Please, it—it was an accident!” You try to yank away, but the crop swings at your head. When you lurch back, the fingers resume and Miss Miriam simply tilts her head. 

Dread claws up your throat. The edges of your vision begin contracting with your heart beat, while a shrill voice in your head begins screaming to run, to get out, to escape. Cold air assaults your bare back, and when you feel the tears begin to fall, the maid spins you around, presenting the stripped canvas of flesh to the others. 

“Let this be a lesson to you all, girls,” Miss Miriam announces. “This is not a whorehouse. You are not here to prostitute yourselves to royalty. You will not even look at them.” Her voice directs towards you, “They will certainly not look at you.”

You scream when the crop comes down, the white walls blurring, and the skin of your back wails at the betrayal. 

The tears don’t stop for hours.

Masterlist    Next

Can you please do a part 2 of Pumpkin Eater? With a fluffy ending please, this fic broke my heart 😅

Pumpkin Eater (Kuroo x Reader) ~Part 2~ Second Chance

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Last night, your friend sent you pictures of Kuroo with some girl at a random club. Not only was he a liar, but he was also a cheater, and you couldn’t stand to be with him after this.

Part 1

Part 2 (Never Again)

A/N: Hehe, people can’t handle the angst. I get it, I’m the same way. All righty, as per request, here’s part two of Pumpkin Eater! Enjoy!

Word count: 2478

        “We were on a break-”

        Click.

        “Identity theft is not a joke, J-”

        Click.

        “I broke it. It burnt my hand so I punched it. I predict in ten-”

        Click.

        The remote was taken from your loose grip and the television turned black. 

        “YN.”

        “Hmm?”

        “This needs to stop.”

        “What does?”

        Your friend sighed at the sight of you huddled deeply in a mountain of blankets. Dark circles hung like bags under your eyes, contrasting wildy with your ghostly pale face. Every muscle in your body ached with the slightest movement, too stiff from staying in one position for… three days? Four?

        “You’ve been sitting on my couch and moping for a week.”

        Oh, a week. 

        “You need to get up and move, or at least do something,” Christie groaned, throwing the blankets out of your reach and grabbing your hand. She gave it a gentle squeeze and softened her gaze. “I know it hurts, and it sucks.” Squeeze. “But maybe you should talk to him-”

        “I am not talking to him!” you cry out, ripping your hand away and standing on numb legs. “Christie, he cheated on me. There’s no excuse for that!” 

        Her eyes widened in surprise and she nodded solemnly. “Okay, but let me show you something first.” Before you could ask, she stood and left the living room, disappearing into the hallway leading to the bedrooms. 

        To a certain degree, she was right. You needed to get back to it. For the past week, it felt like your life had been set on pause. Every restless hour of sleep you got was filled with memories and nightmares mingling in the most stomach-churning way. Each dream was just about identical. It was always Kuroo and some faceless woman, laughing at you and leaving you behind in a mess of tears and shame as they walked away. 

        You always woke up with a whimper and forced yourself to stay awake after, too afraid to feel that pain again. 

        Some days… you wondered if he felt the same ache as you. If he felt just as empty and lost. Like a piece of his own body, his own heart was missing. Did he… did he feel the same way?

        Suddenly, Christie storms back into the room and drops an object on your lap. A phone. And with closer observation, you realize it’s your phone. 

        “Now, I am going out tonight and looking for a man at the club. If you want to join me, great. If you don’t…” she sighs and licks her red-shaded lips, “I guess that’s fine too.”

        It’s only then you notice she is completely decked out. In a signature little black dress and ruby pumps, she looks ready to knock men out dead. Bronzer sparkles in the brightness of her apartment’s light fixture and mascara makes her eyes bulge in the most baiting way. 

        You, on the other hand, are a complete mess. You’re wearing a week-old sweatshirt (Kuroo’s), and very loose, tightly cinched sweatpants (also Kuroo’s). Each piece of clothing has an emphasis on the sweat, and the only thing glittering on your face is the sugar from your cinnamon donut, aka yesterday’s breakfast. You felt like a trash can, and you certainly had the appearance to match. 

        Christie smooths the skin-tight skirt of her dress down as much as possible before taking a seat beside you on the sofa and grabbing your shoulder. After she turns you to face her, she gives you a tight smile and pulls a Cheeto out of your hair, tossing it to the floor with a heavily disguised sneer. “YN, all I ask is that you don’t let this hold you back forever. Just,” she grabs the phone in your lap and presses it into your hand, “read and listen to the messages. Please. For me.”

        She waits for your nod before standing up and grabbing her purse. With a flip of her straightened hair, she throws it over her shoulder and gives you a small smirk. “Now I might be coming back home later tonight, or I might not, we’ll see,” she winks. “But if I do, don’t expect us to be silent.” With one last giggle at your disgusted face, she disappears into the hall of her apartment building, slamming and locking the door behind her.

        You watch the exit for a couple more seconds before glancing down at your phone. While heaving a sigh, you press the power button and clench your jaw in anticipation. 

        Shit.

                                ~~~

        99+ texts was the symbol on your message app, along with 65 missed calls. 58 of those were from Kuroo, and almost every single one held a voicemail. It was like he was trying to crank up your phone bill just to spite you. 

        After a much-needed shower, you were working your way through every one of them, listening and deleting in an incessant pattern. You rubbed the towel through your damp locks, drying them before trying to run a brush through it in a failed attempt at looking tamed. In the meantime, a message played in the background. Kuroo’s voice crackled through the speakers in a broken tone. 

        “YN… Kitten… I need you back-”

        “Voicemail deleted.” 

        “Hey, it’s me again. Look, please call me back-”

        “Voicemail deleted.” 

        “YN, I don’t care if I have to call you a million times, I’m going to win you back. I love you so much more than you realize. And I’m not gonna stop until you’re in my arms again Kitten. We’re meant to be-”

        “Voicemail deleted.” You pulled your trembling finger away from the screen and choked back a sob. The brush clattered to the floor as you snapped up the phone and hugged it to your chest. 

        You shouldn’t have- Goddamnit!- you should not have let the message run on for that long. But it was just so nice to hear his voice claim that he loved you again. Loved you still.

        But that’s all it was. A claim. 

        “Goddamnit,” you hiss under your breath, clenching your eyes closed as tears trickled down your cheeks. At a slow pace, you mosey your way out of the bathroom, dropping back onto the sofa and crying out the pain. 

        You wish it was as easy to get over some as they say, but the fact is that it’s not. You loved him, and-

        Knock knock.

        Shit, she’s back already?! You scrambled to your feet and tightened your robe around your bare form, approaching the door swiftly. You definitely did not want to stick around if Christie had brought home a male companion. That would just be… ick. 

        Knock knock. The person slammed their fist against the door harder this round, and you yelled back, “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

        Whipping it open, you instantly slammed it shut once more at the sight. 

        Kuroo.

        “YN!”

        “Nope,” you shook your head, “fuck that.” 

        His fist bangs against the door once again, almost knocking it off its hinges. 

        “YN! Please let me see you!” 

        His voice sounded raw, like it was scraping past his throat with every syllable. You assumed yours sounded the same. 

        “Just open the door!” 

        “No!” you screamed back, evidently shocking Kuroo into silence. You stood in anticipation, waiting with your arms crossed for another retort, another plea. But nothing came. 

        Noises shifted outside in the hall, and you saw shadows moving under the door before the light was snuffed out completely. Kuroo’s back and skull made contact with the wood, echoing a dull thud as he settled into a seat on the floor directly outside the apartment. 

        “YN, please,” he muttered, quieter this time. As much as you hated him, you hated the sound of him sad even more. Seeing his presence today just reminded you that love doesn’t fade away after a relationship ends. At least not instantly. 

        You slumped to the carpeted floor too, sniffling and hugging your knees to your chest as you watched the entrance. Distractedly, you petted the fluffy fabric of your pure white robe as you waited. For what, you weren’t exactly sure. 

        Minutes passed, and all you could hear was the occasional snivel out in the hall. Your heart panged at how close he was. All your pain, all your suffering could be cured by a simple embrace of Kuroo’s. Your body and mind knew this, but your emotions refused to falter. 

        “Kuroo-”

        “Tetsurou,” he corrected tightly. 

        You sighed deeply and continued, ignoring the swift beating of your heart. “Why did you do it?” 

        A long pause left you dropping your chin down to your knees, and Kuroo cleared his throat before responding in a croaky voice. “I… I don’t really know. I was wasted, and I should’ve never drank that much. And she looked like you. And I- God, I was an idiot. But she was nothing to me, meant nothing to me.” His head banged against the barrier before he kept going. 

        “YN, you need to know you’re the love of my life. You’re,” he huffed out a breath, and you could hear him adjust his position on the floor. “You’re it for me. I can’t function without you. For the last week, I haven’t slept more than an hour, or eaten or anything. I just… please, I need you by my side.” 

        Not in a million years would you ever admit it, but you felt the same. Like you needed him to think straight, to help you focus, to keep you grounded. He was the one for you too. You just didn’t understand why he did what he did. 

        “I don’t know if I can trust you again.” You struggled to keep your words steady, and dug your fingernails into your knees when they cracked up at the end. 

        “I’ll work to gain back your trust, YN, God I swear I will. I just need you to give me another chance. I’ll never hurt you again, ever.”

        Tears streamed down your cheeks, but you pushed yourself up to your feet and approached the door anyway. It was the only wall you had left between you and him. He had broken down every other, and this was your last layer of protection. 

        With your hand on the doorknob, you hesitated to open it. You didn’t want to be hurt again. Never. You never thought he would betray you like that. You thought he loved you just as much as you loved him. You couldn’t even think about being with another man.

        So that’s why you pulled your hand away. 

                                ~~~

        Four hours had gone by. You figured Kuroo had gone home a while ago, and you had settled onto the couch, forcing yourself to laugh at a comedian’s stand up just to feel better. A hot chocolate steamed in your hand as you curled up in a blanket, trying to erase the pain in your heart.

        Footsteps clicked outside. Stilettos. Then whispers occurred. You sighed at the inevitability of getting kicked out so Christie could get it on with her new friend, but then she knocked.

        “Hey YN, you mind getting the door for me?” Her voice didn’t slur in the slightest. In fact, she didn’t even sound buzzed. Shaking away your suspicion, you rose and opened it for her, keeping your gaze locked on the television to wait for the comedian’s punchline. 

        “Christie, did you even drink while-” You were cut off by the feeling of someone’s long, strong arms embracing you. 

        The sensation was too familiar to be her. It was tight and warm and loving and comforting. It sprung tears in your eyes and washed a wave of uncontrolled contentment over you. 

        “Kuroo,” you choked out. Said man’s arms tightened around you. 

        “Don’t,” he whispered, his low volume muffled against your neck. “Please don’t call me that.”

        “Tetsurou,” you breathe out, “you were out there that whole time?”

        He chuckled bitterly and brushed his lips over your bare shoulder. “I love you. Fuck, I love you so much. I would do anything for you.”

        You snorted lightly into his own shoulder, running your hands up and down his back comfortingly. You enjoyed the feeling of him. You missed it. “I love you too.” Lips curling into a grin, Kuroo leaned back and began to pepper your face in kisses at the words. Then his hands crept up to the back of your head and tugged you closer, slamming you against him in a passionate kiss. 

        You both moaned at the feeling. It had been too long, way too long since you had been with each other. 

        When a loud clearing of a throat sounded, you pulled away, giggling when Kuroo tried to follow you. Your forehead pressed against his and you both stared deeply into each other’s eyes, watching with adoring gazes. 

        “I missed you.”

        “I missed you too.”

        “Yeah, that’s great and all,” Christie chimed in, “but can y’all move in together again? YN, I don’t know if you noticed, but you made my place look like a rat’s nest.” You snapped away from Kuroo in a split second and glanced around the room. You finally had enough clarity to take in your surroundings and- shit- she was right. 

        Blankets and wrappers and clothing were thrown haphazardly around the room. With a nervous giggle, you shrugged and gestured to the sight. “Umm, sorry?”

        “Yeah, yeah,” Christie scoffs with a smile before tossing you your backpack. “Just get outta my sight, lovebirds.” 

        Kuroo unraveled himself from you and intertwined his hand with yours. “She’s right,” he mutters, nuzzling his nose against your ear. “Let’s go home.”

        You nodded and gave Christie a grateful nod before waving goodbye. 

        In minutes, you were downstairs and outside, walking home in the chilly, midnight air.

        “Shit, it’s cold out,” you whined, huddling closer to Kuroo’s side.

        “Maybe it’s cause you’re only in a robe,” he snickers. Your eyes widen in realization before you glance down and shriek. 

        “Shit,” you swivel around and lock your eyes on the apartment building, “we gotta go back to Christie’s!”

       An arm winds around your waist and halts you mid-journey, tugging you closer to a nice source of heat. “Oh hell no,” Kuroo shakes his head before throwing a hand under your knees. In one swift movement, you’re up off the ground, being carried bridal style in the opposite direction. “We’re going home. I finally have you back, and I’m not gonna spend another second without you in my arms.”