Envy On Leave (Spencer Reid X Reader)

Henlo 🥺👉🏼👈🏼. I really love your writing, and I was hoping that I could request a hinata soulmate!au. I really loved the other ones. Thank you so much!

Tug of War (Hinata x Reader/Soulmate!au)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: You had a nervous habit, and to your soulmate, it was a bit cruel. From time to time, you would occasionally tug on your red string of fate. You never really saw the effects… at least, not until now. “Hinata, are you okay?!”

A/N: Haha, had this one planned out for months but never had the energy to do it. Thanks for giving me that extra push, anon! It’s a little short, but I hope you like it!

Word count: 1614

        The sound of balls whamming into the ground split through your eardrums. 

        Wham!

        “Nice kill!”

        Heavy breathing accompanied the noise, along with the heavy stench of sweat as you wormed your way to the front of the crowd. From the second-level balcony, you had a full view of the court, the benches, and most importantly, the greatest decoy. 

        Though his height was nothing to call home about, something had always drawn you to the little ginger bouncing on the tips of his toes right now. Maybe it was the way he faced every challenge head on, or maybe it was the way he would smile after bounding onto the volleyball court. You weren’t quite sure, and that’s exactly what had you fiddling with the ruby string around your dominant pinkie. 

        “It’s up!”

        It was Karasuno’s first home game. On the other half of the court was a teal and white team, Seijoh-- or… maybe it was Aoba Johsai. You never really knew. 

        All that was for sure was that the group of five or so girls beside you were all cheering for “Oikawa” with squeals like a local pig farm. When you followed their gazes, you weren’t really impressed. Sure, he was handsome, but you guessed redheads had always been more your type. 

        “Nice one, Hinata!” At the name, you leaned over the metal railing and peered down on the court, more attentive now than ever. He had just been switched out, replaced with an even shorter male, which… you weren’t really sure how that was possible. 

        While watching from the player’s box, Hinata drank from a water bottle with haste. You had never been more jealous of plastic in your life. 

        Soon, the whistles blew, and he was switched back into the game. Brown eyes glimmering, he shifted into the front row spot near a taller first year with dark hair. 

        “Watch out for that blocker, dumbass.” 

        “Why do you always call me that?!”

        Their yells didn’t exactly reach that far up into the stands, but thanks to the general air around the two, you figured your lip-reading had been more than accurate. 

        A small smile had settled onto your face as the game moved on, and not once had your fingers stopped twisting and twirling the string. Somehow, the energy of the game had seeped right into your own being, and soon you were biting your lip in anticipation. 

        “Bring it to me!”

        Hinata ran around the setter and jumped, and just when he reared back to spike--

        Tug.

         His body flailed and flew through the air like a fish out of water. The cringe from every person in the room was almost audible as soon as he crashed to the ground, the plastic numbers on the back of his jersey squealing in protest. 

        When he finally stopped sliding, he flinched right as the ball that had been set for him bonked his forehead before dribbling away. 

        For a moment, the entire gym was silent. Some’s mouths were gaped with awe, others had brows raised in concern. Luckily, not a single person saw you, watching your pinkie as though it had whispered the secrets of the universe. 

        “AGAIN?!” Hinata shouted to himself, breaking the silence and wriggling around on his back in frustration. “She’s gotta stop doing that!”

        Oops.

        “Hinata, are you okay?!” His teammates crowd around the fallen spiker in a huddle, concerned looks being served left and right. 

        In mere seconds, your face had shifted from ghostly white to rosy red, and it took you even less time to book it out of there. 

        Bad habit, bad habit!

                                ###

        All throughout your life, you had waited to meet your soulmate. Was he tall? Short? Kind? Mean? What if he didn’t even speak the same language?

        Each day, these questions plagued your mind, and somewhere along the way, your habit had grown. A little twist of the string, a small caress of the soft fabric wrapped around your pinkie, and the occasional tug when you got a little too anxious. Evidently, it was just waiting to come bite you in the ass. 

        Hinata was ruthless now. He’d been yanked out of his chair mid-class, toppled over in the middle of the street or hall, and even missed the bowl once or twice while just trying to relieve himself. All of that, he could handle. 

        Though, apparently last night had been the last straw. What felt like every minute, the string on your hand would jerk you around so forcefully you almost flew right out the classroom window you sat beside. 

        Only once in a while would you let it be obvious enough that the teacher had to ask if you were okay. Your notebook was now covered in hasty chicken scratch, eager to get in a line of notes before the next wrench of the string. Random lines of led littered the page from when he had caught you a moment too soon, but you were trying to adapt. There was a moment in between each jerk, and in those moments, you had true freedom. 

        “In nineteen-thirtysev-... ugh, nineteen-thirtysev- son of a bitch! In nineteen-thirty-- you know what, fuck it. I give up,” you grumbled under your breath, slamming your notebook closed amongst the now-constant tugs of your pinkie. There was really no point in trying now; Hinata had traded in his previous pattern of tug-wait-wait-tug for tug-tug-tug. 

        You didn’t even bother bringing your hand back up to your desk, instead deciding to let it flail around and dangle over the edge of the wooden surface. 

        Sighs of relief fill the classroom as soon as the bell rings, and you snag your backpack off the floor in the nick of time. One large rip of the string has you scrambling out into the hallway, crashing into a locker and trying to stabilize your footing. 

        “Woah, watch it!”

        “Yeah, yeah, sorry.” The student seems to either have a stick up his ass no different than a popsicle or maybe the wave of your nonchalant hand didn’t account for much of an apology. Either way, you didn’t get to stick around for long, because soon your soulmate’s pulling is practically dragging you down the hall, bouncing off the occasional student like bumper cars. 

        “I swear, Kageyama, she’ll be here. Just hold on for a second.” 

        Over the hoards of students stampeding in the opposite direction of you, you hear his voice. While you expected a vengeful snicker, you were pleasantly surprised with a giddy smile. 

        Through the bodies moving slower than midday traffic, you saw Hinata, orange hair bobbing up and down in a school window’s gleam. 

        Bob and weave. Bob and weave.

        When you surface is when you see it. Your soulmate’s not simply pulling you toward him in a conventional way. No, rather, he’s reeling the string around his other hand like he caught a fish.

        “YN?” His movements halt and in true ragdoll fashion, you do as well. 

        “Sup.”

        Hinata, the guy you had been crushing on for your entire first year of high school, was your soulmate. Last night, you could barely go to sleep with all your excitement bubbling through your veins. Your smile had been as large as the moon itself as you wiggled around on your bed, kicking your feet whenever the pent up energy came to be too much. 

        Now? That was a different story. 

        No less had it been a small wave of giddiness, but it was more a wave of pure elation. Endorphins swam around your bloodstream enough to make your head fuzzy, but making eye contact with him hadn’t been the only cause. 

        No, because in seconds, Hinata had covered the distance between you two and tackled you like an ecstatic puppy. You were high on the rush of first touch, high on the rush of finally having him hold you in his arms. 

        “I finally found you,” his voice is muffled by your shoulder and he’s got your school jacket bawled up in two fists. There’s a smile; you can almost feel him trembling against you in euphoria, but he’s not alone. 

        Every nerve ending is set on fire when your arms wrap around him too. Unable to hold back your happiness, you release a small giggle that has him pressing you impossibly closer. 

        “Yeah, you found me.”

        With that, he leans back, lips pursed in uncertainty. 

        “Umm, so do you wanna… like, erm, come watch me practice? I promise I’ll take you out after!”

        Seeing just how nervous he could be almost made you relax on instinct. An easy smile works its way onto your face. “Yeah,” you nod, body still abuzz with the tingles of his touch, “yeah, that sounds good.”

        “Great!” 

        Before you know it, Hinata’s encompassed your hand in his own warm one, leading you all the way out the school and to the second gym with a bored Kageyama on your tail. 

        “You gotta promise me one thing, though, before we go in there, YN.”

        “Sure, what’s up?”

        “Swear you won’t tug on the red string, okay? You have a terrible habit, and it always messes me up when I play!”

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.)” 

Heyy are you still taking requests?

Yepp, requests are still open!

On a Cold Winter’s Night (Oikawa x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Trapped in the university library due to a raging blizzard outside, you are forced to endure the cold night with the man you hate the most: the player who lives in the dorm across from you, Tooru Oikawa. But with tensions and anxieties at an all-time high, you begin to realize your feelings for Oikawa aren’t quite what you thought they were, especially when all he wants to do is keep you warm. 

A/N: I took like six hours to write this??? Bruh callin’ amateur hour in this bitch 😑😑 eh, whatever, enjoy!

Word count: 5345

        Snow, layers upon layers, piled up outside of the library. The glass doors of the library had long frosted over, and inside the lights began to flicker. Outside every window was a blanket of white, everything in the distance far too foggy to see through the flurry of flakes. 

       The lone television suspended above the library’s main desk played the same succession of videos–static with white noise, a scrolling of text warning people to stay inside, three loud buzzes, then more static with white noise. It far overpowered the sound of the library’s heater kicking on, its automatic settings desperately trying to battle the cold that succeeded in invading the closed and locked library. 

       You sighed, sparing another glance at the exit and the wall of snow that kept rising against it. Minutes ago you’d tried pushing open the doors, only succeeding in chilling the tips of your fingers against the frozen metal. Ever since then, your fingers never truly seemed to recover. 

       Just your luck; first a small windstorm had delayed your flight back home for Christmas Break, and now, just when you’d given up and decided to work on a few research projects while being stuck at the university, you were trapped inside the library. 

       But you weren’t alone. No, of course not. As if fate had it out for you, you were stuck inside the building with the one guy you despised with your whole being. 

       “Gum?”

       Oikawa held out a piece, a small smirk dancing on the edge of his lips. When all he received in response was a blank stare, he shrugged and unwrapped it, tossing it in his mouth before toying with the wrapper. 

       The both of you sat behind the librarian’s desk in tall, wooden stools. It was the only place with service, and it was where you had both scurried to the second the storm warning chimed through the announcement speakers. 

       While you had attempted to push through the doors, Oikawa had called the school’s main office, warning them of your predicament. Of course, he’d cut himself off halfway through with a cackle at the sight of the door slamming back in your face, but nonetheless he’d gotten a simple, if completely undesirable response. 

       “The both of you need to stay in there and not leave. It’s far too dangerous to go out into the blizzard right now. Tomorrow morning it should be calmed down, and then we’ll send people over to get you. For now, try to stay warm.”

       When he relayed this message to you, you had him put them on speaker so you could hear it with your own two ears. 

       Pop.

       Alas, it was the truth. You were stuck.

       Pop.

       With your worst enemy. Alone. 

       Pop.

       During a blizzard. 

       “Will you stop doing that?” you hissed, heaving a glare at him. 

       Oikawa froze in his seat, a gum-bubble the size of a golf ball slowly deflating with a wheeze. He raised his hands in surrender. “Excuse me for trying to find some source of joy in this miserable place. Maybe you should try having fun once in a while, YN.”

       Your cheeks burned in shame at that. “I have fun!”

       A single brown brow rose. “Do you?”

       “Yes,” you folded your arms across your chest, “I do. But unlike you, I don’t do it at the expense of other people’s sanity.”

       Long ago, amidst your third week of your first year at the university, you learned that you and Oikawa were two vastly different people. In co-ed dorms, he lived just across from you, and it seemed he reminded you of that every other night. 

       While loud music boomed across the hall and eventually spread throughout the building, you sat inside your dorms, hands over the headphones over your ears. You were usually leant over a textbook, pencil and notes abandoned long ago as you tried to comprehend the words despite not being able to hear your own thoughts. 

       Your roommate would slip out to join the fun, meeting and laughing with someone who had knocked on your door. Then that someone had tapped a single finger on your shoulder, squatting down beside your desk and leaning his head to one side. 

       As usual, a teasing smile danced on his lips. “You gonna join us, or sit here studying like a Debbie Downer?”

       You’d be the first–and most certainly not the last–to admit that he was attractive. Brown hair exploding in tufts and swept across his forehead. Bronze eyes twinkling in the light of your lamp. Thin, pink lips pulled into a goading grin. 

       “Come on, I promise the water’s warm.”

       It was at that moment that you started to hate him.

       “Get out of my room.”

       The smugness blanketing his face had dropped for a split second, and you genuinely wondered if you were the first to ever resist his charms. But how could you not, when in every second of your interaction with him, it felt like he was laughing at you?

       Hesitantly, it seemed, he rose to his feet, stumbling a bit. You shouldn’t have been surprised that he was already drunk, but you hadn’t smelled it earlier when he was inches from your face. 

       “All right,” he chuckled, rising to his full height with his hands on his knees. Swiftly, he turned and made his way to your door, not bothering to look back at you again. “I know when I’m not wanted. Enjoy your studying, YN.”

       How he’d learned your name, you never really. You’d figured he caught it on the first day of the one class you shared with him, English, amidst mandatory introductions. Since then, every time your name fell on his lips, he more sang it than said it, always in that sly tone of his. 

       You hated it. You hated him. 

       And now, as you spent the third day of Christmas Break locked inside alone with him in a freezing library, you found yourself despising him even more. 

       Pop.

       “Well, YN, you should know better than anyone that I have a knack for driving people insane,” Oikawa hummed, long fingers folding the edges of his gum wrapper against the desk surface. Your eyes drawn to the action, you absentmindedly scoffed. 

       “Yes, I certainly do.”

       His eyes darted to yours, an emotion flitting across them before dropping back down to his miniature origami. A chill ran up your spine. 

       “I’m going to go look for some blankets,” you sputtered out of the blue. You found yourself reflecting his shocked look, a little surprised at yourself at the outburst. 

       “Okay,” he grinned after a pause. “Hurry back soon.”

       Ignoring the wink he offered you, you slipped out of your chair and left him alone behind the desk counter, effectively beginning your search for stray, abandoned coverings. 

       Instantly, you realized the rest of the library was significantly chillier than the desk up front. Though the heater was still pumping and hissing through the air vents above you, it was now rattling much more forcefully than before.

       Must be the snow piling on top of the electrical system or something. 

       The fluorescent lights buzzed above you, still cutting off and flickering every few seconds as you passed bookshelf after labeled bookshelf. Signs labeled with genres and areas of study swung from the ceiling over rows of different-colored bindings. So distracted, you let out a yelp of pain after stubbing your toe against an abandoned book cart, plenty of go-backs filed one after the other in no discernible order. 

       “YN?” Far off, Oikawa’s voice called after you. Despite the distance you’d created between the two of you, he still must have heard your pained shout. A small part of you was surprised he bothered to acknowledge the noise at all. 

       Maybe he’s not a complete pain in the ass.

       “Yeah, that was me, I’m fine! Just hit my foot on something!”

       “Do you need help finding your way around? I’m sorry, I forgot my walking rope, so we’ll have to hold hands!”

       Nevermind, still a dick. 

       “Fuck you!”

       “That’s why I’m here!”

       Rolling your eyes, you purse your lips to prevent giving in to his teasing further. With a few hissed curses under your breath, you continue venturing through the uninhabited building. Though you did find a few abandoned belongings, none of which were of much use. A few too small hoodies, one suspicious pair of sweatpants, and some stray sunglasses. One poor soul even forgot their backpack at one of the work tables, and despite your initial curiosity, you refrained from digging through it and instead left it where it was. 

       It was when you arrived at the individual work areas divided by wooden partitions that your search finally paid off. Because it was arranged against a line of floor-to-ceiling windows, it was significantly colder in this work area than any other place you’d come across. Luckily, that also meant there was a higher chance of you finding spare blankets–which you did. 

       One was still strewn across the back of a work chair, a black fur throw with no designs but a single tear at one corner, presumably where a tag had been. Another, this one cream-colored, knitted wool, sat in a crumpled pile on the very last desk of the entire area, arranged in the furthest corner of the library from the entrance. The bulb in the ceiling above this desk had been out ever since the first time you’d been in the library, so you weren’t surprised to figure that people crammed out naps between studying in this dark little corner.

       While gathering the two–scratch that, there was another on the ground next to you–three blankets in your arms, you spared a look outside the windows. Frost and a glaze of ice covered each corner where metal met glass, and, because you were on the first floor, you could see how high the snow had piled by now. It reached as high as your hips, with more flakes joining or splatting against the pane every second. 

       The sun, you could see, was just barely setting, the gray of the sky growing darker. Soon enough, it was darker inside than it was outside. 

       The power. It had gone out.

       “YN!”

       Because the heater sputtered a few more clicks before kicking the bucket, you could barely hear Oikawa’s voice, far off and muffled, over the large distance you’d covered in the library. The lights above you no longer buzzed, and instead an unsettling silence took over the building. 

       “Oikawa! The lights!” You hugged the blankets to your chest with one straining arm, the other fumbling with your phone flashlight. You began the trek back to the front desk, squinting to try and make out shelves and stray books along the way. Despite the long-sleeved T-shirt you wore, a chill was beginning to nip at your skin, and you slowed to wrap a blanket around your shoulders. 

       “I know, the weight of the snow must have taken out the electrical box or something!” His voice was getting closer; he must have been making his way towards you in return. 

       Passing through the towering bookshelves, you made it out and turned a corner onto the main path they created. A shadow of a figure stood inches from your face. 

       “Shit!” You flinched back, kicking a leg out blindly in self-defense. The tip of your snow boot struck something hard, and a strangled groan escaped the person as they dropped to the floor. Now level with the light of your flashlight, the person was finally visible–Oikawa hugged his shin to his chest with clenched eyes and gritted teeth. 

       “Ow, ow, ow, owie!” 

       You winced, your guilt growing worse after realizing he had just been searching for you. 

       “Oh, sorry,” you cringed, dropping the blankets and hovering your hands over his coiled form. You wanted to help, you just weren’t sure how. “Do you… do you want some ice for that?”

       The glare he threw you chilled you to the bone more than the weather outside.

       “C’mon,” you hid a snigger behind your hand, straightening up and offering him the other, “it was just a joke. I really am sorry. Let’s get back to the front desk; I’ll help you.”

       The huff he released ruffled the bangs on his forehead. “I should make you kiss it better,” he pouted, hand latching onto yours and pulling himself up. He almost yanked you down with him, but you’d stationed a hand on one of the shelves for support the second you felt his whole weight. You hadn’t expected it, but you supposed you should have guessed it–Oikawa’s body was packed with muscle from years of playing volleyball. 

       Even now, as the main setter of your school’s team, he had daily workouts that only made his body stronger. You’d passed him once during a warm autumn day; he was jogging around campus shirtless while you were on your way back to the dorms after just getting out of class. He was headed straight for you, and during that time, everything seemed to move in slow motion. 

       One, two, three… eight, you’d counted, eyes raking down his chest. The sweat glistened on his bare skin, bathing him in a glowing sheen due to the midday sun. A narrow waist trailed down, down to volleyball shorts hanging slanted on his hips. A smug snicker drew your gaze up, past a broad chest and shoulders and onto Oikawa’s simpering face.

       “Like what you see?” his lips mouthed, but you couldn’t hear over the pounding in your ears, blood rushing to your face. 

       “You’re disgusting” were the only words you could think to say, though they were the exact opposite of how you felt. Maybe you were actually speaking to yourself, ashamed at the way your body reacted to a man you hated with your entire mind. Nonetheless, his face fell in shock, and you brushed past him, ignoring how he’d stopped dead in his tracks and continuing back to your dorm. 

       The view from that day was still imprinted in your mind, as though somehow your mind was afraid of forgetting it. Forgetting him. 

       But you would never forget how much you despised his attitude. 

       You released his hand as quickly as you’d grabbed it, reaching back down and gathering the blankets off the floor. A red flush took over your cheeks, and for the first time you were glad the electricity had gone out. Maybe the rest of your body was beginning to freeze, but your face was completely warm. 

       “I’m not kissing anything, perv.”

       You tried to leave him stranded behind you, moving forward to return to the front desk through the darkness, but his longer strides easily caught up with you aside from a small limp. 

       “The night is still young, YN.”

       Instead of a proper response, you settled for a scoff, avoiding the gaze you knew was locked on your face. An amused hum escaped the man beside you, but you blocked it out. 

       Finally back at the front desk, you spared another look outside. The sun had set completely now, a dark blue hue now in the sky as more and more snow collected against the glass. It seemed the warmth of the room had been sucked away completely, leaving behind a stale, frigid atmosphere that dried up the back of your throat.

       “The blankets will certainly help,” Oikawa broke the silence behind you, “but we’ll need more than that. I snagged what I could from the backroom, some water bottles left in the fridge or so, but we need food.” When you shifted to face him, he nodded his head toward the vending machine next to the restrooms. 

       “You want to break into the vending machine?” you deadpanned. 

       “Unless you’ve got generous amounts of cash, of course,” he smiled sarcastically. 

       “Maybe we should wait until morning before we start committing crimes.”

       Oikawa shrugged. “Desperate times, YN.”

       “We’re not that desperate.”

       “Not yet.” He eyed the cloud of air his words left, releasing a larger, experimental breath and watching the fog that hung in the air afterward. 

       The sight made your stomach clench a little. If the cold from the outside had seeped in that quickly, you had a feeling three measly blankets weren’t going to last the two of you through the night. A wave of goosebumps ran along your skin when you thought about the cold too much. 

       You swallowed. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. We just have to make it till morning.” The strain in your arms from holding onto the blankets too long finally drew your attention back to them, and you busied yourself with arranging the throws on the floor. You handed one to Oikawa, saving one for yourself before spreading the last on the floor behind the front desk. 

       The rough carpet floor was less unforgiving when covered with a blanket, but you knew that in a matter of minutes your backside would be numb either way. Oikawa snagged the water bottles off the counter and passed them down to you before settling on the floor himself, a distance far too close for your comfort, but the heat he was giving off silenced any of your complaints. 

       Then it was too quiet. You cracked open a water bottle and took a sip, then you opened it again and took another sip. All the while, you saw Oikawa watch you in your peripheral vision, and when his staring came to be too much, you scrambled for your phone. 

       “Shit.”

       “What?”

       You patted your hands down your legging pockets once more, then along the ground. You flapped around your blanket, hoping to hear a weight thump against the floor, but there was nothing. 

       “My phone’s missing.”

       “When did you-”

       “Dammit, I left it on the ground after kicking you!”

       “Hey,” Oikawa screeched, offended. “You say that like it was my fault!”

       “Well,” you rose to your feet, Oikawa following suit, “you were the one who scared the shit out of me!”

       “Didn’t you know I was looking for you?” He followed you down the main walkway through the shelves, his presence inches from your back.

       “Yeah, but I didn’t expect you to materialize right in front of my face!” In effort to escape his suffocating presence, you quickened your pace, eyes on the ground but not really seeing anything.

       “Oh, I’m sorry, my bad. Next time you go missing during a snowstorm, I’ll be sure to wear a bell so you know exactly where I am at all times.”

       “That’s not what-”

       Crack.

       The both of you froze in place, argument out of mind in an instant. 

       “Was that…?”

       “Uh oh.”

       You both directed your attention to underneath your foot, where an object lay cracked from your aggressive stomping. 

       Dropping your face into your hands, you let out a loud groan. “Could this day get any worse?”

       Oikawa had squatted down to investigate, nudging your leg out of the way before picking up your cracked phone. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, it was useless anyway.” He tapped and poked at the screen, toying with the buttons. “Looks like it was out of battery.”

       “Fuckkkkk.” You tore it from his hands, performing your own investigations of pats and brushes along the screen before calling it quits. “Isn’t yours out too?”

       Solemnly, he nodded, taking his phone out and allowing you to tap around on it before throwing it back in his pocket.

       “So we’re fucked?”

       “Majorly.”

       The pair of you slumped back to the main desk, flopping onto the ground and wrapping back up in your blankets. A shiver of cold mixed with frustration had taken over your body in a short span of time, causing your breaths to escape with slight chatters of your teeth. 

       You could feel it now, on the tips of your fingers and the end of your nose. A chill seeped through your leggings and slid up your shirt sleeves, sinking into every pore and leaving your hair standing on end. Your muscles began that all-too familiar buzz, a slow but steady trembling in effort to get your blood moving. Your toes curled in your boots. 

       “It’s cold,” you commented, the words slipping out like an afterthought. 

       You thought he’d agree, hum, or even nod his head. Instead, Oikawa scooted closer to you on the blanket, enough that his upper arm brushed the end of your shoulder. Then, slowly, as though approaching a wounded animal, his arm rose and wrapped around you, not only covering you with his heat but also with his blanket, still soaked in the warmth from his body. 

       Mind blank, you didn’t move a muscle for what seemed to be five minutes after he’d moved to embrace you. 

       “Is this okay?” he’d whispered into the silence, voice soft yet hesitant. 

       “W-why?”

       “You said you were cold.” He shifted a little, but didn’t move away. And surprisingly enough, you didn’t want him to. “I–didn’t want you to be cold.”

       A blanket of silence falls over the two of you, an atmosphere of peace you never thought you’d experience with the brunette man in your life. His warmth left you in a sort of lethargic trance; you didn’t want to move away, though your mind was urging you to, nor did you have the energy to. For the first time, you wanted Oikawa close to you, and you didn’t want him to leave for a while.

       You were exhausted.

       Formerly, the two of you were both leaning back against the wall. Now, tucked into Oikawa’s side, your right arm pressed into the side of his chest while your left was cushioned a distance from the wall by Oikawa’s arm, wrapped sturdily around your shoulders and urging you to lean toward him instead. 

       Man, you were tired. 

       “YN?”

       “Hmm?” Your eyes cracked back open, and you shifted your gaze to him, waiting. 

       His head was leaned back against the wall, eyes still closed as a single brown tuft of hair fell across his forehead. In the light the moon reflected off the snow, you could see the length of his lashes brushing the apples of his cheeks, the sharp edge of his jawline that you yearned to run a finger along. He didn’t bother to look at you for a response when he muttered, “Why do you hate me?”

       The question zapped you to attention like a taser, guilt flooding your chest for a reason you didn’t quite think you knew. There was a strong urge in you to pull away from him, but the hand on your arm tightened, halting any drastic movements.

       “I… I don’t…”

       “I know you do,” he sighed, tongue running out along his lips. “Please, just tell me.” There was a sort of surrender in his voice you never thought you’d hear. For a second, you missed his smug tone. You missed the teasing lilt of his voice. You missed the Oikawa you knew. 

       You wanted him back. 

       “You’re weirding me out, Oikawa.” In this position, you couldn’t poke him in the cheek, so you settled for his thigh. He barely flinched, peeking a single eye open. “Go back to acting like that smug little shit I know you are.” His lips quirked up.

       “I promise I’m still me, YN. I’m just a bit curious is all.”

       “Yeah, well, it’s freaking me out. I want the normal you back.”

       Wrong words.

       “You do?” He was wide awake at that, head straightened up and eyes wide and at attention. If he was a dog, his tail would be wagging. 

       “Nevermind.” You twisted in his grip to get your back facing him. 

       “No, no, noooo.” Both of his hands grabbed onto your shoulders, shaking you back and forth. “Say it again. Say you want me again.”

       “God, you’re such a perv,” you stutter, voice wavering with his movements.

       “You’re so mean, YN!” he whines, finally releasing your shoulders. You think he’s given up and let down your guard slightly, a little curious at his expression. But when you turn your head to face him, two arms wrap around your waist, yanking you back and in between Oikawa’s outstretched legs. 

       “What the-” While you struggle in his arms, Oikawa only holds you closer, leaning back and taking you with him so your back rests against his front. He hooks his head over your shoulder, and you tense when you feel a breath of warm air against your ear. 

       A shiver tears through your body, but you’re relieved he doesn’t comment on it. 

       “Say it again, YN.” And he definitely feels the shiver that time. A breathless snicker heats up the skin of your neck, but you’re too trapped in his arms to escape the overwhelming feeling it erupts in you. 

       “God, I hate you,” you sigh instinctively. 

       Oikawa grows still. The fun and games are over, it seems, as he pulls his head away from your neck. The arms encircling your waist have become rigid. 

       There’s a thump against the wall. Then a pause. “Why?”

       You bite your lip, and though the words are on the tip of your tongue, you can’t seem to force them out. You’re ashamed, embarrassed, regretful. All of those ugly feelings he pulls out of you every other day, you draw out of yourself in this moment. 

       “Oikawa, I-”

       “Tooru,” he corrects.

       Flustered, you continue, “Tooru… whenever you… you always just… I never…” You groan at your lack of words, throwing frustrated hands over your face. The heat in your body, though small, rises. “I just feel stupid around you.”

       “Stupid?”

       “Like an idiot.”

       “Idiot?”

       “Yeah.”

       “Yeah?”

       “Stop it.”

       “Sorry,” he pauses, “I just… you think you feel stupid? Around me?”

       You don’t understand what he means, so you stay silent. 

       “So… you feel like an idiot around me… why, exactly?”

       “Because,” you wave your hands around, not really sure what your gestures are doing considering he can’t see them, “you just… you tease me all the time! And when we’re in class and you look at me and I just feel like I’ve got shit all over my face! And when you throw those stupid-ass parties, I feel so lame because it’s not like I don’t want to socialize, but I hate the way people act at parties! And then you come along and tell me that I should join, but I know it’s gonna fucking suck and I know you’re gonna see that I stick out during parties like a sore thumb and that makes me feel even worse and I-”

       “YN!” A hand slips from your waist, slapping over your mouth and effectively cutting off your rambling. A disbelieved breath sounds behind you. “Jesus Christ, YN.”

       And you feel like even more of an idiot. You take some pleasure in the fact that he can’t see you as tears begin springing in the corners of your eyes. 

       But then there’s a hard pressure against the back of your head. And then something soft against the back of your neck. “YN, YN, YN,” and you realize his lips are on your neck, his face buried into your hair, “God, you just… you drive me fucking crazy, you know that?”

       You didn’t know that.

       “The fact that you can say all of that, and think all of that, and feel all of that, without realizing why I even do it at all drives me insane.” You feel his mouth move against you with every word, your skin growing hot under his breath. You try to speak against his hand, and thankfully he pulls it away when you do, returning it to your waist as though it doesn’t muddle your mind. 

       “What are you talking about?” 

       And he laughs like it’s the dumbest question in the world. And maybe it is, but you have to know. 

       His lips are on your neck one last time before he pulls away, leaning back against the wall once more and taking you with him. “YN,” his fingers twitch against your skin, the cold of them biting through the fabric of your shirt, “do you have feelings for me?”

       And you feel like the biggest idiot of all, because you do. 

       You do have feelings for him, and you only just realized that now. 

       “Holy shit.” 

       Oikawa stiffens. “What?”

       “I have feelings for you.” The words slip out before you can stop them, mostly because you’re still in disbelief. Did you really? After all this time of thinking you hated him, of hating how he teased you, you seriously had feelings for him and you didn’t even notice?

       Stupid. So very stupid. 

       A loud scoff from Oikawa breaks you out of your stupor. 

       “Jesus Christ, you’re gonna drive me nuts.”

       And you can’t even turn around and call him an asshole because he’s turning you in his grip and pressing his lips against yours. The hand on your chin, the other on your hip, all to pull you closer, spin you around and tug you onto his lap without separating from you. 

       Your hands are in his hair, and you’re tugging, and it’s that whine you always hear whenever you don’t respond to his teasing, that needy one you thought you always hated because it just shakes you to your core but now you get it, you finally understand it. And those long fingers, the ones he always slams onto your notes drunkenly whenever he’s having a party and you’re not there but you forgot to lock your door so now he’s in your room and he’s bothering you, begging you and toying with you to get your attention, those fingers that have stolen your notebook away and held over your head while he smiles and stubbles around, getting you to chase him–they’re on your hips and you know they’re leaving bruises and you like that they’re leaving bruises. 

       You like it all because it’s so cold tonight and he’s so warm and he’s always so warm and you want more, more, more. 

       And he hovers over you, and you gasp. You hate how he teases you because he loves it so much, and that makes you love it. You love it. 

       It is cold tonight. There’s a blizzard raging right outside the doors to the library, stacking up snow higher and higher. You’re both trapped, but you don’t want to leave. Because despite all of the cold, you’re both very, very warm. 

                               ~~~

       The next morning, when people find the two of you, they blame it on that little notion that runs through everyone’s minds when people are stuck together during a cold blizzard, because surely that’s what it must be. 

       And surely that’s why your cheeks are flushed and full of embarrassment, because although everybody knows how weird it can be, during such a life-threatening situation, it’s a desperate attempt to stay warm.

       So when they found you the next morning, thankfully safe and sound and wrapped around each other to try and preserve warmth, they were glad that you two innocent, poor little students, who must have been so scared to be trapped in a building without electricity and heat, were going to be okay, and that they could safely escort you out of the building and back to your dormitories with an official apology. 

       Until one of you asked if they could leave so you could finish what you’d started. 

       “Tooru, you fucking pervert!”

Explosive Antics (Genos x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: After playing a cheating prank on your boyfriend with a rather loud, raunchy video, Genos decides to take his frustration out on the laptop that tricked him. 

A/N: Short little oneshot of Genos’ s/o pranking him with a porn vid. Another prank for the series, hope y’all like it! (PS: thanks so much for the support recently!)

Word count: 769

        Genos was always tightly wound. He rarely smiled, barely went outside without Saitama, and always kept things short and simple when it came to romantic gestures. Flowers here and there, forehead kisses occasionally, and maybe once he had actually made out with you. Maybe. You were growing impatient, and you wanted to fuck with him, just really grind his gears to see if you could get a reaction out of him. 

        Snickering to yourself, you search on the website for the longest, loudest video imaginable while your phone buzzes.

Cyborg babe <3: I’ll be over in two minutes. 

        He would let himself in. You had given him a key months ago. The timing was perfect too. You played the video, flinching at the pornographic moans that suddenly arose, and cranked up the volume as high and realistic as possible. 

        “Oh, this is gonna be good,” you snicker to yourself, rubbing your hands together maniacally with wide, mischievous eyes. Closing the door to your room, you tried to ignore how uncomfortable the screams and grunts erupting from your laptop made you feel, and you hole up in your bathroom across the hall.

        Just as you shut the door, the main one to your apartment opens. 

        “YN!” Genos announces loudly, entering your home and locking it behind him. “I brought you lunch....” He hears them. The moans. God, how you wish you could see his face! You’re shivering with excitement and pressing your ear against the door. 

        “Oh my God!” You whisper to yourself, biting your lip anxiously. “This is gonna be so good!” With your hand on the doorknob, you wait for Genos to move and scrunch up your face eagerly. 

        “YN?” He questions aloud once more, voice quieter this time.

        Heavy footfalls trail closer and closer to your door and you hold in a breath, waiting for your bedroom to open. 

        “YN, what are you doing?” he whispers outside your door. His tone has dropped, and for the first time since you’ve known him you think he falters. The creaking of the handle squeaks as he slowly enters and freezes at the sight before him. It’s at this time you can’t wait any longer and bust out of the bathroom, pushing into your bedroom and staring at Genos’ blank face. The video still plays while you observe his face, totally flabbergasted at his nonexistent reaction. 

        Oh, come on!

        Your laptop rattles on the bed with its volume while sounds of passion echo around the room. Your face grows red with embarrassment while you wait for him to speak up. You stand side by side while his dark eyes are still locked on the screen.

        “Well,” you pipe up from beside him, drawing closer to his tense form, “did I get you-” In an instant, a wave of heat smacks you in the face as your laptop explodes into a million sizzling pieces on your bed, Genos lowering his arm slowly after. 

        Your jaw drops at the sight while your boyfriend remains silent, listening to the crackles of the dying flames on your blankets. Plastic and glass chunks are splayed everywhere across your room. With hair blasted away from your face, your eyes grow to the size of dinner plates as you stare at the ruination.

        “What. The. Hell.” You seethe slowly, fingers twitching at your sides. One firm, metallic hand wraps around your shoulders as Genos twists to pull you into his embrace. He’s hard but warm, and even though he’s not the most comfortable hugger in the world, you cherish his holds every time he’s willing to give one to you. Except for now.

        “Dude! You just kablooeyed my homework!” You try to wiggle away to observe the wreckage once more but he grips you tighter, halting your movements. The smell of smoke once drifting through your nostrils exchanges with Genos’ personal scent, fresh laundry and clean metal, as your face is forced into his solid chest.

        Huffing out a sigh, you give in and wrap your arms around him, patting his back gently.

        “Your prank was ineffective,” he monotonously mumbles into your hair. You scoff and hold him closer, reluctantly reveling in the heat he gives off. 

       “Yeah, tell that to my incinerated laptop.”

hellooo! i'm just stopping by to request a prompt similar to Conan Gray's song "Heather". One where you've got this crush on him and the feelings seem to be reciprocated, and this flirty banter is going on between you two, but suddenly there's somebody else in the picture. a n g s t please. i want my feelings to be hurt

Another a n c i e n t request from years past. The name wasn't specified, so I had chosen Nishinoya bc he's a lil cutie:

The bandaid

Yn doesn’t want to acknowledge that Noyas moved on in high school, but then she sees him around Kiyoko. 

The bandaid was ripped off. You couldn’t lie to yourself anymore. He didn’t like you. Maybe he never did, or maybe he used to, right now...no.

Okay, so yn likes him and they flirt so she thinks he likes her back

Then they both move on to Karasuno, where Kiyoko comes into the picture and BAM, no more yn

Nishinoya doesn’t flirt with her or anything, instead talking to her like a normal person before bounding off at the sight of Kiyoko.

Yn enters the class with noya and Tanaka and hears them talking about the “absolute babe” that is Kiyoko. Yn greets Noya and he says hi before rambling on about Kiyoko

You thought he liked you....

Misleading Marks (Iwaizumi x Reader/Soulmate AU)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Your soulmark is a wonderfully misleading pain in the tuchus. Luckily, your hunk of a soulmate makes it all worth it. 

A/N: Started off rough, but I swear the ending is better. Love me some good old soulmate aus. Enjoy!

Word count: 1803

        When your soulmark first popped up on your wrist, you adored its simplicity. It had come to you on the morning of your fifteenth birthday, and you couldn’t help but admire it the whole day. Even through school, your teachers had eventually given up on gathering your attention. You were otherwise occupied with worshiping the blatant statement on your wrist. “Hi, my name is Oikawa,” it read, and you kept rubbing your thumb over it, eventually developing a nervous habit from the act. You couldn’t help it; it was comforting. Knowing someone was out there, perfect for you. And easily detectable thanks to their words. You felt blessed.

       That mindset on your soulmark didn’t last long. Soon, you attended Karasuno High School and made new friends. Friends who had more exciting soulmarks. For example, Kiyoko had the cheesy pickup line “Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?” inscribed on the inside of her forearm. While she found it less than satisfactory and often cursed fate for giving her a pervert for a soulmate, you thought it was rather endearing. The person meant for her seemed playful and fun, and you begin to think of your own soulmate differently. Insecurities began to run through your mind more and more every day. Even Sugawara, another friend of yours, had a cute phrase. “Do you have candles for all that cake?” Adorable. A little straightforward, but you liked it nonetheless.

       Just to be clear, you adored your friends, and you were happy they had gotten such fun soulmates. But to be honest, their marks made you jealous, and at times you would stare at your own and wonder if you were destined for simplicity like that for the rest of your life. It was, after all, your soulmate’s first words to you. But before you could judge, you wanted to meet him. Oikawa, your apparent soulmate. 

                               ~~~

       It was your third year of high school before you ever heard his name aloud. While helping Kiyoko manage a practice volleyball game at Aoba Johsai, you finally heard the name you had been waiting for for three years. 

       “Oikawa, so glad you’re back, you pain in the ass. Now come out here and set for us!” The spikey-haired ace of the opposing team demanded with admittedly attractive folded arms. 

       “You’re so mean, Iwaizumi! Can’t you take it a little easy on me? I am injured, after all,” the brunet whined. The rest of the argument faded away as you dazed off in wonder. At first, your eyes were still stuck on the ace, but you began to feel guilty and pulled them away to stare at the newcomer. At your soulmate. He was hot so was that “Iwaizumi”, tall, and playful, many traits you admired in a guy. But he just seemed… disappointing for some reason. He seemed wrong. You chalked it up to your past predictions of him being lame. After all, you couldn’t let feelings like those get in your way. You were closer than ever to meeting the man on your wrist; Kiyoko had even given you a pointed look, which you had shaken off. Meeting with him would have to wait till after the game. 

                               ~~~

       Whelp, the game had ended fairly quickly, but damn did Oikawa have an arm. It was like a rocket, and you couldn’t help but compare it to the ace’s on his own team. You know, for strength-wise comparison’s sake, totally not anything else. Totally. Anyways, after the teams thanked each other and you helped Kiyoko clean up the stray water bottles, you asked her for advice on how to talk to him. 

       “Just go do it,” she shrugged, her voice flat and matter-of-fact-like. When you had first met her, the emotionless she seemed to have irked you at first. Now that you had known her for years and become her best friend, however, you knew she cared deep down. Her tone when she spoke just never showed it, and you were finally used to it. What you were not okay with, now, was her terrible advice.

       “Seriously? That’s it, that’s all you got? ‘Just go do it’? Dude, you’re killing me here.” She sent you a withering glare at your whining and you froze at the sight. Oh right, she was friggin’ terrifying at times, too. 

       “It’s now or never, YN.” Okay, that one got to you. She was right, this could be your last chance, or your first meeting with your soulmate. Only you could decide. Flashing her a grateful smile, you rushed out a “thank you” before jogging to the other bench on the court where he was packing up equipment as well. 

       “H-hey, um, I’m YN,” you stammered and bit your lip bitterly at the embarrassing first words he definitely had on his body now.

       With an arrogant glint in his eyes, he smiled back charmingly at you and smoothly replied, “Nice to meet you. I’m Oikawa.” Uh oh. Those aren’t the right words. Now you have an itty bitty problem. 

       “Oh.” That’s all you could manage to sputter.

       “Oh?” he questioned cheekily, taking a step toward you. You stumbled back at his advancement while laughing nervously. Visibly confused at your reaction, Oikawa furrowed his brows while he halted himself in place a foot or two away from you. 

       Finally having enough breathing room, you shake your head to clear it. An action which you soon come to regret as you seemed to have lost your filter in the process. You question him thoughtlessly, “Do you have any siblings?” Thankfully, he doesn’t appear to take offense. Oikawa was smarter than he looked, as he caught on quickly. 

       “Not any that don’t already have soulmates,” he answered pityingly, eyes softening at the words on your wrist. 

       Swiftly, you tug your mark behind your back and wave your other hand dismissively. “That’s okay. Umm I have to go now, bye.” Without another word, you hustle out of the room and out to the bus waiting to return to Karasuno, not actually sad but more frustrated at the sympathetic eyes that trailed after you.

Stomping angrily up the bus steps, you sat down harshly in the seat next to Kiyoko, who questioned you silently. You only shook your head in response, your mouth setting into a hard line. She didn’t say anything but grabbed your hand and squeezed it comfortingly. Lips quirking up at the action, you squeeze back gratefully before shifting around in your seat and falling asleep to the bus ride’s gentle lulling.

                               ~~~

       Seeing him again made your heart pang slightly. It was the first official tournament of Karasuno’s volleyball season, the Interhigh Preliminaries. You were alone in your section of stands, and happened to be one of the few people here to support your school. But still, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to the other court.

There, Aoba Johsai was playing. No, they were winning, and by a landslide at that. Oikawa was smirking, but you figured that was his normal facial expression at this point. However, he wasn’t the one who had caught your attention right off the bat. It was that damn brown-haired ace again, and watching his muscles flex everywhere right before he spiked was… thrilling in a way. Your eyes pledged loyalty to his biceps, and you weren’t one to go back on your promises. At least, until you had to pee. Nature called, and you really had to pick up. 

       After doing your business and washing up, you pushed your way out of the bathroom and waved your hands around like an enthusiastic nutcase to air-dry. 

       “Damn empty paper tow-” your bitter mumbling was interrupted by a voice that was evidently more familiar to your heart than to your brain. Giving in to its demands, you subconsciously followed the sound while simultaneously eavesdropping on the conversation. 

       “Why don’t you just ask her out then, Shittykawa?”

       “You know I hate that nickname, Iwa. And plus, I’ve only talked to her once before at that practice game against my annoying prodigy.”

       “So what? You’ve asked out girls before without even knowing their names.” Their voices were getting closer, and just as you step around the corner into your hallway, you make eye contact with that panty-dropper of an ace- oh shit, where’d that come from? He looks back to his friend- is that Oikawa?- before continuing, “Just walk over to her and say,” the volleyball player halted his words before directing them at you in a mockingly shrill voice and imitating, “Hi, my name is Oikawa.” A shock flowed through your system and you tensed up at the words. Oh, hello there, not Oikawa. You knew you should respond. But even though you didn’t want to dishonor yourself and your cow, your jaw felt wired shut. Your mouth, however, got a little impatient at your lame excuse. 

       “I thought your name was Iwaizumi.” Your soulmate stopped in his tracks and stared at you in amazement. Yeah buddy, now you know how I feel.

Oikawa’s whines began to fade away along with the world around you as you gawk at the ace, but that was nothing new. You zone out all the time while staring creepily at people, it’s just that now it’s socially acceptable because he’s your soulmate.

His olive orbs are captivating, but not enough to distract you from the awkward silence that begins to ensue. It was painfully quiet, and after a while you tried to escape his eyes and look away only for your eyes to stop at his broad chest, disappointingly covered in an open white and turquoise jacket. Sadly, his jersey resided underneath. You know, lately I’ve heard that going around shirtless is all the rage nowadays. Wanna be more trendy? Hey, maybe next time you could say that out loud. Soulmates were supposed to love each other implicitly, so he might actually listen, right? You're halted in your mental rambling when Iwaizumi begins to chuckle, causing a wrinkle in his shirt. That wouldn’t be a problem if he just took it off. Suddenly, you have to dropkick yourself out of your daze when he begins to speak, figuring you should probably start learning how to listen to others now that you found your “other half.” 

       “Sorry you almost thought you were stuck with Shittykawa here for a second.” He gestures to that one guy standing next to him while glancing down at your soulmark. Without another thought, you begin to smile widely at him, reveling in the mischievous twinkle in his catlike eyes while savoring the lovable grin on his face. Fate, you sneaky bastard. You win this round.

bakugo when the reader is like in that cheerleader outfit from the sports festival 😳😳🤯🤯

Bakugou’s S/O in Sport’s Festival Cheer Outfit (BNHA Headcanons)

*GIF not mine*

A/N: Bruhhhh this was such a good idea, but I’m not gonna lie, I got a lil thirsty😳 Like seriously, this shit gets 🥵, so read with caution?? In all honesty, I hope you like it! Please enjoy!

Word count: 637

Oof, now this is a concept

When you do this, you’re playing a dangerous game, poking the bear, riling up a cobra preparing to strike. 

While the other girls dressed up for sake of competition, you did it to play with fire. 

You’re standing on the field, thighs and midriff bare for all the viewers to see like fresh meat on a platter. 

Then finally-- finally-- Bakugou steps out with his other classmates and confronts the sight. 

His eyes are just… roaming.

Butterflies flutter in your stomach at the sight as the atmosphere grows harder to breathe. The tension finally snaps when he- umm what?

Explodey boy charges at you with a sneer, his hands outstretched and sparking. 

He’s livid.

“YN! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU WEARING?!” 

His tone is scolding and accusatory, almost like a father chastising a child. 

You weren’t exactly one to drool over being chided. In fact, your boyfriend just lit a fire under your ass. 

“Excuse me?”

“Take it off right now!” 

Oh-ho no, that’s NOT happening. 

Bakugou couldn’t believe you, testing him by going out in front of others by wearing that.

Rage pumped through his bloodstream at the sight, but not only that. His pants were growing tighter as well. 

He knew you were peeved at his tone, but the last thing he wanted on you was other people’s wandering eyes.

You were his, and as much as he didn’t wanna be that guy… he was totally gonna be that guy. 

Bakugou steps closer to you and ignores how you try to back away determinedly. His hand latches onto yours and drags you away, tugging you off the field and away from prying eyes. 

You struggle to keep up with his vigorous strides and huff in anger when he finally stops, pulling you into a room and locking the door. 

The room is silent as his back faces you. Not one part of you is afraid, all of your limbs held tight in preparation for an attack. 

“YN,” uh oh, “do you have any idea how fucking unbearable you are right now?” 

Ah, such a way with words. 

Anyways…

His voice is strained and dripping with lust, and when he finally turns around you understand why. 

Bakugou’s nostrils are flaring, and he takes deliberate steps closer to you. Try all you want, you can’t stop the harsh thumping of your heart at this moment. 

When he’s finally close enough, his hand grasps your wrists and walks you back, back, back until you make contact with a cold wall. 

“You made this mess, sweetheart,” he trails his lips down your throat. “Now fix it.” 

An hour later, Bakugou is called out to fight. He swaggers into the arena, disheveled hair barely noticeable from this distance. Thankfully, the high neck of his jacket covers a few hickeys as well. 

 You, however, scramble back into the stands, hair ruffled and clothes oversized. 

“Aww YN, where’d the cheerleading outfit go?” Toru pouts, waggling her pom poms.

Nervously giggling, you collapse into a seat next to her, ignoring the shakiness of your legs as you try to sit in a comfortable position. Ouch. 

“I, uh, I had to change. I was getting a little cold.” 

Not really. But Bakugou’s sweatshirt combined with leggings hides his lovebites better than that outfit ever would. 

It is definitely still tucked in the back of your closet for… future occasions, though.

Standing down in the arena, Bakugou spots you in the stands and throws you a devilish smirk that has you squeezing your legs together.

Would you be interested in writing about something with Garou and a werewolf?

definitely depends on the prompt/idea, but i'd for sure consider it. My only concern is that w Garou i like using a reader without powers bc writing as though the reader is on even ground w Garou power-wise feels unrealistic and a little unappealing for me. I've done it once before, but now that the manga has moved on to show he's turning into a really powerful character, i'd hate to start dropping mary sues all over the place

if the idea of a possessive werewolf!garou x innocent human!reader aint the hottest thing i've heard of in a while tho👀

After the Breakup (BNHA Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: Welp, I was going to write for more people but when I started for these two babes-for-characters I guess I just couldn’t stop🤷‍♀️. Not quite sure how these headcanons turned out but hey, hope you like ‘em! (Btw they get a lil saucy, but I’m just in that mood so y’all are just gonna have to accept them for what they are🤷‍♀️)

Word count: 2120

Bakugou Katsuki: 

Wants to ignore you 

Definitely the type to fold his arms and turn away when you enter a room or scoff when you talk to another guy

But when you walk away the guy is being given a glare that could put him six feet under

Acts cold to you--not exactly like how he did before he was interested in you, like how he calls everyone “extras,” but more so like he just sneers at you for no reason and rolls his eyes everytime you speak

Lil pomeranian boi just misses you really badly

But he hates the idea that you have that much power over him that you could draw him back to your side in a matter of seconds. It frustrates him how much he wants you back

At one point he’s tired of having nightmares of you leaving night after night--especially now that he doesn’t have you to comfort him after waking up in a cold sweat. 

So he’ll climb out of bed and stomp over to your door

And proceed to stare at it for about twenty minutes with his mind and heart running marathons

What does he say?

What does he do?

Would you be mad? Sad? Disappointed?

Or… would you even care that he was still in love with you?

It all becomes too much, and soon enough he just has to know

So he raises a fist to pound on your door loud enough to wake the entire floor

And the door opens before he even makes contact. 

“Katsuki?”

“YN.” Surprisingly, Bakugou feels all too calm at this moment, like he knows exactly what to say. 

“What are you doing here?”

A muscle in Bakugou’s chin twitches as he struggles to find the exact words. He wanted to make his point but he also didn’t want you to slam the door in his face. “I… Look. You told me that we should both move on and that I should get over you.”

“Katsuki-”

“But here’s the thing, YN,” when he takes a step forward, you take a step back and he physically flinches at the movement, “I don’t want to.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want to get over us and move on to other people. I don’t want to see you with other guys when I know I could make you happier. That I have made you happier.”

“Katsuki,” your face softens, “you don’t have to-”

“Don’t tell me what I don’t have to do, YN. I’m not letting you go, understood? Try to move on all you want, I’m not going to let you. I’ll scare off any man you even talk to if I have to-”

Two hands piled over his mouth shut him up instantly and you lean past Bakugou to glance both ways down the hall before yanking him inside your room. 

As soon as the door’s shut, you turn to him and shake your head with the smallest little smile. 

“Katsuki, you dumbass. I was just going to leave my room to give you the same lecture.”

“Huh?”

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” you cup his cheek, reveling in the foreign look of shock on the blond’s face, “so no need for anymore threats on guys I may or may not go out with… unless you’re really willing to go after yourself that badly.”

Relief floods through Bakugou’s body, warming him up with the thoughts that he didn’t need to worry about truly losing you at all--as it turns out, you agreed you were his just as much as he did. 

“So… we’re back together?”

“Yep, unless…”

Oh shit

“Unless what?” Bakugou froze under your touch and reached a hand up to secure your palm against his cheek. “What is it?”

It almost pissed him off that you were able to laugh so freely while he was in an obvious state of panic. 

“Well, I was gonna suggest break-up sex but judging by just how badly you want to get back together, it seems like that’s off the table.”

Oh. Oh you damned little thing. 

Such a fucking tease. 

“Nah,” Bakugou shook his head and before you knew it, you were being forced down onto your bed, wrists locked tightly above you. “You’ve got the right idea. Break-up sex tonight, and tomorrow we can make up all day long.”

Kirishima Eijirou: 

On the surface, Kirishima is the same old manly man everyone knows him to be

But his eyes no longer have that same glint

And that smile just always seems seconds away from faltering

His red hair seems less spiky than usual, and those bags under his eyes are just the biggest tell

Kirishima is broken. 

He’s not grinning and holding your hand as he walks into class anymore, escorting you to your seat with a perhaps almost overdone kiss. Instead, he almost slumps to his own seat, avoiding eye contact with as many people as possible. 

But the instant you step into the classroom, you feel it.

You sit in the front row, giving him plenty of freedom to watch you for the entire day.

Kirishima thinks it’s natural, it’s harmless. He’s just trying to get over an ex--everyone knows how hard that is.

But he’s just making things worse. He tortures himself by constantly standing to attention anytime you speak. Or anytime your name is mentioned. Or anytime someone who remotely looks like you walks by him. 

No, he’s not doing great at this “moving on” thing, and he knows that. 

But part of it’s because he just can’t believe that you’re not struggling to do it either. 

Kirishima knows none of those kisses and “I love yous” were lies. He knows you meant every single hug and smile you ever gave him. Every time you said you cared about him, he could see in your eyes that you meant it wholeheartedly.

So maybe you could see how he wondered why loving you was suddenly so painful. 

Because now you were broken up and all this love he had to give you had nowhere to go and nowhere to be. It was like the love he had for you was useless. 

Kirishima hated those words, that thought. That being in love with you for all those months was useless, and that it just needed to be flushed away. 

All those plans he had of being with you, becoming superheroes at one another’s side and raising a family together. Planning ahead so far to even name the bridesmaids and groomsmen of your wedding and the names of your children. 

The future house and the rooms of that house, how many there would be and what kinds they were. You needed a library, one he was all too ready to build for you and he wanted a mancave you would surely supply with snacks.

All of that was useless. 

But Kirishima didn’t want to think so. So he came up with a plan. 

And when you walked into class the next day, Kirishima sat in your assigned seat, and you knew you smelled mischief. 

“Eijirou… whatcha doin’?”

When Kirishima raised his eyes to yours, the corner of his mouth turned up just an inch. 

“Sitting.”

You purse your lips. “I see that. But you know you could do the same exact thing in your own seat, right?”

The conversation wasn’t exactly a spectacle--the only other people in the room were in the back of the class talking amongst themselves distractedly. No one would bother to interfere. 

“Well, YN,” Kirishima leaned back, “I kinda want to trade places for a day. I wanna sit in your seat and act all nonchalant, pretending like I actually wanted us to break up-”

You could hear his voice growing choked up and moved to stop him. “Eijirou-”

“-and you can sit in my seat and do as I do. Remember how happy we were and how much you said you loved me. And how I broke up with you anyway.”

It was cold, like the room had suddenly dropped a few degrees. The boy everyone thought didn’t have a single mean bone in his body seemed to flip a switch in himself, turning emotionless in the blink of an eye. 

For him to act like you never loved him almost hurt as much as when you broke up with him. In all honesty, you thought it was for the best at the time. You felt it would help both of you focus on your studies so that you could become better heroes than anything. 

You thought that’s what Kirishima wanted, and that you were doing what was best for him. But you were wrong.

It seemed all he really wanted was you--being a hero had moved to second. 

“Eijirou…”

So the question was did you want him just as badly?

“YN…”

Becoming a hero was the entire reason you came to this school, and was also the reason you broke off one of the best relationships you’d ever had. You’d thought you were making things better. 

But had it really helped anything?

“Eijirou, I…”

Your grades had actually dropped. Terribly. You couldn’t remember the last time you actually got quality sleep. 

And judging by Kirishima’s dark circles, he was suffering the same side effects. 

These weren’t the symptoms of withdrawal--they were just the signs of a mistake. 

So as you looked into Kirishima’s eyes, hard enough to see past all the barriers he had put up, you could see the same questions you kept asking yourself. 

Why did I ever think this was worth it? Why did I ever think this would help me be happy?

The answer was it didn’t. 

And trial and error was a pain in the ass. 

“Eijirou, I’m sorry.” Your brows drew together in regret as you lowered your gaze, reaching over to grab the hand Kirishima had tensed on the desktop. “Maybe… no. Breaking up was definitely a mistake, and I wasn’t even thinking of the shit I was going to put both of us through by doing that. I’m sorry.”

But just as his mouth opened to respond, the bell rang and twenty other students flooded in in a mad dash to get to their seats. 

Before you moved to claim Kirishima’s seat as your own, you made a split second decision that you hoped could display even a little of what you were thinking. 

Kirishima froze at the kiss, his eyes going wide as you tilted his chin up to give yourself access. His lips were soft, just as you’d dreamt about for the last five nights, and tasted like that damned chapstick he always wore. 

And when you pulled away, he tried to reach out to stop you but you stepped away from his desperate hands, instead navigating your way back to his desk. 

Kirishima was frantic, spinning in your seat to get a look at your blushing face while his own mouth stayed open enough to catch a couple flies. The second your lips quirked up into a smirk, he almost jerked back with whiplash. 

Fucking hell, she did not just-

“Okay class,” Aizawa slumped into the classroom with his usual cheerfulness. “I want you to take a look at-wait.” The teacher paused for just a second to take note of Kirishima’s back facing him and you just five seats away whistling and observing the ceiling with interest. 

“YLN, Kirishima, get back to your original seats for God’s sake. There’s no time for this.”

All too ready, Kirishima rose from your chair and made his way towards you with eyes unsteady and hungry. 

Tonight you would explain just what exactly you were thinking when you decided to break up with Kirishima out of the blue. I mean, you seriously almost gave him a heart attack. 

Directly after school though…

Kirishima caught your arm as you moved to walk past him and threw you a look that would stick in your mind for the rest of class. Just as fast, he released you completely and dropped into his seat, eyes locked on your every move as you slid into your own.

Oh yeah. Directly after school, he was going to make you pay for the pain you put his mind through with your body.