He Accidentally Confesses (Haikyuu!! Fake Texts)

It would be interesting to see Osamu try to turn his life back around, come to terms with Atsumu's death and be his own person again. BUT!!! Please don't feel pressured to write a part 2 if you don't feel like it/don't want too 🥺 I was just genuinely curious if a part 2 was possible so I sent an ask. You're already giving us so much amazing content and I don't want you to burn yourself out and do any request that you don't like 🥺❣

Thank you, your words mean a lot more than you know🙏 And I’m thankful I’m surrounded by such kind people like you on here💜💜

I’ll definitely consider making a part 2 for Lapse in Judgement, as I’m also kind of interested in where I could take Osamu’s character without Atsumu by his side. The idea has definitely been noted :)

Across the Hall (Oikawa x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Across the hall lived Oikawa, a smug womanizer who never knew how to confront his one-night stands after their five minutes of fame. To avoid confrontation, he repeatedly seeks refuge in your apartment, or in his case, in your bed. But what happens when you start to grow feelings for this amorous neighbor of yours?

A/N: (It’s not five am! Yay me!) This is an au prompt called “You live across the hall and you hide in my apartment when you want to avoid your one-night stands” I got from this list. My god, I wanted this to be so much better than it actually was. If even a single person likes this, I will be eternally grateful. I sincerely hope you guys like this one! 

Word count: 5678

        Your apartment complex was filled with… a different kind of people. The tenants below you, one ginger and one blunet, bickered like no other. Meanwhile, the renters above you, one with a buzzcut and one with black hair and a bleached tuft, constantly watched and fawned over Next Top Model. It was all weird, but the most curious one of all was the man who lived across from you. 

        He was a womanizer with no sense of personal space, and constantly holed up in your apartment to wait out his one-night stands. Over the months, you two became friends, and while you repeatedly offered to let him hide and rest in your spare bedroom, he never seemed to appreciate the offer. Instead, he had a tenacious habit of crawling into your bed space and wrapping his arms around you with the claim that he couldn’t sleep without cuddling something. No matter how many pillows you chucked at him, you seemed to be his most favorite teddy bear.

        Tonight was no different, and your heart fluttered when he pulled you tighter into his chest. He had woken you up instantly, and he was lucky that you were too tired to be pissed off by the act. 

        “Oikawa,” you mumble lazily, rubbing the tiredness away from your eyes, “you know I only gave you that key for emergencies, right?”

        “But this is an emergency, YN. The girls never leave unless I’m not there when they wake up.”

        “Then maybe you should stop hooking up with random women.”

        “I don’t see the issue.”

        “Mhm,” you hum, rolling over in his embrace and yawning in his face. He gags at the smell and you smirk. “You know there’s a perfectly good couch for you to sleep on, right?”

        “It’s extremely uncomfortable, I can’t stand that thing. I don’t know why you bought it.”

        “Okay, then what about my spare room?” 

        “I’ve slept in there too! And trust me, nothing is more comfortable than this bed right-” Oikawa’s ranting is cut off by a frantic knock on your door. With a sigh, you nod your head towards the hall of your apartment and raise a brow. 

        “Is that tonight’s expedition?” He gives you a bashful smile.

        “Possibly.” Rolling your eyes, you scramble out of your bed and trudge out of your room. The banging is about to rip your door right off its hinges. As it shivers from the force, Oikawa trails timidly behind you and peeks over your shoulder at the sight. 

        “What, did you bang a pro-wrestler or something?” You’re judging him so hard right now. 

        “Ugh, YN. So unfeminine. I don’t ‘bang,’ I make love.” 

        “To a rhino?” You watch with wide eyes as your front door trembles before approaching it slowly. 

        “Maybe.” Oikawa opts to cower behind the island in your kitchen, which is adjacent to the entrance of your apartment and in a perfect position for him to not be spotted. 

        “Wonderful,” you mutter, hesitantly placing a hand on the knob and opening the barricade to the beast. “Can I help you?” you ask, plastering on a fake smile.

        Your neighbor’s one-night stand looks like she just stepped out of a magazine. With wavy blonde hair and long, tan legs, she seemed like the type to squash men under her designer stilettos and not bat an eye. Exactly his type.

        “Yes, I’m looking for my… boyfriend Tooru,” she glances inside your apartment suspiciously, getting a little too close for comfort. “Have you seen him?”

        “Umm, nope. Haven’t seen him.” You boredly blink at her and keep a hand on the door just in case she tries to barge inside. 

        “Well, if you do, could you tell him Sakura is looking for him?” She flashes you a dazzling smile that almost burns your irises.

        “Sure.”

        “Thanks! I’ll see you around!” Waving goodbye, she disappears inside the apartment across from yours, presumably to relocate her clothes from the night before. 

        “Not likely,” you mumble gruffly, slamming the door. You step into your kitchen only to find Oikawa casually eating a bowl of cereal on a stool at your counter. He shoots you an incredulous look.

        “She didn’t see me, right?!”

        “Oh no, of course not.” You snatch the breakfast away and munch on a bite of Cheerios. “Your girlfriend didn’t notice you stealing my food out in the open like a buttnugget.”

        “I am not a ‘buttnugget’! And I’d prefer you not speak with your mouth full.” You stick your tongue out at him and he grimaces at the bits of chewed food still visible. “Nasty. Anyways, she’s not my girlfriend.” 

        “I guess you’re right,” you shrug, plopping onto a stool next to his, “she’s more like the love of your life.” You waggle your eyebrows at him and he scoffs while pushing your shoulder playfully. 

        “Not in a million years.” He rises from his seat and smoothly presses his ear to the door before checking the peephole. “Coast is clear. You should probably go back to bed, YN. Get some more of that beauty rest you so desperately need.”

        “Bite me,” you grumble around a mouthful of cereal. 

        “I just might.” With a wink, he disappears out into the hall and back into his own home. The feeling of disappointment when he left wasn’t unknown to you, but you didn’t want to mull over it right now. Instead, you purse your lips and stand to wash the now-empty bowl, catching a glimpse of your clock on the way. 

        “Three a.m! What the fuck?!” Now that you know, the darkness outside your windows makes a lot more sense. Fortunately, it’s a Saturday, and it’s also not the first time Oikawa has required your help in fending off his nighttime companions. You’re used to it, but that doesn’t mean you don’t ream his ass about it every time you’re a little more conscious and awake. 

        “Goddamnit Oikawa.”

                                ***

It happens again, and again, and again. And every time it does, your feelings for him grow just a bit more, weirdly enough. On those early mornings that you wake up to him sliding into your bed and winding himself around you, you can’t help but wish it was for an entirely different reason. Sadly, reality was that he was just trying to escape his nightly mistakes. 

        Some days, you rouse to the smell of bacon wafting into the room. Others, he slips in and out before you even stir, leaving only a couple pancakes and a thank you note in his wake. 

        It’s been more than a year of this. A year of your apartment being used as a hideout, and of you being used as snuggly aftercare. Finally, you’ve decided you’ve had enough. You made a plan to confess at Christmas while you exchange gifts. 

        “Oh wow!” You hold up the hand-written slip of paper with an amused smile. It had been packaged in several wrapped cardboard boxes, and you had spent twenty minutes removing and ripping open one after the other while Oikawa busted a gut. “A limited time coupon for one free booty call!” You shake your head with a small chortle while he snickers at the gift. 

        “I even laminated it.”

        “Yes, yes you did,” you snort, flapping the “coupon” in the air. Holiday music plays softly in the background and you're both wrapped in blankets. A televised campfire crackles on the screen behind Oikawa, and the only thing brightening up your living room is the medium-sized, ornamented tree near the two of you, tinging the air with the scent of spruce and cinnamon. 

        “All right, I suppose I’ll save this for later.” You slip his gift under your thigh and hand him your own, in a red and green bag with tissue paper sticking out the top. “Now open mine!” 

        He smiles and digs his hand inside, crinkling around while he guesses, “Is it… a blanket?”

        “Nope.”

        “Is it… a t-shirt that says ‘I’m with stupid’?”

        “No, you jerk!” You laugh and smack his knee. “Just open it!”

        “If it’s worse than my gift, you totally owe me.” 

        “That’s literally not possible.” He gasps dramatically at you and finally pulls out the clothing. It’s a sweatshirt you had made especially for him. On the front was the logo for Boys’ Volleyball Nationals, and his eyes gleam in delight. Then he flips it around and reads the back. 

        “‘Number One Spectator’?!” He gawks at you in offense and you can’t hold back your giggles. While you crack up, he repeatedly glances between you and the sweatshirt with a pout. 

        “You totally owe me for this, YN!” 

        “I can’t! Oh, this is too good!” you guffaw, wiping tears away from your eyes. Suddenly, Oikawa tackles you to the floor, both hands beginning to attack your sides in a flurry of tickles. 

        “Oh shit!” you screech, twisting back and forth to try and escape. Your attempts are futile. 

        “Say you’re sorry!” One of his hands capture both of your wrists and hold them above your head so you couldn’t fight him. 

        “Never!” Your flabs ache while you wheeze out the occasional laugh. 

        “You’re so mean, YN!” He scolds with a wagging finger before instantly assaulting your exposed sides once more. “Just say your sorry!”

        “Okay, okay! I’m sorry!” you cry out with a giggle, gulping in large amounts of air when he finally stops. 

        “You’re forgiven,” he nods with a lopsided grin, still holding your hands hostage. A long moment passes as you relax and catch your breath, his gaze never leaving your flushed face, but when you can finally think properly again, you realize the compromising position you both are in. 

        He’s straddling your hips, one pressed against each side while his face leers over your own. Never before have you noticed just how dark his brown eyes are, and you can’t help but spot the occasional gold fleck while you lose yourself in them. With a gulp, you rub your thighs together and lick your lips. The action instantly grabs his attention, and Oikawa tightens his grip on your wrists before slowly lowering himself closer to you. A small part of you wants to wait, wants to let your relationship grow stronger, but the rest of you yearns to live in the moment and enjoy it while you have the chance. You pick your side, and clasp your eyes shut to brace yourself. Then it happens.

        There’s no explosions or fireworks like the books, but every single one of your nerves twinge with sparks. His lips are soft as they gently caress your own, taking their time to memorize the feeling. His brunet locks brush against your forehead and he carefully releases his hold on you, trailing his hands down to cup your cheeks while his tongue begs for entrance. Losing yourself in the moment, you allow it access, teasing and battling him for dominance with your own while you tenderly dig your fingers into his hair, combing and tugging on the strands as the kiss grows more heated. You separate for just a split second and Oikawa doesn’t stray far. In an instant, he’s biting and sucking on the smooth skin along your chin, using one arm to support himself over you while the other angles your head perfectly for his lips. Pain mingles with pleasure as his teeth graze and nip your delicate flesh. 

        “Tooru,” you whimper, and he grunts deeply in response. You yank on his tangled tufts harder, mewling his name repeatedly while he moves lower to leave love bites up and down your neck. He pecks the bruises soothingly and groans at the feeling of your hands pulling harshly in reaction to the sting. 

        “What do you want, YN?” He coos, words whispered against your skin. The sensation leaves you writhing beneath him. 

        “You.” 

                                ***

        That night, the coupon was left forgotten on the floor, but its offer had been used.

        The next day, you picked it up with a sniffle and dumped it into the trash while you gathered your clothes from around the living room. Like every other girl he had been with, he left during the middle of the night. 

        Unlike the mornings where you were shaken awake by him holding you close, you were all alone while viewing the sunrise through your blinds this time. 

        With puffy cheeks, you made yourself some instant coffee and downed it, ignoring the burn and the fresh numbness of your tongue now. You breathe out shakily and set the empty mug in the sink before preparing to take a shower. Every one of your movements was passively lifeless. Each footstep dragged against the floor, and every heartbeat in your chest pained you. 

        Under the scalding water, you scrubbed away the memory as best as you could, leaving your skin raw and aching, but you could still feel a semblance of his touch.

        In the mirror, purple blemishes littered every inch of your body from your chin to your calves. The sight of them reminded you of what exactly had scared him off. 

        His head was buried in the back of your neck as he nibbled on the skin there. You sighed happily, reveling in the afterglow of your love-making while relaxing further into the bed. Ever so slowly, you trail a hand down to your hips and interlock your fingers with his own, leading him to peck your nape gently. 

        “I love you,” you confess quietly. It was the heat of the moment, and you couldn’t help yourself. His body tenses behind you and his hand squeezes yours tightly for just a second. 

        “Oh.” The word, if that’s what it was, doesn’t sink in, and you fall asleep with a small smile on your face, pressing your back against his chest comfortingly. 

        At the time, you didn’t know. You had finally been with the man you loved, and he didn’t return your feelings. You wanted to be angry, enraged, or vengeful, but you were just sad. Ashamed of yourself and what you had done the night before. 

        In the past, you thought you meant more to Oikawa than his one night stands. You had seen the fake smiles he put up around them, and they never compared to the authentic grins he gave you. He joked with you, opened up to you, spent time with you and always seemed to want you around. Oh, how wrong you were to believe he would feel the same. 

                                ***

        Your employers weren't exactly okay with the fact that you had skipped about a month of work to wallow in self-pity, so they fired you. This unfortunate fact led you to search for a roommate, someone who could help you pay the rent while you job-hunted. You got an offer, and today he was moving in. 

        “YN?!” A familiar voice echoed from your apartment’s hallway, followed by a knocking on wood. “YN?!”

        “Oikawa?” You hesitantly make eye contact with him while hauling your groceries up the stairs. He’s in front of your door surrounded by cardboard boxes, and his face looks flushed with distress. 

        “YN, are you moving out?!” It’s the first time he’s talked to you since he left, and you want to beat the crap out of him with the hope that it would quell the pain. It won’t work, you know that, but you figure it’d be worth a shot.

        “No,” you clench your jaw and avoid his panicked gaze, “I got a new roommate.” 

        “Oh.” The look on his face falls, but so does every other emotion he had been displaying. Crossing his arms, he nods in understanding while observing the boxes of personal belongings around him. “That makes sense.”

        “Yeah, so uh… I guess I don’t really have to tell you this, but you can’t really hide out in my spare room anymore,” you shift on your feet, “You know, if you wanted to.”

        “Oh,” he repeats, and a muscle twitches in his jaw. “Okay.” 

        Awkward silence falls in the hallway, and you gulp while shifting awkwardly on the final stair to your apartment level. 

        “S-so,” he stutters before clearing his throat, “who’s your roommate?” 

        “Oh, his name is-” With perfect timing, your new roomie whips open the door to your home and grabs another cardboard box, completely dismissing the existence of the brunet across from him. 

        “Ushiwaka?!”

                                ***

        Your new roommate wasn’t exactly a bundle of fun. And for some reason, whenever he was caught in the hall with Oikawa, the latter would verbally attack him like a rat on a Cheeto. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you had a distant memory of your neighbor complaining about a man like Ushijima. You had both been on your couch, drinking wine and just talking about life when he suddenly grew angry at the memory of a man who “pissed him off like no other.” 

        In a way, you understood why; they were complete opposites. One was smug and social, while the other was more laid-back and reserved. Fate must have been on your side. Of course your new roommate would be the mortal enemy of the man who had broken your heart. Things were looking up, and it felt good to see Oikawa jealous, no matter how petty it sounded. You were heart-broken. Screw playing nice.

        “Hey YN?” Ushijima’s deep voice boomed from within his bedroom. The sudden holler made you jump from where you had been reclining on your couch, binging a new Netflix series. 

        “Yeah?” 

        “Can you take out the trash today? I have to get to practice.”

        “Sure, I got it.” After hopping off your sofa with a deep sigh, you plugged your nose with one hand and grabbed the trash bag in the kitchen with the other, kicking your way outside and into the hall. 

        “I’ll see you later snookums!” A feminine tone chimed from behind you. 

        “Heh, wonderful.” Oikawa. He must have a new lady friend. “Can’t wait, okay byeee!” His words were desperate and rushed as you pivoted to see him ushering a girl with her heels in her hands down the stairs. Wasn’t that… oh what’s her name… Sakura! When she disappears from his sight, he face palms and groans loudly. 

        “Still having trouble kicking ‘em to the curb?” you snort, rolling your eyes. While you throw your trash down the chute in the hall, Oikawa sighs. 

        “Umm sort of, actually. I just… I don’t know.” He sounds confused and broken. For some odd reason, you almost want to comfort him. “YN.” A hand drops on your shoulder and urges you to turn around. You do, and regrettably so. 

        His body language doesn’t show it, but deep in his eyes, there’s an emotion you desired from him weeks ago. No. “Things aren’t the same anymore. And I think I’ve figured out why.”

        “No.”

        “YN, please just let me explain.”

        “No, Tooru!” His name slips from your lips before you can stop it. “You don’t get to do that!” Your heart is racing in an instant and his nostrils flare. 

        “YN, I love you!”

        “I don’t care!” 

        A painfully long silence follows after your shout. The three words you’ve always wanted to hear from him echo in your head. He loves me. He loves me. Yes, but it didn’t matter. What he’s done… it was unforgivable. Leaving you like every other woman he’s been with. You thought you two were friends, that he wouldn’t treat you like that. But he did, and no matter how he felt now, he had to feel your pain. 

        “You… don’t care?” His lower lip trembles and his voice cracks. You quirk your mouth nervously and shake your head. 

        “Oikawa,” you mutter, “if you really loved me, why did you treat me like the rest?” 

        He stares at you for a while, frozen in shock. The hall grows ten times colder and suddenly it’s hard for you to breathe. You had to get out of there. 

        Spinning on your heel, you hurry back into your apartment, closing and locking the door just as you felt his fingertips reach and brush your elbow. 

        “YN! Wait!” 

        “YN? Are you okay?” Ushijima towers over your form, which had slumped to the ground against the wall. Tears prick your eyes, and you couldn’t remember the last time someone had asked you that question. He meant it too, there was a concern in his gaze you yearned for. 

        “No,” you croak out, using the door to help you stand with wobbling knees. The wood shivers beneath your hand from the pressure of Oikawa’s knocks. “No, I’m not.”

        Desperately, your neighbor's voice still pleads outside, and Ushijima nods. “Okay, I’ll talk to him.” It’s the most words he’s said to you in a day, and they pang your heart. 

        “Thank you,” you mumble, trudging away from the door and collapsing back onto your couch. 

        “Of course.” 

        The door opens behind you, and the lock clicks after it whooshes shut. You hug your knees into your chest and let the tears fall. 

        He loves me.

        “YN please!”

        He loves me.

        “She doesn’t want to talk to you. Please respect her wishes.”

        He loves me.

        “Oh, shut up you big oaf. I’m not gonna let you keep her from me! I won’t let you stop me again!”

        He loves me. 

        You breathe out a shaky sigh as the voices finally quiet. Wrapping a blanket around yourself, you fall into a dreamless sleep on the couch, stained cheeks and all. 

                                ***

        Another week passes. Ushijima has been talking you through the pain, but he’s also made you see reason. 

        “YN, he can be a pain, but I don’t think you should give up like this.” Was that really what happened? Did you give up? 

        “Doesn’t he deserve it?” 

        “Maybe, but I think he might be a person like me. I need time to sort my feelings out about things. Maybe he did too.” 

        His words shock you to the core. In all the time you’ve been thinking about your own feelings over what happened, Oikawa might’ve only started to understand his own. Okay, you got that. But then why did he sleep with more women afterwards?

        “You might be right, but I still need time.”

        “Okay.”

        In a million years, you never thought a stoic man like Ushijima would become the one to help you understand other people’s minds. He himself seemed aloof, especially when you tried to thank him. “For what?” he would say, “I’m just proposing a theory.” The man didn’t have a single touchy-feely bone in his body, and you began to respect that. It didn’t mean you would confront Oikawa yet, but at least you were getting somewhere. 

        While you stew over what Ushijima had told you, you hear a racket from in the hall. Ushijima is at practice, so you have to leave the apartment for the first time since last Thursday. 

        “Hey Shittykawa! Open up!” 

        There’s a beefy man furiously smacking Oikawa’s door that intimidates the shit out of you. However, you’re obviously not his target, so you lightly set the baseball bat down that you had grabbed for self-defense. 

        “C’mon Loserkawa! Tell me what’s going on!”

        “Umm,” you hesitantly pipe up. “Is everything okay?” While even though it involved your neighbor… you think, you still wondered if something bad was going on. Did something happen to Oikawa? Guilt struck your heart at the thought. Oh God, what if you never got to see him again?

        “Yeah, I guess,” Beefcake replies gravely and gestures a thumb at your neighbor’s door. “My friend just hasn’t left his house in a while. Sorry if I disturbed you.” 

        “It’s okay.” You figure the muscle man has it handled and plan to return to your daily activities of job-searching and wallowing in misery, but he grabs your shoulder suddenly, causing you to flinch. 

        “Wait!” He looks over his shoulder at Oikawa’s door, then back to you and your apartment. A deduction has been formed. “Are you YN?” Uh oh.

        “Umm, yeah? Who’s asking?”

        “Well son of a bitch,” he grumbles with a snarl, brandishing a key from his pocket. After sticking it in the lock and shouldering open the door, the man drags you into Oikawa’s apartment, which looks like ground zero. Pillows and clothing are strewn everywhere. There’s a table flipped on its side and empty food containers are littered on the ground here and there. In the middle of it all, curled up in a ball and covered in a blanket is a tear-stained Oikawa. His eyes resemble that of a raccoon as he peels them away from the TV he had been watching from his perch on the couch. 

        It’s a soap opera… about two roommates falling in love. Holy shit, he’s broken.

        “Goddamn, Shittykawa, it smells like someone died in here!” The man who tugged you in here waves his hand to disperse the aromatic funk, only to waft it into your face. You hold back a gag.

        “Something did, Iwa.” He makes eye contact with you for a split second before glancing away. “My happiness.” 

        You can hear your heart break at the jab, but “Iwa” only scoffs. 

        “You big sissy,” he folds his arms and raises an unimpressed brow. “Just talk to her and fucking get over it. We’ve needed you at practice for a week now.” Iwa places a hand on your back and shoves you forward through the mess. It’s not a hard push, but it’s enough for you to get the idea. 

        “Call me when you’re done so I can let the team know you’re okay.” Beefcake begins to exit but halts himself with a hand on the door. “Don’t go dark like that ever again, okay Shittykawa? People worry about you, not just your love life. Let us know what’s going on,” he mumbles over his shoulder before disappearing into the hall. 

        When you turn back around, Oikawa is sniffling and wiping his nose while avoiding your gaze. 

        “So…” you trail off awkwardly, standing in the middle of his apartment like a clean lighthouse amongst a beach of crap. 

        “YN, I’m sorry.” Oikawa takes the initiative, but still refuses to look at you. “God, I’m so sorry for what I did. I knew it was a bad idea from the moment I left your bed.” His voice is absolutely ruined. It sounds like every word scrapes past his throat and rubs it raw. He sounds… broken.

        You can hear your heartbeat in your ears as you struggle to breathe at a normal volume. 

        “I just,” he pauses to hide his face in his hands. “I just didn’t know what else to do. With you, yeah it felt different. God, of course it did. It felt amazing. But leaving after was the only thing I knew how to do, no matter what I felt.” 

        His words raise the hair on your arms, and you slowly walk around the random objects, taking your sweet time before you slump down onto the couch beside him.

        “Okay,” you breathe out shakily, eyes also locking on the television. “I get that.” As you chew on the inside of your cheek, you can’t help your gaze straying to his hand. It’s twitching closer and closer to you and you grasp it slowly, interlocking your fingers like long before. His are cold, and in your peripheral vision you can see him smiling at you while you try to warm it up with both hands. 

        “But look,” you pull your legs up onto the couch and swivel to face him, grabbing his other hand and rubbing it in the process, “I’m gonna need a little time to trust you.”

        “That’s okay!” He nods his head frantically and turns to face you as well, copying your position. “I can give you time!” 

        Your lips twitch at his excitement and you shyly glance down at your hands, but your eyes catch on something. The sweatshirt you got him for Christmas. He’s wearing it. Your breath hitches at the sight and Oikawa grows confused, following your gaze down to his clothing choice as well. 

        “Oh. Right.” He forces on a smug smirk. “It’s not that bad now that I’ve tried it on- oof.” You don’t hesitate to yank him into a hug across the couch. To be honest, you were surprised he had kept it. You had expected him to toss it just like you had done to his coupon. Although, to be fair, your gift had already been utilized. 

        With a sigh, you tuck your face into the crook of his neck and drag a hand up into his hair, combing through the tangled strands. Hesitantly, he wraps his arms around your back, then seems to gain a little courage as he suddenly squeezes you ten times harder than your ribs can handle. You don’t mind though.

        “I’m sorry for what I said, too,” you whisper against his neck, pressing a kiss against his skin simply because of the convenience. “I love you.” 

        Oikawa freezes in your hold and digs his fingers into your back. “... I love you too.” You sigh happily into his collarbone, pecking his skin more and more as his breathing grows labored. 

        “YN.” He pulls away just enough that there is a minimal amount of space between your noses. His eyes bore into your own with utter seriousness as he rubs his hands up and down your back calmingly. “I need you to know that after that night, I haven’t been with anyone since.” 

        Abruptly, you pull away and snap your brows together. “Really?”

        “Yes.”

        “What about Sakura?” 

        “Who?” You roll your eyes. 

        “Sakura! The girl you pushed out of your apartment?” His eyes widen in realization and he leans back slightly. 

        “Oh crap, you’re right. She was a nutjob!” You scoff.

        “So you did have sex with her.” 

        “No,” he shakes his head and stares deeply into your eyes so you knew he meant it. “I didn’t. She got ahold of me weeks after I stupidly gave her my number in the first place and I had to kick her out of my house after she barged in.” 

        “Oh really, snookums?” You sneer at him and he only chuckles. 

        “Yeah, buttnugget,” he smirks and bounces his forehead against yours lightly. “I mean it. She was an absolute whacknut, and I blocked her right after she left.” 

        “She was carrying her shoes.”

        “You think I’m gonna let her track mud into my apartment?” You glance around with a disbelieving look and nod your head. 

        “Uh yeah.” Oikawa scoffs and gestures around the living room. 

        “Ok, this,” he points his fingers in emphasis, “was all your doing, sweetheart. Congratulations, you're the second person in the world to break me.” 

        “Second? Aw man, who beat me?” You snicker as he smacks your thigh, offended. Then his face darkens and your smirk falters at the sight. 

        “Is something going on between you and Ushiwaka?” The smirk regains its rightful place and you tug on Oikawa’s cheek teasingly. 

        “Aww, Tooru, are you jealous?” He bats your hand away and pouts at you. 

        “Of course! That emotionless bastard told me to stay away from you. Also, everybody knows roommates always fall for each other!” Your face scrunches up at the thought.

        “Okay, who told you that?” He huffs and points at the TV.

        “Sofia and George fell in love after like two weeks of knowing each other! I mean, yeah, he did put her mother in a coma, but that bitch deserved it!” Your eyes grow to the size of saucers at his theory and you don’t hesitate to click the television off before grabbing his hand and tugging him out of the apartment faster than he can say “telenovela.”

        “What are you doing?”

        “Bringing you back out into the real world, where stepmoms don’t poison their daughter-in-laws over a lost diamond.”  

        “They don’t?!”

                                ***

        The sun is shining, birds are chirping, and once again, thankfully, Oikawa is right by your- oh shit, he’s gone! 

        “Tooru?!” you call out in a panic, feeling around the empty mattress for any sign of where he may have gone. “Tooru?! You son of a bitch, I swear if you left again, I will kick your ass!”

        “YN?” Oikawa peeks his head inside your bedroom, throwing you a confused look. “What are you yelling about?” Oops.

        “I thought your bitch-ass left again.” Your husband rolls his eyes at you.

        “Seriously, YN? It’s been five years, give it a rest will you?” You only stick out your tongue and roll out of bed before waddling over to him. 

        “Never.” You smile sweetly and kiss his cheek while he rubs circles on your stomach. With a shake of his head, he lazily returns your grin and lands a large smooch on your forehead before directing you into the kitchen. 

        “I was making you breakfast by the way.” He sets the plate down in front of you, and it’s a pleasant surprise to notice he’s shirtless and only wearing a “kiss the chef” apron over his glorious six pack. “Pancakes and hot sauce, just like your nasty, pregnancy-craving ass requested.”

        “Mmm, delicious.” You rub your pregnant belly and lick your lips hungrily. “Just like baby Ushiwaka wanted.”

        “I told you that joke isn't funny, YN!”

Story Time (Ushijima x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

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

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

Word count: 3344

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                                ~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                                ~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                                ~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

        “Because.”

        “Because?”

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

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

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

        “I’d like that. A lot.”

                                ~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

        “Impossible… jokes do not fly.” 

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

Don't mind me, I'll just be reading everything your masterlist, thank you. Your writing is *chefs kiss" 🥰

Oop, thank youuu🥺💜💜 have fun my friend✨

I...I can't not express how good your yandere Michael Gray fic was OH MY GOD it was so well written. Usually I am not a huge fan of Michael but this was just chef's kiss

ahhhh goodness thank you so much I'm happy you like it!! bruh i mean michael gray is such a cutie i wanted to try my hand at making him a yandere since there's not many fics of that so i'm glad you enjoyed it as well!

Calling Him by His Name (Haikyuu!! Fake Texts)

(Third Gym Version) Part 1

Bokuto, Akaashi, Hinata

A/N: Yes yes I am the writer who diPPed for a solid week, and I apologize for that y’all😔 Here is a lil text post to say sorry for not existing and THANK YOU FOR 1.8k FOLLOWERS BC HOW TF DOES THAT EVEN HAPPEN WHILE I POST LITERALLY NOTHING— enjoy!

uhh hi again 😅 im sorry for requesting again hdhd but is it ok to request another akaash papercrane au? where him and the reader are friends and akaashi believed that if he folds a thousand paper cranes the reader who is sick would get better but in the end when his wish came true his life was taken in exchange for his wish.

Paper Cranes (Akaashi x Reader) 

*GIF not mine*

Summary: A thousand paper cranes led to one wish. Or at least that’s what the legend said. Akaashi never wanted or even minded if it was true. At least, not until you came along.

A/N: I’m just out here wondering why y’all wanna be hurt. Like wtf. Anyways, this bitch angsty. Like I seriously hope y’all cry at this, bc boy did I want to. So like, pls feel free to tell me if you did cry, bc then I would feel accomplished. Aight, hope y’all enjoy!

Word count: 3725

        There was a… legend, of sorts. 

        If any one person could fold one thousand paper cranes, he or she would be granted a wish. 

        Akaashi had heard this story from his grandmother at a young age, and since then scoffed at the idea. What’s a wish gonna do? And why would he need one?

        He never truly believed in fate, destiny, or any other mystical mumbo jumbos. At least not until he met you. 

                                ~~~

        The swings are the loneliest place on the playground. Only one person can enjoy the ride at the time. If you have someone to push you, you only have a split second every time you swing back toward them to talk or laugh or enjoy each other’s companies. 

        Akaashi found himself there often. He was the quietest kid in his kindergarten class, and though his appearance did make him popular in crowds, he preferred the solitude of the swings. 

        The swings didn’t expect him to be funny. They didn’t expect him to be smart. They didn’t expect him to be perfect. 

        “Hey, can I swing with you?” 

        The swings didn’t- wait, what?

        Akaashi slowed his back-and-forth swaying, lowering his dusty tennis shoes to the bark of the ground to observe who had spoken. 

        It was a girl. A girl he had seen in his class often. The rays of the sun glimmered in her eyes, making them seem magical and kind. Her hands were folded behind her back shyly, and she scuffed the toe of her plastic sandal against her other heel while awaiting his answer. 

        Being confronted by his classmates was nothing new. All the time they came up to him and chattered like mindless lemmings. But Akaashi couldn’t help but gape at this girl in shock. 

        She was the first person to ask. 

        “S-sure.” 

        The young girl gave him a wide smile and crashed down into the swing beside his, already propelling herself to and fro with a kick of her feet. 

        A feeling awoke inside Akaashi in that moment. Competition. 

        Quickly, he bent and locked out his knees, trying to catch up to your pace though you were quite a bit ahead. You giggled and squealed when he swung ahead of you, and cheered victoriously when you blew past him. 

        Breathless. That’s how he felt. There was a glow in his chest, and suddenly he understood why so many other kids enjoyed being around their fellow classmates. 

        Having a friend who enjoyed the same things as him was fun. 

                                ~~~

        “YN!” Akaashi groaned, grimacing at the sight of you dancing victoriously above him. 

        “Look at all this money, Keiji!” You threw the Monopoly dollars in the air, waggling your hips and whooping. “How does it feel to SUCK?” 

        The black haired boy only folded his arms and pushed himself deeper amongst the blankets of the pillow fort. A pout carved onto his face when you began rubbing the fake bills against your cheeks. “Ahh, to be a millionaire. By the way, how’s your bankruptcy?” 

        “Shush, you,” he sulked, grabbing a stray pillow and tossing it at your head. You only dodged and laughed, crashing onto the floor beside him with a large oof. 

        “Ahh c’mon, you know you love me twerp,” you poked the side of his cheek as you laid on your back with a grin. 

        Shaking his head, Akaashi turned his face the other way and hid a small smile. “I can’t believe you were my first friend.”

        “Only ‘cause you sucked at swinging too.”

        “How does one suck at swinging?”

        “I don’t know! How do-”

        “Kids!” Akaashi’s mother interrupted, peeking her head into the fort with a quirk of her lips. “You better get to sleep. It’s almost ten.” 

        “Okay, Mom,” the boy nodded, discreetly jabbing your stomach as soon as she disappeared outside once more. 

        “OW!” you squealed, ruffling his hair in return. 

        The living room grew silent as you both settled in to sleep five minutes later. The excitement had calmed down, and now Akaashi was huddled in a blanket just a few inches away from your own. 

        His heart raced at the idea, and many thoughts flitted through his head. One being… 

        “Hey YN?” 

        You fake snored loudly and Akaashi scoffed, pulling a lock of your hair. 

        “Geez dude, why you always gotta hurt me?” You rolled over, incidentally getting even closer to your friend, and opened your eyes to face him. Akaashi was almost choking at the proximity. 

        With a purse of his lips, he lifted himself on one elbow and scratched the back of his neck. He avidly avoided your gaze as his cheeks tinged pink. “Sorry, I just….”

        You raised a brow. “Yeah…?”

        “We’re gonna stay friends, right? Even when we go to middle school? And even high school?” 

        Akaashi held his breath while you tapped your cheek thoughtfully. “Well, I was actually kinda hoping I could replace you with Godzilla once we got there, but if that doesn’t work out, then I guess so,” you shrugged. 

        He rolled his eyes and licked his lips. “Come on, I’m being serious.” 

        “I am too.”

        “Come on.”

        “All right, all right!” You lifted your hand out from under your blanket and poked him in the cheek once again, a new, nervous habit of yours. “Of course, stupid. We’re gonna be best friends forever. I promise.” 

        You held out your pinkie with a grin, and Akaashi stared at it hesitantly. 

        “Forever?” 

        You nodded, and he gave in, interlocking his last finger with your smaller one. 

        “Yeah, Keiji. Forever.”

                                ~~~

        Volleyball became a huge part of Akaashi’s life in middle school, and even on into high school. 

        “Hey, hey, hey Akaashi! Pass it to me!” 

        But not once did your friendship stray. 

        “It’s yours, Bokuto!”

        Every few seconds, he caught a glimpse of you in the stands. A large grin adorned your face, and you held a personalized sign just for him that you waved frantically any time he scored a point. 

        “GO AKAASHI!!!” Your voice, almost impeded by the overall clamor and volume of the gymnasium, was still fine-tuned in his ears. They perked at the cheer like the first melody of a bird on a bright morning. 

        A quirk of his lips accompanied the call, and he had to shake his head to stay focused on the game. 

        Block this guy’s spike.

        Send the set directly above the net so Bokuto can get a cross-court shot. 

        Where’s Konoha?

        I better send this one to-

        His never ending train of thoughts faltered for a second at the sound of a collective gasp. Nothing amazing had happened on the court, at least not from his point of view. So something must’ve happened in the crowd. 

        Hollers and cheers shifted to low, concerned murmurs. 

        The team on the other side of the net watched the audience in complete shock. 

        What is…

        Akaashi turned around with a crease in his brow and instinctively searched for you.

        You were gone. 

        Nostrils flaring, he slipped under the net to the other side of the court for a better vantage point. The sight shot his heart to pieces. 

        There, on the second level of the gym, collapsed against the plastic bleachers, was your unconscious form. 

                                ~~~

        The fluorescent lights on the ceiling of the hospital buzzed almost silently. And yet, for as long as Akaashi had been there, it was the only sound he could hear. 

        He stood outside your room like a guard dog, keeping his gaze locked on you at all times. 

        Through the glass windows of your room, he watched as your parents hugged you with tear-stained cheeks. You, on the other hand, were emotionless. Your eyes were unfocused, and you didn’t seem to be tuned into reality at the moment. 

        A half an hour passed. Your parents finally let him into the room, and he stepped in almost unwillingly. 

        “Mom, Dad, can… umm… can we have a moment alone?” 

        Your mom almost screeched in denial, but your father swiftly nodded and grabbed her hand, tugging her out of the room. “Of course, sweetie.”

        As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, Akaashi gnawed on his bottom lip nervously. “So….”

         You seemed to snap out of it and turned to him with blank eyes. Your form was slumped back against the pillows of the hospital bed and you fiddled with the white cotton blanket. A thin, white nightgown covered your body, but it seemed to tremble every few seconds. Or maybe that was you. “Keiji.” 

        He took the cue and scurried to your bedside, grabbing your IV-plugged hand in his own. The pads of his fingers ran over your skin in a comforting manner, but he wasn’t exactly sure if it was helping any. “YN… what-”

        “The doctor said I have like a year.” You sounded so distant, locked away deep inside yourself. Almost confused at what was happening, but you also knew your fate. 

        Akaashi couldn’t breathe. His eyes watered and his brows furrowed and he almost grew angry at your dismissive state. But he couldn’t be mad at you. It wasn’t your fault. 

        “What,” he shakily whispered, whole body rigid, “YN, what happened?”

        “I don’t know,” your voice cracked, and suddenly the facade fell. Or maybe reality finally set in. “They said I’m sick or something and it’s incurable and I’m going to die! Oh God, I’m going to die, Keiji!” You wailed and bawled and cried as much as you could, and Akaashi let his tears flow too. 

        “I don’t wanna die!”

        Akaashi nodded, grimacing and clenching his eyes closed while he sat on your bed and hugged you. 

        “Please, I don’t wanna die!” 

        Your body convulsed in his grasp as you heaved out sobs, afraid of something you couldn’t fight. This was a battle no one could win. This was fate. 

        Akaashi cursed under his breath as he rocked you back and forth, running a hand through your tangled strands before whispering soft reassurances to your deaf ears. 

        You began to cough and hiccup, shoving your face deeper into his soaked shoulder. 

        Nothing could be said. Nothing could be done. 

        The room was tense, filled with utter, uncontrolled fear. 

        Nothing could stop this.

        “Please don’t let me die.” 

        Akaashi’s bloodshot eyes opened in the slightest as an idea hit him. He squeezed you tighter as your sobs slowed to whimpers, and shook his head. I won’t let that happen.

                                ~~~

        “Do you have an eight?”

        “Go fish.”

        “Fuck.”

        “Do you have a king?”

        “...No.”

        “YN.”

        “FINE!” You threw your cards down on the bed with a pout. Akaashi chuckled and gathered up the cards, giving you a smug glance. 

        “What is it you said to me when we were kids? ‘How does it feel to suck?’”

        You stuck out your tongue and batted his teasing hands away before folding your arms. “Shut up,” you muttered. 

        The hospital room was becoming more and more your own. Flowers decorated the windowsill, a couple books sat on the nightstand, and you even had a few folded cranes of Akaashi’s on your headboard. 

        Months had passed, nine to be specific, since you got the diagnosis. Time was running out. 

        “Well, YN, I brought your homework.” Akaashi dug around in his bag before pulling out a stack of assignments. A bright yellow sticky note sat on the top with your name scribbled haphazardly. 

        “You know, Keiji, it’s funny you think I’d actually spend my time doing that instead of, oh I don’t know,” you playfully shrugged, “having fun the rest of my life.” 

        Akaashi gulped but forced his smile to remain steady on his face. For you.

        “I think you should still do it, YN. It’ll keep you smart.” 

        “What smarts am I gonna need when I’m-” 

        “YN please.” Akaashi winced at your recent lax in self-respect. A muscle in his jaw irked at the thought, but his eyes stayed locked on the cranes just above your head. 

        You nodded and softened your gaze. “Sorry, Keiji.” You held out your hands and accepted the papers he handed you. “I’ll try my best on them.”

        “Thank you. And don’t forget to use my notes,” Akaashi added.

        “How could I,” you scoffed. “Half of ‘em are done in glitter pens.” The corner of Akaashi’s mouth quirked up at the thought. 

        “Only ‘cause I know you like them that way.” Akaashi leaned in to give you a hug, pressing a kiss to your hair that he knew you couldn’t feel. Your warmth, the warmth you filled his heart with, made him never want to leave. But he had to. 

        “All right, I have to go, but before I do,” Akaashi dug around in his bag for a second before locating his gift with a sparkle in his eyes. “Here.”

        A blue paper crane was set in your palm, and his fingers brushed yours before he pulled them away. Your body wiggled in happiness at the new addition. 

        “Yay! Another one! How about I call this one…” you trailed off, tapping your chin in thought. Then you pointed your finger in the air in glee. “Perry! What do you think, Keiji?” 

        You reached up and set the crane along with the others while Akaashi nodded in agreement. “It’s perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow, YN.” 

        Just as Akaashi stepped away, you grabbed his hand and tugged it to gain his attention once again. 

        “What’s wrong?” 

        You scrutinized his face with narrowed eyes, reaching your hand up and brushing your fingers just above his cheeks. “Keiji?”

        “Hmm?” His eyes were almost closed in bliss, enjoying every spark of exhilaration that came with your touch. He flinched when you patted his cheek roughly. 

        “Get some more sleep at night. You look like shit.” 

        Blue eyes flickering open, he covered your hand with his own and delivered a soft kiss to your palm. “Not in a million years.”

                                ~~~

        Everything around him was fuzzy and blurred. The room was so dim and warm. A wave of exhaustion hit him every two seconds, leaving his head reeling and his ears thumping. 

        And yet, he wouldn’t move. 

        No, not if he couldn’t help it. 

        Papercuts littered his fingers. Scraps and scraps of paper, all shapes, colors and sizes, laid out in front of him, along with one lone whiteboard and marker. 

        The sun was just beginning to rise outside his window, and birds began to stir in their nests. 

        Fuck, he was so tired. His body pleaded with him to close his eyes just once. 

        No. 

        Shuffling of parchment became his new white noise. The pads of his fingers were on fire with every fold and every crease. 

        Then he set the new crane behind him, uncapped the marker and drew a single tick mark. 

        “Eight-hundred and seventy-four,” he muttered with a sigh. 

        Another.

        He grabbed a new page with sore, pained arms, resisting the urge to yawn and starting anew. 

        Fold. Crease. Fold. Crease. Fold. 

        “Eight-hundred and seventy-five.”

                                ~~~

        “Ughhh yesss,” you moaned, licking the sweet stickiness off your fingers. “It’s been too long since I’ve had ice cream.” 

        Akaashi smiled at the sight. Your face had glowed with pure joy when he showed up with your favorite flavor, and you had deadpanned “I love you.”

        It was enough for him. He chuckled into his own bowl before swallowing another spoonful. “What, is the Jello not any good here?”

        You flipped him off and continued downing your cold treat. “Next time they try to force that gelatinous shit down my throat, I’m just gonna hop out the window.” 

        “From the fourth floor?”

        You shrugged. “Why not? I could make it! I’ve seen it in the movies, all you have to do is roll.” 

        Your dark haired friend scoffed at the thought. “Yes, please ‘roll.’ It will be much quicker travel than limping on two broken legs.” 

        You busted out laughing. “See? Now you get it!” Your face was frozen in pure joy as you held your ice cream. 

        This moment made it all worth it. You were beautiful. Completely happy and carefree for the first time in a year. Akaashi didn’t want you to worry anymore. 

        He would only hope that you could find someone to make you laugh like this again once he was gone. He didn’t want you to be alone like he had been before you. You were the light of his life. You made him discover a purpose for living, and you lead him through it. He would follow you to the ends of the Earth if need be. And now was the time to repay you.

        His bag was empty this visit aside from a single slip of paper. It was blue, your favorite color. “It reminds me of your eyes, which are really hot, by the way,” you had said.

        “I did my homework like you asked.” You nodded with complete self-assurance and even held up the assignment. “I might’ve gotten number three wrong though….”

        “That’s okay.” Akaashi set down his bowl and stood up, approaching your bedside with slow, purposeful steps. 

        You were breathtaking at this angle. The sun shined just barely through your room’s window, and lit up your entire face with a single ray. It emphasized the natural glow of life you already had. 

        Yeah, he could do this. For you, he would do anything. 

        When he stopped at your bedside, you shifted under your blankets until your legs hung off the side of the mattress. Completely facing him, you threw him a questioning glance. “What’s up?”

        “Can I kiss you?” 

        He had to at least try. If only once. 

        You stopped breathing and your heart stuttered in your chest. Akaashi could read it all over your flushed face that-- Thank God-- you felt the same way he did. 

        It was a mixture of euphoria and anxiousness that flooded his stomach when you nodded. A shy smile covered your face, and it grew larger the closer he leaned towards you. Then finally, your lips touched. 

        The kiss was soft and slow, with Akaashi’s hands landing on the bed around you to support himself. Your lips were plush and tasted like sugary sweetness, and he snatched up your chin the second you tried to pull away too soon. 

        This second kiss was more passionate, rushed and intoxicating. The fervor of it left you feeling light-headed and breathless. And loved. His lips smashed against your own in a desperation of showing how he felt. It was as if he was making up for lost time, or something opposite of that. 

        And then he pulled away, gasping for air and not regretting a thing. His hand slowly dropped from your chin and fell to your thigh, barely covered by the thin hospital gown. His fingertips, rougher than you remembered, gently massaged your skin, leaving you to sigh happily. 

        His forehead pressed against your own, and smiles were permanently etched on both your faces. 

        “I love you,” Akaashi finally whispered, eyes staring honestly into your own.

        “I love you too,” you pecked his lips once more and he returned it with ease. 

        You stayed like that for so long, just enjoying the feeling and proximity of one another. The air was clear. You loved each other. 

        But now, one of you had to let go.

        Akaashi pulled away slowly with one last peck. While you sat with affectionate eyes watching his every move, he dug in his bag and pulled out a slip of paper. 

        “You write me a letter or something?” you teased. 

        “This is better than any letter I could write you, love, trust me.” Akaashi threw you a soft smile before settling onto the bed beside you. 

        You watched in utter fascination as folded and pressed the paper with skilled fingers. 

        “Wow, Keiji, you’re so good at that!” You let a hand hover over his own and stop the process for a second. “How long have you been practicing?” 

        Akaashi froze in an instant, but quickly rolled his shoulders and relaxed his form, leaning himself closer to your presence. “Quite a while now, but I did it for you.” 

        You beamed at him, tears pricking your eyes. “Keiji….” With a small, disbelieving shake of your head, you pressed your lips to his own just one more time. This time as a thank you. 

        Then you urged him to continue with a slight wave of your hand. 

        And he did so. 

        Fold. Crease. Fold. Crease. Fold. 

        And at last, the final product. A single paper crane of gorgeous blue, just like his eyes. 

        “YN.”

        “Hmm?”

        Akaashi hands you the crane and stares deeply into your eyes. “I love you.” 

        “I love you too.” 

        “And I wish for your life to be spared. At the expense of my own.” 

        “What?” You giggle in confusion, growing more and more concerned as Akaashi’s eyes seem to flutter. 

        Then they close for one last time. 

        “Keiji?” 

        His body slumps back, falling like dead weight to the mattress of your hospital bed. 

        “Keiji?!”

        You were afraid. So afraid. 

        “Keiji, what did you do?” you mumble breathlessly, wide eyes locked on him. On his body. 

        “WHAT DID YOU DO?!” 

        Gut-wrenching sobs tore through your chest, leaving your whole form trembling. 

        “KEIJI!” Your blood-curdling screams led crowds of nurses to your room, but they could never pull you away. You, keeled over Akaashi’s lifeless form, refused to move even an inch. You hugged him close, wailing and wailing against his unmoving chest. Incoherent moans scratch your throat as you rock him back and forth, whispering I love yous one last time.

        The legend was uncomplicated, but so painfully real.

        A thousand paper cranes. One wish. 

        And Akaashi’s wish was simple. A life for a life. 

        Him. For you.

Can we maybe get a part 2 of the yandere Garou 'the gift-giver' fic?? I love how you write him!

This is so sweet! I'm glad you liked the fic!

Sadly ma brain's got zero ideas for any further scenes for that fic :( feel free to send me ideas if you got any tho!

Language of Love (Akaashi x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Speaking French in front of your crush was not as discreet as you originally thought. Maybe you should just start texting from now on… 

A/N: I’m so thankful for the growth that has happened to my account in the small span of 48 hours! Here’s a short imagine that I got an idea for from this prompt by @writ-ing-promp-ts​. Akaashi is really OOC, so I’m sorry. And I also kinda rambled on too long in the first part, but oh well, I’m a lil tired. Enjoy! :) 

Word count: 1240

        The courtyard of Fukurodani was beautiful, to say the least. It was springtime, and you sat just below a freshly-bloomed cherry blossom tree. The pastel pink petals surrounded you either on the grass or floating with the wind. The flowery scent you inhaled was barely noticeable over the cold breeze it accompanied. The sun shined, birds chirped, bees buzzed, and you… well, you were jabbering in French to your sick best friend over the phone. You were sweating like a pig thanks to the topic of conversation, and occasionally flapped your arms up and down like the chicken dance just to dry off. Gross, right? Yeah, you thought so too. But the anxiety of talking about a crush in any language was enough to provoke undesirable side effects. 

        Setting down your phone to take off the hot blazer that was just making everything worse, you whined into the microphone, “Il est tellement attirant que je pourrais mourir. (He is so attractive that I could die.)” Your hand caught in a sleeve, so you began screeching at the jacket you were currently wedged in and attracted some unwanted attention. You nervously smiled at your fellow classmates before laughing and shrugging at your own predicament. Giving you sneers, they exaggeratedly stepped away from your general area before  exiting through the school’s gates while whispering among themselves. The smile on your face dropped into a snarl as you pulled with all your might on the stupid mandatory blazer. 

        Not realizing you were currently busy, your ever-so-sympathetic friend replied, “Arrête d'être un bébé et avoue déjà. Tu es trop dramatique. Il ne te mangera pas. (Stop being a baby and confess already. You are too dramatic. He won't eat you.)” Letting out a loud “Guh” as you finally escaped the human trap, you threw the evil jacket away from you and pouted. 

        “Je ne suis pas trop dramatique. (I am not too dramatic.)” You slumped back onto the rough bark of the tree and exhaled heavily. 

        “Alors arrêtez d'être un tel wuss et dites-lui! (Then stop being such a wuss and tell him!)” your friend demanded, and your phone shook at her volume. You understood her impatience; after all, you had harbored a crush on Akaashi for the past year now, and the only person who stood to take earfuls of your gushing was her. Overall, you were thankful, but that didn’t mean you weren’t shy. 

        “Mais que dois-je faire si Akaashi me rejette? (But what should I do if Akaashi rejects me?)” you mumbled softly, fiddling with the edges of your skirt. Your friend sighed heavily, but you were surprised at the gentle tone in her response. 

        “Tu fais ce que tout le monde dans le monde a fait. Tu t'en remets et trouvés quelqu'un de nouveau. C'est la seule solution. (You do what everyone else in the world has done. You get over it and find someone new. That's the only way.)” Her logic had always pissed you off anyway. Scoffing at the blatant statement, you began to pick at the dirt under your fingernails. Your eyes were saddened, and your shoulders slouched while you bounced your knees up and down in front of you. What ifs, all the what ifs ran through your head, and your heart pained in imaginary sadness at the scenarios. Your friend’s voice dragged you out of your thoughts once more.

        “YN, l'aimes-tu? (YN, do you like him?)”

        “As-tu vraiment besoin de demander? (Do you really need to ask?)” 

        “Alors c'est la seule raison pour laquelle tu devrais lui dire. Ne continuez pas à y penser pour toujours, faites-le. (Then that’s the only reason you should tell him. Don’t keep thinking about it forever, do it.)” Her words carried in the wind like an echo, and a breeze blew past your face, brushing away the stray hairs. Tapping your finger on your chin, you thought it over. It had been months, and you really did like him. He was always nice, and his bare-boned humor made you laugh. And no one could deny that he was truly attractive. 

        Hesitantly, you agreed, “D'accord. Je le ferai. Je vais lui demander de sortir. Souhaite moi bonne chance. (Okay. I will do it. I'm going to ask him to go out. Wish me good luck.)”

        “Bonne chance mon amie. (Good luck my friend.)” She sounded smugly victorious, but ended the call before you could berate her about it. Sighing exasperatingly, you dropped your head back harshly onto the base of the tree. Your hands dropped to your sides and nervously picked at grass while peering up at the pink branches above your form. 

        “Hey YN. You were speaking French just now, right?” Oh crap. Akaashi. A woozy feeling erupted right in the center of your head after you stood up too quickly to face him. Refraining from rubbing the pain away, you settled for a hasty nod at his question, not trusting your voice at the moment. 

        “That’s cool, you sounded pretty fluent too.” His voice was flat, but you had never heard it any other way, and that fact had never stopped the blush that rose on your face in his presence. It certainly didn’t stop the flush now. Suddenly, you remembered your friend’s words. Do it.

        “Well, you know, I-I could teach you some time,” you stuttered out. Hiding your shaking hands behind your back, you apprehensively smiled at him, but faltered when the corner of his mouth quirked up. His eyes glimmered at your suggestion while he suddenly grew smug. Your brows furrowed after he rolled his shoulders and placed his hands in his pants pockets, while his chest seemed to puff out. Was this really Akaashi?

        “That’s okay,” he retorts, “I already know French.” Excuse me, what?

        Your eye began to twitch and the smile on your face dropped. Blanching at his words, you hesitantly asked, “W-well, um, how much did you hear?” 

        “Enough.” He smiled softly at your amazed expression, chuckling behind his hand. Who the f**k is this guy?!

        “Oh. Ohhhh. Look, you might have misunderstood a couple of our words,” you sputtered. Akaashi was different today, it seemed. He was showing emotion, a lot of emotion. You choked on air when his own cheeks pinked as he stepped toward you. Staring at the petals he had crunched under his shoes, you mumbled, “We don’t really know the language that well, so you might have misheard a sentence or two. We definitely weren’t talking about you, that’s for sure-”

        The rest of your anxious rambling died on your tongue when he suddenly grinned at you. Ever so slowly, Akaashi caught a lock of your hair blowing in the wind and curled it around his finger gently. He was nervous too, you realized. But your breath caught in your throat when his gaze suddenly shifted and intercepted your own. Softly, he whispered, “Je t’aime bien aussi. (I like you too.)” 

hahahaha just watched top gun: maverick and have begun preparing for my rooster phase

welp guess I’m into mustaches now