Looking out the window, you release a heavy sigh. The shift
of your legs makes you wince as cheap vinyl pulls against exposed skin. You
cross your legs left over right, then right over left unable to find a
comfortable position but you know it has little to do with the bench and
everything to do with the reason you’re here.
Minutes tick by slowly, each shift of the clock hand feeding
into your anxiety. Will he even show up?
Each tinkle of the bell above the diner door draws your
attention to it. If you continue moving your head so fast you’re liable to get
whiplash, but every time you’re met with disappointment when the one you’re
waiting for doesn’t appear.
Five then ten minutes past your designated meeting time
passes and you’re shifting around again.
“Anything I can get you while you’re waiting?” asks the
waitress, pen poised to her pad.
“No thank you, not really hungry,” you answer, apology
implied in your tone.
She shrugs her shoulders, moving on to tend on customers
with aspirations of grease and sugar consumption.
Glancing at the clock you find he’s almost twenty minutes
late but you’re not mad. You’re not even surprised to be honest. Why would he
even want-
Your thoughts are cut off as a presence takes residence
across your table capturing your attention immediately. A startled hitch in
your breath is the first thing which greets the man now seated opposite of you.
“Go-good evening, Ushijima-san.” The use of his last name
casts a bitter taste in your mouth but you dare not use his first; you lost
that privilege a long time ago. His face, if possible, is more impassive that
ever but you can’t blame him. Silence reigns supreme, the two of you just
looking at each other. It’s broken by the arrival of your long-suffering
waitress asking if she can get anything for him. He asks for water and she
moves away to gather the requested beverage.
“So, how are things? How’s your family?” you ask forcing
geniality into your tone.
He shrugs, nodding thanks to the waitress when she drops off
the water. He sips it, eyes never leaving your face and the severity of his
scrutiny makes you twitch.
“I heard about the battle for nationals,” you can’t help
saying. “Sorry,” you add quickly, unclear if you’re apologizing for their loss
or bringing it up at all. Ushijima doesn’t bother with a response. “So, have
you thought about college?”
“_______-san, why are you here?”
Ushijima’s voice is just as you remember it; steady, calm,
seemingly indifferent but you can see a torrent of well withheld emotion
stirring up in his eyes. Seems even he’s incapable of remaining as stoic as a
mountain all the time.
You swallow once, wishing you’d had the foresight to ask for
water as well because suddenly your mouth feels like it’s full of sand.
Ushijima, being the gentleman he is, proffers his glass which you take thankfully.
After gulping a draft of the cool liquid, you clear your throat.
“I…I guess I should just come right out with it.” Your eyes
meet his. “Ushijima…Wakatoshi, I…I miss you. I miss you so much and I realize
what a stupid mistake I made letting you go and I’m so sorry for hurting you
like that. I wanted to see…I mean…is there any way you can forgive me?”
Ushijima’s jaw clenches in discomfort at your words. He
sighs, closing his eyes. When he opens them again, you can see it clearly; this
is very much too little too late.
“I have forgiven you, _______-san,” he confirms, “But if
you’re seeking reconciliation, that isn’t going to happen. I may have forgiven
you, but I can never forget what you did.”
His words pierce your heart like a knife but you know it’s
so much less than what you deserve. You broke his heart; his precious,
carefully guarded heart that he opens to so few and you’d gone and stomped on
it. All because of stupid, petty jealousy and fear.
Standing, you offer a slight bow, tears trailing down your
cheeks despite your best effort to hold them back. “I appreciate you meeting
with me at all and I understand your decision. Just know that…I do love you and
if you ever change your mind-“
“I won’t so don’t do something stupid like say you’ll wait
for me. I wish you all the best, ______-san,” he interjects gruffly.
More pain hits and it’s suddenly harder to breathe but
somehow you manage to inhale then exhale. Getting your legs to work takes a
moment longer but soon enough your back in the heat of the summer, but your mind
is months in the past remembering that fateful December day where you’d let the
worst of yourself throw away the best thing to have ever happened to you.
Bless this sweet second year! I don’t read the manga so I’m hoping to see more of him in the coming seasons of Haikyuu!! Thank you for requesting and thank you for the love! I’m always so happy to hear when people enjoy my work. I hope you enjoy!
Kinoshita Hisashi
“It hurts,” you whine, curling up into a tighter
fetal position on the couch, eyes squeezed shut.
“I know babe,” Kinoshita says rubbing your arm.
“How can you know? You don’t have a uterus trying to
kill you!”
He flinches slightly at your harsh tone but the next second
you’re crying. “I’m sorry, Hisashi-kun, it’s just, my emotions are all
over the place right now. I understand if you don’t want to be around me.”
While the temptation to run is high, mainly because Kinoshita
doesn’t know what to do, he knows you need him, so he’ll put up with your mood
swings.
“There’s nowhere I’d rather be,” he murmurs
against your hair, pecking the crown of your head lightly. “I’ll get you
something to eat,” he adds standing upright. Looking down in your eyes he
asks, “What would you like?”
An unexpected flush erupts across your cheeks; you’re a bit
embarrassed by how much you pack away when you’re hormonal. He sees the crimson
stain of your skin and smiles warmly. “No judgement, just tell me what you
want,” he says softly.
“Um, well, pretty much anything that’s probably bad for me,”
you admit sheepishly pulling a slight chuckle from his lips.
“Ok bashful,” he teases lightly, “I’ll bring you some junk
food.”
He throws on his jacket, blowing a kiss to you before
striding out the door. Twenty minutes later he returns, one hand clenching a
fresh pizza, its scent sending your olfactory nerves to nirvana as moisture erupts
in your mouth at the tantalizing prospect of greasy cheese and pepperoni. In
his other hand are two plastic bags loaded to the brim with soda, chocolate in
various forms and, you think, your favorite flavor of ice cream. Hisashi sends
you a wink before ducking into the kitchen to prepare you a plate.
Another five minutes of waiting, rather impatiently if you’re
honest but you bite your tongue because he’s being so sweet to you, results in
a plate of piping hot pizza, a tall glass of your favorite soda and a candy bar
for dessert. To top it all off, he’s brought you some extra strength pain
killer.
Not only that, he’s brought a heating pad to combat your
killer cramps. Propping you up with pillows behind your back, he gentle places
the warmth against your stomach.
One you’re settled, he pops in your favorite romantic
comedy, the one that makes you laugh till tears come from your eyes, after
which he sits at the other end of the couch near your feet, his own plate of
food in his hands.
Together you watch the movie, and you’re laughing as much as
the pain in your stomach will allow but the endorphins are working as you
barely feel the crushing pain of your contracting reproductive organs.
Looking down the couch at Hisashi, you smile warmly. He catches
the look, blushing a little under the scrutiny of your gaze.
“What?” he asks, eyes averting back to the screen.
“Nothing, just thinking how lucky I am to have you,” you
reply before also returning your attention to the images flickering on the
screen.
As your food hits bottom, you feel your eyelids begin to
weigh heavy, glancing blows of your eyelashes hitting the line below your eyes.
You snuggle deeper into the couch, feet draped over Hisashi’s legs which be
begins rubbing after wiping his hands on the plentiful number of napkins needed
for the pizza.
You sigh in contentment, allowing your eyes to close as the
gentle pressure of Hisashi’s attention to your swollen joints and the
satisfaction of a full belly lull you into a finally peaceful sleep.
Thank you for asking! Feel free to send in another, I don’t mind with these to get multiple requests!
Kenma Impressions
First impression: When
I first saw him I thought, ok, shy boy, awkward, but he’s obviously going to be somebody cause why would Hinata meet
him like this? Then we see him at the practice match and I was like “Oh no, he’s
gonna be one of those crafty, quiet types.” Which of course he is, figuring out
the quick and such.
Impression now: I
love how he’s coming out of his shell just a tiny bit. I’m looking forward to
more interactions between him and Hinata. After watching the Nekoma OVA, I
really love how dramatic he is lol. Like, it’s so long suffering to be dealing
with Lev (which I’m sure it is to be honest) and his sarcasm is just so funny.
Favorite moment: When
he tells Hinata that he looks forward to playing them in a real match. Just the
fact that he’s thinking it and hoping/knowing it will happen and that he wants it, he cares about it in a
different way than he ever has anything else to with volleyball.
Idea for a story: I’d
love to see a story showing how he and Kuroo even met in the first place. Like,
I see that they lived close to each other but how did they meet? Did their mom’s force them to play together? Did
Kuroo just randomly start talking to him? What prompted that friendship to even
start?
Unpopular opinion: This
will probably be the same answer for any character who’s in a major ship. I don’t
ship the boys together other than in broships.
Favorite relationship: Him
and Hinata. I love how Hinata draws him out in a way Kuroo isn’t able to
because Hinata is very unexpected and vioatile. There’s so much history between
Kuroo and Kenma that Kenma can kind of ignore his attempts, but with Hinata it’s
all natural, he has no ulterior motive or motivation to make Kenma do anything
so for him to be able to get him more interested in volleyball on a different
level is amazing. I love that they text each other!
Favorite headcanon: That
he is a grade A cuddler; like he has so much skill for wrapping himself around
or next to his girlfriend (whenever he gets one) and can do so comfortably even
while playing his hand held while she’s probably on hers lol.
Awww! Thank you so much! I’m so sorry this took me forever to finish but I hope you like it!
Akaashi – Kisses #16, #21 and #40
16 – following the kiss with a series of kisses up to suckle
an earlobe
21 – softly moaning into the kiss
40 – when one person says “move away if you don’t want this”
and the other person moves in for the kiss
“Come on Akaashi-senpai! We need to get good seats!” you
yell excitedly.
The setter smiles gently. “You realize every seat is a good one when there’s fireworks involved, right?”
he asks following you up the grassy noll.
You stick out your tongue at him, the motion making him
stumble a bit but he’s thankful you don’t notice; you’re too busy turning
around again to scope the perfect spot. He sighs in frustration with himself.
When is this infatuation with you going to end?
“Probably never,”
he thinks as you cry out in triumph, finding the, you insist, the best
placement to get maximum viewing pleasure.
Settling down next to you on the blanket, Akaashi thinks
over the past year since he met you. You’re a first-year soccer player whose
academic prowess impressed even him. He’d met you while jogging in the park,
the two of you becoming support beams for your evening ritual. Eventually,
running wasn’t the only thing you were doing together. You studied, went to
movies, he went to your games and you to his, all of which has resulted in
Bokuto continuously harping on him to “make a move”.
He’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t hear you until
you’re right next to his ear. “Akaashi-senpai?”
He whips around, startled by how close your face is to his.
Your eyes widen for a second before you look at his lips and then back to his
eyes; he can see you debating whether to move forward. Akaashi’s pulse feels
like a thrumming against his skin and he’s afraid to breathe lest he break this
moment. Then, with deliberate slowness, you inch your head closer to his, your
eyes becoming slightly hooded.
He feels the ghost of your breath over his lips as you say, “Akaashi-senpai,
I…um…please, move away if you don’t want this.” Akaashi inhales deeply through
his nose then closes the distance, settling his lips against yours.
His hand reaches into your hair, grasping firmly but not too
tight, just enough to keep you right where you are and he moans softly into the
kiss, your answering moan flooding his body with heat. Before he can stop
himself, he trails kisses on your jawline. When he reaches your ear, he suckles
the lobe, your grip on his jacket tightening as you inhale sharply.
Just as he’s about to continue to your neck, the first wave
of fireworks explodes overhead, jarring you both out of your kiss haze and
bringing you back to the reality that you were basically making out in the
middle of the New Year’s Eve crowd.
Thankfully, everyone’s eyes on are the sky, though you both
still sport deep blushes.
Leaning forward again, Akaashi pecks your lips, murmuring
against them, “Happy New Year, y/n.”
“It is indeed, Keiji-kun” you answer back, intertwining your
hands as you both look up.
Ok, I have no idea if this is what you were hoping for
because it’s kind of open ended but nevertheless I hope you enjoy! WARNING
mention of deaths for beloved characters (briefly but still fair warning). Nothing
overtly graphic.
The incessant banging on the gym door should have been a
clue that all is not right. Casting a glance at Kuroo, the tall bed head
captain being the last to leave with you after practice, you stride to the door
and open it. Standing before you is Yamamoto, his head hung, grasping the
side of the building.
“Yamamoto-san?” you ask reaching forward to touch him but
when he whips his head up you scream.
The sound of your terror draws Kuroo’s attention back to
you, his eyes widening as he watches you back away from the second-year ace. He
can see, even from this distance, something is terribly wrong. Yamamoto is
grunting, his voice a dry heave of sound and his neck…his neck has a huge gash
in it, blood trailing down.
As he reaches for you, Kuroo acts on instinct, tossing up a
ball and spiking it perfectly into his head making him fall over temporarily.
The impact makes you scream again but it does its job of
snapping you out of the horror haze his dead eyes held you in though you’re
still just standing there. In front of you, Kuroo can see more students, along
with some faculty, walking towards your location. It’s like all his wildest
nightmares coming true and he’s in fight or flight mode.
Surging forward, he shoves Yamamoto, or at least what used to be him, back into the courtyard,
slamming the door and bolting it. The pounding on the door echoes through the
large empty room and you cover your ears, crouching down to drown out the
sound, murmuring, “No, no, no…this isn’t real…wake up…wake up…wake up!” You’re
screaming the words now, overrun with panic but it all comes to a grinding halt
when you feel a sharp sting against your cheek.
Turning your face back to Kuroo, you can see he’s still got
his hand cross his body from slapping you. He drops to his knees, grabbing your
face between his hands and kisses your forehead swiftly. “I’m sorry, but you
can’t panic right now, we need to get to safety,” he says. Quickly, he stands
again, grabbing your hand and yanking you towards the door that leads to the
storage room where a ladder to the roof access point resides.
Grabbing his phone, Kuroo selects Kenma’s number.
“Kenma, where are you?”
“On the train, why?” asks the setter.
Briefly Kuroo recounts what happens and the noises he can
still hear outside as he shimmies up the ladder, pushing with all his might to
open the locked door. Casting a glance at you, he moves the phone away from his
ear to ask, “Do you have the key?”
“The key to what?” he hears Kenma ask as you shake your head
and he goes back to the conversation.
“Not you, y/n and I are trying to get to the roof. Don’t get
off the train, tell the engineer not to stop and just get the fuck out of here.
Something bad is going down and it’s only going to get worse.”
“Stop joking around Kuroo,” Kenma dead pans but winces when
Kuroo shouts in the phone.
“Do I sound like I’m fucking joking?”
“Well, yeah, because you usually do,” he replies.
“Here, talk to y/n while I try to get this damn door open,
maybe she can convince you.”
You take the phone, your shaky voice affirming everything
Kuroo just said to Kenma. But as you’re talking you hear the train call its
next stop, the doors opening and loud screams coming from all around Kenma.
“What the hel-“you hear then he shouts, his voice louder
than you’ve ever heard it.
“Kenma? Kenma?” you yell but it’s no use, in his haste to
get away from whatever is happening he must have dropped his phone because all
you can hear is a cacophony of noise consisting of shrieks of terror, a low
rumbling and curses from people as they are attacked.
You feel your stomach lurch when Kenma’s voice comes through
the fray, screaming out that he’s sorry and that he loves you both. The line
goes dead and you throw up into the mop pail. From above you hear Kuroo
breathing hard, both in exertion and emotion, knowing that you were an auditory
witness to his best friend’s death.
Finally, the door snaps open, a cool rush of night air
descending. Reaching down, Kuroo hauls you up the ladder, pulling you onto the
roof with him.
All around you can see others who have done the same, barricading
themselves on the roofs until some sort of help arrives; presuming any can. Kuroo
pulls the ladder up, dropping it to the ground and slams the door shut. With a
moment to breathe, to think, he collapses to his knees, screaming out in agony
at the loss of his friends and most likely his family. He’s seen the movies,
knows the odds and they aren’t good.
Kneeling beside him, you touch his back, startled when he
draws you into a fierce hug, face buried in your neck as you both cry. How can
any of this be real? Sniffling, Kuroo looks up, wiping his face on his shirt, a
new grim determination setting in his eyes.
“We’re going to survive, y/n,” he says lowly, hand cupping
your face. Overcome with emotion, he kisses you, whispering against your lips, “I
hate that it takes this for me to tell you I love you. How fucking cliche is that?
But it’s true and I’m not gonna let us die.”
You believe him, despite the sounds of screams surrounding
you, despite the very likelihood that you’re going to die on this roof top if
you can’t get food or water; you believe him. Because you have to believe in
something and the scheming captain is your best bet.
Clutching his shirt, you look in his eyes. “I know you won’t
and…I love you too.”
The distant sound of helicopters draws both your attention to
the sky and a flicker of hope arises in your heart; for now, you can get away
from here and everything else…you’ll just have to wait and see.
Don’t be sorry! I love getting requests and I’m beyond pleased to be able to write in such a way that touches your heart so much. I love you too and thank you for the cookie hearts! Thanks for requesting our dear sensei, he really doesn’t get enough love so I’m glad to provide it!
Ittetsu Takeda – Prompt #58 – “I’ve been in love with you my
entire life. Ever since the day I first met you.”
“Takeda-san? It’s so
nice to meet you, I’m ____ , ______.” He’d never met someone so immediately
friendly and welcoming.
“Takeda-san! Let’s
play house! You be the dad and I’ll be the mom!” Ittetsu blushed furiously but
couldn’t deny you anything so agreed to the embarrassing game despite the rest
of the neighborhood boys teasing him.
“Let’s sit next to
each other on the bus, Takeda-san. I always feel better when you’re close by.”
Words spoken so innocently yet they filled the bespectacled boy’s heart with
pride. Now if only he felt brave enough to tell you how he felt. But, he
reasoned, I have three years, surely before then…
“Can you believe it,
Takeda-san? I got into my dream school! I’m going to America!” Your news
shattered his heart that day but he smiled as brightly as possible, allowing
himself a little bit longer hug to “celebrate”. Now he couldn’t tell you how he felt.
Ittetsu’s hands shook
reading the invitation. A part of him he’d rather not focus on was glad he’d
have to decline; he just couldn’t afford the time or money to go to America for
your wedding. But he made sure to buy one of the more expensive items on your registry,
reasoning he was making up for all the birthdays and holidays he missed sending
you anything.
The day of your
wedding, Takeda-sensei is throwing himself more into work and trying to help at
practice with the boys more to distract himself. This was it, a lifetime’s
amount of love wasted because he was too chicken to ever tell you how he felt.
These memories come flooding back the moment Takeda lays
eyes on you. He’d no idea you’d returned to Japan, much less that you’d be working
at the same school as him. Stepping out of his haze, his hand reaches forward
of its own accord, his voice asking, “_____-san?” as he touches your shoulder.
Turning, your eyes go wide at the sight of your childhood
best friend. For a moment, you’re frozen but then forgetting where you are
spring into his arms, hugging him tightly. Your fellow teachers either scoff or
snicker at the very public display of affection between two people who they,
until a few seconds ago, presumed were strangers.
Stammering in shock and slight embarrassment, Takeda pulls
back to look at your face, forcing his hands to release your arms. “What are
you doing here?” he asks bewildered.
“I came back!” you say cheerfully, eyes shining.
There’s not really time to get the whole story, not when
both of you have classes to teach but Takeda gets enough of his wits about him
to acquire your phone number, promising to call at the end of the work day so
you can make plans to catch up.
The day seems to crawl from that point on but eventually its
duties are done and Takeda is nervously dialing your number.
“Hello?” your soft
voice says.
“Hello, _____-san, it’s
Takeda. I wanted to see if you’d still like to get together tonight?”
Your enthusiastic affirmative response makes him smile but
it drops away when you add, “I’m so
excited for you to meet Paul!” It takes him a second to realize you’re
talking about your husband. Feigning his own enthusiasm, Takeda suggests a
simple dinner at a small café in town. Agreeing you get the location from him
and ring off, saying you can’t wait to see him. Hanging up from the call, he
lets out a long sigh. What else did he expect? Of course you would bring your
husband!
Later that evening, Takeda arrives a little early, getting a
table for three near the back for privacy. Not too long after he’s situated you
arrive, pulling behind you a tall, imposing looking man. How in the world did
you end up with someone so…serious?
Standing, Takeda bows his greeting, then extends his hand. “Good
evening, you must be Paul, I’m Takeda Ittetsu, it’s very nice to finally meet
you,” he offers. Paul shakes his hand firmly, murmuring a similar sentiment but
the Japanese teacher can tell he’s just saying what’s expected of him. Which he
can’t exactly fault him for, since Takeda is doing the same thing.
As you settle into your seat, you and Takeda begin talking,
catching up on all the years of events and happenings since you last saw each
other. You’d tried to stay in contact after you left for America but both of
you had fallen short on your promise to stay best friends forever. However, as
he sits reminiscing with you and laughing, Takeda feels like no time has gone
by at all. Which is both great and awful, because he feels his long-buried
feelings for you bubbling to the surface.
Across the table, he can see out of the corner of his eye
Paul sitting back, arms crossed with a scowl on his face and wonders again how
someone as bright and loving as you could be tied to someone so obviously
negative.
To your credit, you’re trying to draw him into the
conversation but Paul isn’t making it easy, offering one word answers or grunts
in response to your questions or requests for opinions. Takeda works hard not
to frown at the man but it’s getting increasingly difficult. He keeps his focus
on you, your eyes, your face, the lovely lilt of your laughter, all of it
pushing his heart more into a blender.
Suddenly, in the middle of his story about Hinata and
Kageyama’s fight, Paul leans his forearm on the table, other arm wrapping
around your waist as he says bluntly, “You know, I finally figured you out. You’re
in love with my wife, aren’t you?”
It’s so unexpected that both you and Takeda sit staring with
wide eyes and slightly gapping mouths.
You’re the first to recover, smacking Paul’s arm, tone split
between incredulity and embarrassment, “What are you talking about Paul?
Takeda-san and I are just friends!” Your emphasis on the word “friends” causes
Ittetsu to flinch, an action not missed by the hyper aware husband.
“Ha, friends my ass, he wants you so much and you’re just
feeding him, the poor bastard,” he goes on.
Now your tone is angry as you reply, “Paul, stop it! This is
not the time or the place or the person to be jealous of!”
Your words make Takeda believe this isn’t the first time
Paul has accused someone of being interested in his wife but he oddly hopes it’s
the first time he’s been right.
You’re going on but Paul cuts you off, “Are you really so
stupid as to not see when someone wants you? Or do you just not care and like to
lead them on and piss me off by playing dumb?”
Clenching his firsts, Takeda stands up, slamming them on the
table. “That’s enough!” he says firmly, drawing your gaze away from your
husband to his face. Paul’s expression is smug satisfaction. Looking at you,
Takeda takes a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, _____-san, but I won’t say it’s not
true. I’ve been lying to you for so long but I won’t lie anymore. I’ve been in love with you my entire life.
Ever since the first day I met you.” He glances back at Paul, eyes
hardening, “You don’t deserve her and how she ended up with someone so arrogant
and selfish I’ll never know.”
Throwing down some money, he steps away from the table.
Bowing low to you he says, “My apologies, ______-san, but I’ll be going now. It
was lovely to see you again.”
Walking purposefully, other patrons’ eyes following him,
Takeda makes it outside before his entire body starts shaking. How could he do
that? It’s obvious Paul has jealousy issues and now any problems in your marriage
resulting from them are just going to get worse because the two of you work
together and-
“Takeda-san?”
Ittetsu whirls around at the sound of your voice, eyes
widening at your face drenched in tears. He doesn’t hesitate, surging forward
and gathering you in his arms. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers in your hair.
“Don’t be,” you hiccup, pulling back to look at him. “Things
have been going downhill with Paul for a while now. He…he cheated on me and
even though we’ve been going to counseling he keeps waiting for me to retaliate
by cheating on him. So any man who shows even the remotest interest in me,
whether I’m aware of it or not, he harps on. I had hoped coming to Japan would
help, you know, like a fresh start?”
You shake your head, more tears falling which Takeda thumbs
away. When had he moved his hands to your face? But you don’t seem to mind, leaning
into his touch. “Tonight was just the last straw. He…he’s going back to America
to file for the divorce.”
“Oh, ______-san, I’m so sorry,” Takeda says and he means it.
He may not like Paul but he can see this is hurting you badly.
“It…it wasn’t all bad, you know?” you choke out, fresh tears
pouring down. “We…we were really happy for a while. But I wasn’t enough…I tried
so hard…but I’m not enough.”
Takeda leans down, pressing his lips to your forehead before
murmuring against your skin, “You are more
than enough, you’re perfect.”
Sighing, you wrap your arms around his waist, face nuzzling
into his chest. Takeda almost stops breathing at the action but pulls you
closer. You stay like that for a few moments before drawing back, arms still
gripping one another’s.
“Takeda-san, I…I don’t know if…if you’re willing to wait
but-“
His finger covers your lips, eyes focused on yours. Smiling
he says, “I’ve already waited my whole life, a little bit longer is nothing.”
Akaashi: You hadn’t
meant to fall asleep at Akaashi’s house, and on his bed no less, but the marathon
study session had done you in. To your surprise, he’s next to you, still asleep
and rolled as far against the wall as possible, ever the gentleman. Feeling
guilty for making him stay in that position all night, you roll quietly away,
trying to get up without waking him. A hand on your wrist startles you. “It’s
still early, you don’t have to go,” his sleepy voice says, eyes barely open. As
you settle back down he asks, “Would it be ok if I held you?” You nod and he
moves away from the wall, curling into your warmth.
Oikawa: After the loss
to Karasuno, Oikawa is much more clingy than usual, begging for his ____-chan
to hold him. Neither of you had count on falling asleep. As his usual early
alarm sounds you both bolt awake. Silencing the offending mechanism, Oikawa
groans, arm covering his eyes, and you’re concerned it’s because he found you
still in his bed. “Do you want me to leave, Tooru?” you ask softly. He whips
his head towards you. “Of course not!” Pulling you back down and properly
encasing you in the covers he murmurs in your hair, “This morning is only good because
you’re here.”
Kenma: Both being avid
gamers, it shouldn’t have surprised anyone that you and Kenma would fall asleep
while binge playing the newest RPG. You wake up, blushing profusely when Kenma’s
sleeping visage comes into view, a startled squeak escaping your lips making
him open his eyes. He blushes just as hard as you but when you move to leave,
offering apologies for making him uncomfortable, he shocks you by wrapping his
arm around your waist. “Quite the opposite,” he yawns, “I don’t think I’ve ever
slept that well.”
After further consideration, one character is fine for these requests. Apologies, sometimes admins have their brains too full to still function properly. You’re a doll and thank you for asking for this salty boy!
Tsukishima Kei – Imagine Prompt #7 – Exercise
Having a high metabolism, Tsukishima never needed to
exercise frequently and until joining Karasuno’s volleyball team didn’t really
bother with it. He barely bothered with it even then, saving his energy for
when he was forced to run, practice
or do punishments for losing practice matches. It isn’t until after his
confrontation with Yamaguchi and starting to practice on his own that he
realizes he needs to up his personal routine. Now he looks up specialized
exercises for his fingers, hands, ankles and feet. Occasionally he adds in
weight training for general strength improvement, but narrows his focus and
efforts to enhancing the portions of his body most used during his role as
middle blocker.
Oh my dear Sunshine, thank you so much for this request and your
sweet words. I hope this makes your day a bit brighter!
Koutarou Bokuto
#7: running their thumb over the other’s lips
#8: when they lean forward a fraction as if to kiss the other
person, then realize they shouldn’t and pull back to stop themselves
#14: a hoarse whisper “kiss me”
“If you keep staring at her, I’m going to peg you on the
next serve,” Akaashi warns Bokuto.
“But Akaaaashii,” whines the ace, “she’s so pretty! I mean,
how can I not look at her?”
“Do it on your own time, we need to practice,” the setter
returns evenly.
However, even scolding from his best friend can’t fully deter
the ace from stealing glances in your direction. Ever since you joined as the
team’s manager this year, his large eyes frequently found themselves glued to
you. Either you were completely oblivious or simply ignored his attention
because you never seemed to notice.
It was late, practice having run long in preparation for
Nationals, but Bokuto was still at it, practicing spike, after spike after
spike until Akaashi finally told him enough was enough.
“My finger tips are getting numb Bokuto and you need to rest
too. We’ll pick it back up tomorrow,” he said, grabbing his bag and walking out
of the gym ignoring the protests of the ace.
“Damn it,” he says grabbing a towel and wiping his brow. He
knows Akaashi is right but he needs to be perfect, needs to have everything dialed
in. He’s pent up and excited, eager for next week when the games officially
begin. The sound of squeaking wheels draws his attention away from his own
plight and he sees you wheeling the ball cart out. Silently, you begin picking up
the balls, walking back and forth across the gym to gather the mess he and
Akaashi made.
Feeling guilty as he realizes this is not the first time
this happened, he makes his way to the other side of the net.
“You did really well today Bokuto-san,” you say with a soft
smile, the one that makes his heart jump higher than Hinata.
He grins. “Hey, hey, hey! Of course, I did, I’m the ace
after all,” he bellows making you giggle.
To everyone else, Bokuto’s behavior can be rather annoying but
you think he’s cute. And it’s not like he doesn’t have reason to be proud; he’s
really that good. You just wish he could keep a handle on the swing of his
emotions, not so much for your sake but for his own.
Bending down, Bokuto picks up a few of the volleyballs,
easily tossing them into the cart. With his help, the task is finished in half
the time.
“Thanks, but you didn’t have to do that,” you say, a
slightly blush to your cheeks. “I know you must be exhausted,” you add.
“Nah, I’m fine, plus, it’s my fault you stayed late in the
first place,” he says a little quieter than normal. He follows as you wheel the
cart into the storage room. Once inside, he watches as you fold the towels just
brought back from the laundry, their clean scent rather refreshing in the
enclosed space. Deciding he wants to spend more time with you one on one,
Bokuto grabs a towel himself, trying to fold it.
Seeing how poorly he’s doing, you giggle again taking the
fluffy material from his hands, the graze of your fingers against his making
his pulse race. “You’d think you’d never done laundry before,” you tease
correctly folding then placing the towel on the shelf.
Sheepishly, he rubs the back of his head. “Well, I kinda don’t,
my mom tried to get me to but one time of me ruining a whole load of whites by
turning them grey made her banish me from all laundry duty.”
You laugh out loud, partially spitting out some of the water
you’d just taken a sip of. Without thinking, Bokuto trails his thumb over your
lips to wipe away the excess water, the action and touch drawing a slight gasp
from you. Leaving his hand on your cheek, he leans forward, entranced by how
soft your lips feel. When he realizes what he’s doing, Bokuto draws back again
but your hand grasping his free one stops all motion.
Looking into your eyes, he can’t believe it when you whisper
hoarsely, “Kiss me.”
He doesn’t hesitate, mouth covering yours with his own, and
both hands wrapping into your hair. He can taste your coconut lip gloss when
his tongue grazes your bottom lip. He’s surprised when you open up to him
easily, tongue moving out to meet his, the connection making him moan lowly.
Bokuto wonders if maybe he’s dreaming especially when your
hands wander under the back of his shirt, finger nails lightly scratching his
skin. His own hands trail the edge of yours, thumbs drawing little circles
against your flesh.
Things are escalating quickly, a bit too much, so you both
pull away heaving heavy breaths.
“Sorry,” you both say at the same time but then laugh.
“I mean, I’m not sorry for kissing you,” Bokuto says
quickly, grasping your hands.
You smile. “I know, me either.”
“Y/N, would you…would you consider going out with me?” You’ve
never heard Bokuto speak so softly.
Leaning up, you kiss him gently. “If you couldn’t tell after
that kiss how much I like you, you really are a simpleton.” You laugh when he
pouts, pecking your lips against his protruding lips. “Of course I’ll go out
with you silly.” Your answer drives away his gloom instantly, your own lips
widening in a big smile when he lifts you into a giant bear hug.
I hope you enjoy this! It’s a bit of a troupe, I know but I was struggling with a good scenario so I hope you like it! Also, thank you for the well wishes of a nice day, I hope yours is and was good. 😀
Tooru Oikawa – Kissing Prompt #12 – Accidently being forced
inches apart from each other, staring at each other’s lips, and just before
they kiss someone pulls them back apart.
“Oh, _____-chan, yoohooo!” Oikawa calls your name. You
pretend not to hear him, intent on having a good time without interference from
him. What is he even doing here? He
hates these types of parties which is the only reason you agreed to come in the
first place; you were sure he’d never show up. How he can act so nonchalant
grates on your nerves.
The setter can see you’ve heard him, the wince of your
shoulders a dead giveaway which sends a tremor of sadness to his own heart. Apparently,
you’re serious about the whole “not talking to him ever again” thing. He
understands, mostly, but he’s determined to try again, determined to show you
he can be better.
Reaching you, he touches your shoulder. Turning you fix him
with an annoyed look. “What Oikawa?” you ask unkindly.
Keeping a faux smile on his face he asks gently, “Can I talk
to you for a minute?” When you don’t move away from your group he adds,
“Alone?”
“And if I say no?” you ask sipping your drink.
“Then I’ll just hang around you all night until you give
in,” he half jokes shrugging his shoulders.
You glare at him; he’s stubborn enough to do it too. You’re
sure if you really wanted to, you could get rid of him, but he’ll just try
again another time so it’s best to nip this in the bud now. Casting a look at
your friends, you huff dramatically and go up the stairs, Tooru
following in your wake.
Once you’re out of the main room, the noise dies down
considerably, once loud voices becoming a dull murmur mixed with the thumping
beat of whatever dance craze music is playing. Rounding another corner, you
stop next to a window, looking out of it.
Oikawa observes you, taking in your body language, the
expression on your face (at least what he can see of it) letting him know you
are in no way going to make this easy. Taking a deep breath, he says,
“______-chan, I never meant to hurt you. You should know me better than that.”
Unable to keep yourself from speaking, you whip around, eyes
blazing. “And you should know better than to continuously flirt with everything
that has an XX chromosome when you have, or rather had, a girlfriend! I mean, come on, Tooru!”
Seized with his own irritation, Oikawa loses his polite
façade, eyes narrowing and a slight scowl erupting over his face. “Well it
would have helped if you’d let me know how you were feeling instead of bottling
everything up and then just erupting one day in the middle of the quad! Do you
know how embarrassed I was? How much crap I took for that?”
“No less than you deserve,” you say heatedly, “and don’t act
like you didn’t know! How could you not see what that was doing to me?”
“Because I’m not a mind reader!” he shouts. “I can’t be
expected to pick up on every little nuance you throw out! If you were upset, you
should have told me!”
“I never should have been put into the position to need to tell you Tooru!”
Fed up with his arrogance and the loop de loop this
conversation is headed towards, you move to go around him but a misstep on the
carpet has you cannoning into him instead, the impact jolting both you from
your equilibrium. Reacting quickly, Tooru wraps his arm
around your waist, rotating on the ball of his foot to spin you back around. He
hits the wall harder than he meant to but it’s better him than you; plus,
counteracting gravity is no easy feat.
Pressed together, both of you look into each other’s eyes,
breaths mingling in panting exhales. Tooru’s eyes flick to
your lips, remaining there. You smell like cinnamon and he wants nothing more
than to kiss you senseless. You’re watching his lips too, unclear how you went
from raging mad to on the cusp of kissing your ex-boyfriend.
Tooru’s heart is racing. Maybe if he just
kisses you, he could remind you through actions how much he cares about you
since words obviously aren’t working.
He leans forward, lips about to brush against yours, when you’re
wrenched backwards out of his arms.
He looks up and sees your best friend glaring daggers at
him, her hand firmly clutching the back of your jacket. “I knew it was a bad
idea to let you go off alone together,” she says with irritation. Pulling you
along she continues, “Come on, we’re leaving. The company here is nauseating.”
Behind you, a frustrated sound between a whine and a groan
leaves Tooru’s lips; lips that still ache to taste yours. Because
for as much as you drive him crazy, you drive him wild too and he wants you
back. With a determined look, he rights himself. This isn’t over yet.
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