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livthelazywriter · 1 year

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Romeo, Romeo (Bradley Bradshaw x fem!reader)

Summary: Bradley was in love with you. You had no idea about his feelings. The whole squad knew this. So why did they think it was a good idea to let him near you when he was drunk?

Warnings: fluff, Bradley's drunk shenanigans, boy's whipped, walking embodiment of the heart eyes emoji, swearing, drunk flirting, he says some sexual things but there's zero smut or anything even remotely smutty in this which is a first.

A/N: Finally finished this little something, while I'm writing my 40 other wips and series. I hate myself sometimes. I'm trynna stack up so I have things to post whilst going to Paris.

Reminder to change your content preferences so you can see smut even when our fics get community labels :).

Wordcount: 3.2K

Bradley Bradshaw was head over heels for you from the moment he met you.

You were pretty and smart, you smelled so nice and you always called him handsome, which made him blush sometimes, but he loved it nonetheless.

You brought him coffee and baked him muffins, laughed at his dumb jokes, let him vent to you when he needed someone to listen and you gave the best hugs.

You also kissed his cheek and his heart always stopped beating for a second, before speeding up, and even when he stumbled over his words in your presence, you didn't mind.

He couldn't stop talking about you. Everyone knew about his feelings by now, except one person; you.

So, yes. Bradley Bradshaw was in love with you. He was also totally hammered.

His cheeks were pink, face flushed because of the alcohol and he had a dumb, love-struck look on his face. The only thing going through his mind was 'she's so pretty' as he kept looking at you from across the room.

Jake groaned in annoyance, banging his forehead against the table. "Yes, we know. You said it at least 30 times."

Phoenix sighed, swirling the liquid in her beer bottle. Everyone else already tuned out, fed up with having to hear this every single time Rooster got drunk.

But he couldn't care less. "Need to say it at least twice as many times."

Phoenix looked at him, grimacing. "I'm getting a migraine."

Jake looked at her suddenly, realization crossing his face. "Watch this." He needed to put an end to this, if Rooster didn't have the balls to ask you out without a little nudge.

"Hey, Bradley?" he said, getting the man's attention. Or at least some of it, since he couldn't take his eyes off you. Jake rolled his eyes, but continued talking in a sweet voice. Overly sweet. "Why don't you go talk to Y/N?" he suggested, waiting for Bradley to use the one braincell he had left to do some actual thinking.

Bradley's frown was wiped from his face the second he heard your name, his eyes widening in awe. There was no stopping him after that. He was next to you in a heartbeat, scaring you slightly as he leaned on the counter next to you.

"Hi." He grinned, which looked more like a grimace, than the heart-stopping smile he thought it was. But you weren't fazed.

"Hello there, lieutenant." you said, voice deep and sultry. Bradley felt a shiver run through his whole body. He loved your voice.

He opened his mouth, before closing it again with a frown. His brain and mouth weren't working together properly as it seemed. You waited for him patiently, a small smile on your lips as you realized just how drunk he was.

He got lost in your eyes, not a thought present in his head. You were about to ask him if he needed someone to drive him home when he opened his mouth again, this time getting out some words, even though they were slurring. "You're so pretty."

He continued to admire you, your heart beating a little louder with every second. "Thank you."

Bradley sighed, his eyes scanning your body, fingertips touching the material of your dress. "I love that dress." He grinned boyishly. “But I bet you would look prettier without it.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused. Leaning closer to him, you put a hand under your jaw, mimicking him. “Are you flirting with me, Rooster?”

His grin transformed into a pout, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. He looked adorable, you couldn't help but let out a little laugh. “Why are you pouting?”

“You called me Rooster.” he grumbled like a petulant little child.

You hummed, not seeing what was wrong with it. “Mhm, that’s your callsign.”

“But I like it when you call me Bradley. It sounds so nice.”

“Okay then, Bradley.” He smiled at that, content. His body swayed lightly as he stood in one place, his head seeming too heavy for his neck to hold up. He was so tired, he wanted to climb into his soft, warm bed and sleep soundly.

"Maybe we should go get some air? Get you to sober up?" you suggested, brushing his hair away from his sweaty forehead. Bradley nodded, face lighting up like a Christmas tree. You put a hand around his torso, as he leaned into you so you were practically dragging him out of the bar. Once you were outside, he leaned against the wooden wall, a smile on his lips.

“What are you smiling about now?” You couldn't help but ask.

Bradley, as if a switch has been flipped, straightened out and looked at you seriously, closing the distance in two large steps. Taking both of your hands in his, he kneeled on the ground, almost falling over in the process. You were looking at him with wide eyes, questioning if he lost his mind.

He was looking at you, determination written all over his features. You were dreading what was coming next, although you kind of had an inkling what it was he wanted to say.

And you were sorta right.

“I want you to marry me.” Bradley said, squeezing your hands. Your mouth fell open in shock and your brain stopped working for a second.

You expected him to ask you out on a date or to be his girlfriend. That? That was definitely not where your mind went.

Boy moved fast, that was for sure.

You let out a startled laugh, not sure how to react to that proposal. You just hoped there was at least a little bit of honesty in his question statement and that it wasn't all just drunk talk.

Bradley took your laughing as a bad reaction and he frowned, hurt. How could you break his heart like that and then step on it without a care? “Why are you laughing at my feelings?”

Your laughter stopped and you looked at him, ready to explain yourself, when you saw the tears glistening in his eyes, making you panic.

A crying Rooster wasn't a good thing. You didn't know how to comfort people in the slightest. Especially when they were drunk. You pulled on his hands, making him stand up.

“Oh, no. Don’t cry.” you cooed, wiping away the single tear that rolled down his cheek. He leaned into your palm, rubbing his face against it like a kitten. “I wasn’t laughing about your feelings, Roo. I just think that marriage would be a bit too quick, wouldn’t it?” you chuckled lightly.

“No.” he said stubbornly, shaking his head. “I’ve loved you since we met.”

The breath was knocked out of your lungs at his admission. That was years ago.

You took in a sharp breath, caressing his cheek. "That’s a long time.” you said quietly. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Bradley opened his eyes, looking into yours so intensely, you felt your heart beat against your ribcage. “You’re too good.”

You frowned, confused. “Too good for you?”

He nodded, closing his eyes again, enjoying your touch on his face.

“Why do you think that?” you asked, curious. How could he think that you were too good for him?

He didn't answer, only pulled you closer by your waist.

The hand that wasn't holding onto you fished around in his pocket, pulling something out.

He opened a little black box, revealing a beautiful silver ring. Why did Bradley have an engagement ring?

As if reading your mind, he answered your question. “It's my mom's ring." That was entirely too much for you to handle. You were going to be sick. “I want you to have it.”

You winced, closing the box and putting it back in his pocket carefully, while explaining yourself. "Roo, I can't accept your mom's ring."

Before you could assure him that if he asked you out, you would say yes, but marriage wasn't on the table yet, he started crying again. This time, his lip wobbled slightly as he sobbed and your heart broke for him.

“You don’t want to marry me? Am I ugly?”

You thought about saying yes to the proposal and playing along, just until he sobered up enough for you to make a joke about this but decided against it. You didn't want him to feel like an even bigger idiot once he remembered everything.

You definitely didn't want to seem like you were playing with his feelings, drunk or not.

You groaned when his knees buckled slightly, as you held him up. “Okay, I’m sorry about the humiliation, but you’re too heavy for me to carry.”

“Hangman!” you shouted for your friend, Bradley apparently taking this the wrong way. He pulled away so he could look at your face, squinting.

“Hangman?” he asked, voice loud and accusatory. “You’re in love with Hangman?” he spit the name out with venom and if he wasn't entirely dependent on you right now, you would definitely run to tell Natasha about it.

You had to admit, it was kind of funny.

That's when Jake decided to show up. “What the fuck is going on here?”

You chuckled breathlessly. “Funny, that’s exactly what I wanted to ask you.”

Jake gulped when he saw that you were pissed at him, but he knew it was in everyone's best interest to let Bradley confess to you while he was like this, otherwise he would never get to it.

“He’s a pain in our ass, okay?” he groaned, throwing his hands up, exasperated. Bradley was glaring at him, and if Jake didn't know better, he would say he almost heard him growl.

“He’s drunk off his ass.” you accused.

Jake shrugged. “Does it matter?”

You whined. “Yes, because he asked me to marry him and I made him cry.”

Jake let out a laugh, which only made Bradley squint at him harder. “That’s fucking hilarious.” he wheezed, pretending to brush a tear from the corner of his eye. You gave him a deadpan look, which made him sigh and walk over to Bradley. “Come on, we’re going to drink some water.”

Jake put an arm around Bradley, helping you in pulling him back inside and making him sit on the bench. You were about to get him water, but Bradley had other plans. He caught your wrist, pulling you into his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist. You looked at Jake, who was looking at the two of you with a shit-eating grin, undoubtedly thinking about how he's going to tease Bradley once he sobered up. But since it was kinda his fault you were stuck with Bradley glued to you for the rest of the night, he got him a glass of water.

You made Bradley drink it, hoping he would get a little less clingy as he started sobering up.

“I’m tired.” he mumbled, eyes drooping from exhaustion. “I’m gonna take a nap.” He practically pushed you off his lap, before laying his head down on your thighs, stretching out his legs to his best ability.

He made a disgruntled sound when he felt his legs dangling in the air, so he decided to pull them up, a position which he would definitely regret later when his whole body would ache.

But right now, it felt like heaven. You were such a soft pillow. “Your thighs are so comfy.”

You let out a snort, unintentionally. “Good to know.”

Bradley turned his head to look at you with half-lidded eyes he could barely keep open. He had a grin on his face nonetheless. “You can sit on my face, I heard that’s a comfy place too. Just so I can return the favour.”

You shook your head, the butterflies in your stomach going wild. “Go to sleep, Bradley.”

He didn't fight you on that, closing his eyes and burying his head into your thighs. “G’night.”

You carded your fingers through his soft hair, ran your fingers down his face, soothing him to sleep.

After a while though, your whole legs started feeling numb and you were getting tired too.

You waved Jake over to you, your hand never leaving Bradleys face. “Can you take us home?” you asked, making him nod. “I will stay with him, don’t want him to throw up in his sleep or something.”

Jake smirked. “Of course, that’s the reason.”

“Fuck off.” you slapped his arm. “I won’t take advantage of a drunk person.”

But he was right. That wasn't the reason.

You hoped that once he woke up, sober, he would tell you if he really meant those things.

If he really liked you for as long as he said he did.

Getting Bradley into the car wasn't a two job person as proved by you and Jake being left breathless trying to wrestle him into the backseat.

Once he realized you were coming with him, he made grabby hands at you and whined until you sat next to him, instead of the passenger seat. You relented, climbing over the console and plopping down next to him as Jake grumbled something about putting your dirty shoes on his seats under his breath. Bradley looked at you with heart eyes, making you a tad bit uncomfortable at having his utter, undivided attention.

Not like him burying his head into your cleavage (which was apparently a mistake on his part-although you knew better than to believe that) was any better. He hugged you, clinging onto you like you were his lifeline.

You sighed, giving up, knowing that you weren't going to get him off you. Jake kept looking at the two of you from the rearview mirror, smiling as he saw you carding your fingers through Bradley's hair as he mumbled something sleepily. He couldn't wait to tell everyone about this.

The second Bradley's eyes opened, he felt the stabbiest stabbing pain in his head. He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut once again. He opened them just as quickly, when he heard noise from the kitchen.

His brain was fried and he might've drank more than he should've, because he couldn't remember shit.

Getting up was torturous. Was he banging his head against the table the whole night? That might explain everything.

On his night stand, he saw painkillers with a glass of water, instantly swallowing them.

When he opened the door, the smell of bacon and eggs filled his nose, his stomach growling hungrily.

When he saw you standing in his kitchen, humming to yourself slightly as you made breakfast, he stopped in his tracks, freezing.

You turned around to set everything on the table, jumping when you saw Rooster standing there, motionless. You tried to get your heart beat under control, as you finished preparing breakfast.

“You’re not dead yet. Good morning.” you said teasingly, smiling at his disheveled state. His hair was a mess, his shirt was on backwards and he was only wearing one sock. You tried not to look at his naked legs and fantasize too much, but it was hard, after the things he said and did yesterday.

Bradley wrecked his brain, trying to think of any embarassing things he said, and quite a few came to his mind. He winced, looking at the ground bashfully. “So it wasn’t a dream.” he said quietly.

You smiled softly. “No, it wasn’t.”

He finally looked up, facing you. “I really made a fool of myself yesterday, didn’t I?”

You shrugged, biting your bottom lip to stop the grin forming on your face. “I think it was cute.”

He let out a breath, your words calming him. So it probably wasn't as bad as he thought.

He was making judgements too early, because you didn't finish just yet. “Except the part where you asked me to marry you.”

Bradley's face whipped up so quickly you thought he would get whiplash, his eyes wide and terrified. “I did what?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yeah. You gave me your mom’s ring.” You took the beautiful jewellery off from your necklace, walking towards him to put it into his palm. “Kept it safe for you.” You cleared your throat, looking away from his face, even though he wasn't looking at you, it still felt embarassing. After Jake dropped you off and you tucked him into bed, he forced the ring on your finger. “I tried to get the box from your pocket, but you insuated I was trying to sleep with you and you weren’t really opposed to the idea.”

He groaned, ready to cry and run away. He thought it couldn't get worse. But it did. “You also cried. Do you remember that part?”

This time he looked up, humiliation clear as day on his face. “No.”

You nodded, humming. “Probably for the better.”

Bradley gave you a questioning look, wondering how bad it really was. He wasn't a sad drunk. Why did he have to cry the one time you were there?!

“You cried because I didn’t want to marry you, then because you thought I thought you were ugly and finally because you thought I was in love with Jake.”

Running a hand down his face, he already planned a quick escape route, before remembering this was his house. And he wasn't about to throw you out after you took care of him without a complaint. “Holy shit. How much did I drink?”

“A lot.”

Where were the backstabbers he called friends whilst all of this was happening? Did no one try to pull him away before he thoroughly embarrassed himself in front of you?

“Why did they let you babysit me?” he asked, voicing his thoughts out loud.

You bit your lip to stop the smile threatening to break out on your face. “Apparently it’s annoying how much you talk about me.”

“Dicks.” Bradley scoffed, offended. He didn't even talk about you that much.

But now he would. He would become so insufferable they will regret ever giving him the final push.

But he also maybe owed them.

“But can we talk about what you said?” you asked hopefully.

He sighed, clutching his head in his hands. “Which part? The one where I said I was in love with you or the one where I proposed?” he groaned. You waited patiently and in silence, letting him gather his thoughts. His shoulders slumped. “Everything I said was true. But I might've gone and done everything backwards.”

Bradley walked up to you, putting his hands on your hips hesitantly. Your eyes were bright and the fact that you didn't run off yet was a good sign. So he gathered all of his courage and asked you the question he wanted to ask ever since he met you. “Will you go on a date with me?”

You smiled softly, wrapping your hands around his neck. “If you promise you'll only propose once we'd been dating for a while.”

Rooster smiled. “Promise.“ he said, before connecting your lips with his.

He kissed you softly in the middle of his kitchen as the light poured in, stealing your breath effortlessly.

You pulled away, leaning your forehead on his and trying to catch your breath.

Your eyes sparkled when you remembered something else. "You also asked me to have your children because I would look pretty."

Bradley buried his face in your neck in embarassmentm, kissing your skin. That was definitely supposed to stay a secret. "Checks out."

Taglist: @shawnsblue @caatheeriinee07 @afterglowsb-tch13 @atarmychick007 @sometimesanalice @julesclues @lemur46 @avengersfan25 @lalalalemonade11 @classyunknownlover @letskeepthislo-ki @tghock @wildxwidow @adoringsebstan @mak-32 @t0kyoreveng3rs

Taglist is in my pinned post.

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #top gun fic #liv.reblogs<3

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livthelazywriter · 2 years

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livthelazywriter · 2 years

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so i just imagine bakugo is like the absolute king of mirror selfies. i don’t know how he does it but every single time he gets the perfect angle, the perfect lighting and of course he knows he looks perfect too.

and he does it all for you.

the most common selfie you’ll get is him infront of the gym mirror, one arm curled up to hold his phone displaying the bicep that could probably squash your head. the other is relaxed, but you can see the sheen of sweat and the bulging veins at his wrists from how hard he’s been working out.

he’s entirely shirtless, sweatpants low on his hips so you can see a peak of the black designer boxers he’s wearing beneath them. as your eyes trail up from his defined v lines, you land on his stomach. his six pack is to die for, he’s purposely tensing up just for you to see how well he keeps his body, and how it’s all for you.

and just a little higher is the man himself, smirking, as if he knows you’re actively drooling all over yourself at the sight of the man before you. he knows what he does to you, he lets you worship his body enough to know that a flash of his muscles is enough to shut your brain down. his hair is in disarray, spiked in every direction and you can just see the bead of sweat on his temple. he’s got his head slightly angled, showing off a jawline that could cut through diamond and the perfect slope of his nose, leading to eyes of burning red that are locked directly onto his phone screen as he poses for you.

he’s absolutely beautiful.

and then he’ll caption these drool-worthy pictures with something so mundane, or something entirely different like ‘miss you baby’, or ‘mapo tofu for dinner?’. he knows what he’s doing. he’s probably laughing at the fact you haven’t replied to such a simple message in over 10 minutes because you’re still ogling his body.

one of the less common pictures are of him actually on patrol, these are rare because he almost never gets a break on them to message you nevermind sending a selfie. but when he does, he’s always got the most beautiful backdrop of tokyo behind him, and he’s almost always somewhere up high on the edge of a building as he eats his lunch.

he always looks good in his hero outfit, tight-fitting and downright intimidating when he’s fully kitted out. but for you, he pushed back the eye mask so his unruly hair is pinned behind it. his gaze is softened slightly, and he’s smiling, not a big smile just a quirk of the lip to let you know he’s still okay. the caption on these images are almost always ‘can’t wait to come home sweetheart’.

ahh he’s just so beautiful :(

↳ [masterlist]

reblogs & likes appreciated!

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livthelazywriter · 2 years

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HES DOWN!

// MHA SPOILERS

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livthelazywriter · 2 years

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strawberry jam

cowboy(ish)! bakugou katsuki x fem! reader summary: This had to count as one of the worst days in your entire life — stuck on the side of the road in the hot sun in the middle of nowhere with your old, stupid, broken down car and no cell service. At least there was a super hot cowboy who stopped to help. contains: FLUFFF OMG JUST FLUFF AND LOVE word count: 11.6k (somebody sedate me pls) masterlist a/n: this is for the loml, @katxn15, for her birthday that was like, a month ago, BUT I FINALLY FINISHED OKAY IM SORRY IK I SUCK (but also, apologies to my followers, i still feel like this writing isn't my best work - but we're kicking writer's block's ass one day at a time) also, here's the strawberry jam recipe

This had to count as one of the worst days in your entire life — stuck on the side of the road in the hot sun in the middle of nowhere with your old, stupid, broken down car and no cell service.

You’d just been trying to drive back home from college for spring break, but no — the universe had decided that it was too much to ask for and decided to dump you here, on the side of the backroad (because, of course, you thought that using the backroad would be quicker to avoid the usual highway traffic; and now there were no cars passing by that could help you) in the middle of some random field on a hot spring day.

You finally gave up trying to call someone — your roommate, your parents, a friend from your hometown — after about twenty minutes, when you realized that the phone stopped ringing completely and a low battery notification popped up.

Fucking hell.

Under the hot sun of the afternoon and without the AC, the car had started to reach its boiling point, leaving it unbearable to be stuck inside even if it offered the smallest amount of shade from the blinding light above. Your water bottle was all finished now too, so you were sure if you didn’t get out, you’d die of heat stroke.

The air was sticky when you finally cracked open the driver’s door, and paired with the direct sunlight overhead you could already feel yourself turn sweaty and breathless in the heat, and yet you pushed yourself out with your phone still in hand and outstretched, trying to catch at least one minute of cell service.

For a minute you thought one bar popped up, but it was gone as soon as it came and you were left with nothing as you flung it back into the car and closed the door out of frustration.

The stupid, fucking car just had to break down in the worst place possible, out in the middle of nowhere where no one was driving by.

“Fuck!” You finally let out in frustration, grasping at your hair and pulling at it as the panic set in.

You’d been sitting in your car for about thirty minutes now, and no one had driven by in all that time.

What if you were just stuck there until you died of heatstroke — okay that was an exaggeration, but at this rate you might have to be stuck on the side of the road for hours, you might even have to sleep in your car until morning.

Your back hurt just thinking about it.

At the very least you’d be extremely dehydrated, you could already feel the energy getting sucked out of you from the sun in reverse photosynthesis — and now that you thought about it you kinda had to pee.

Scratch that, you really had to pee.

There were just miles of fields ahead and behind you, there was nowhere to go unless you wanted to just go at it right there in a bush, but there was no way you were attempting that.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” You paced around your car trying to will your bladder to stop bothering you, hoping — or praying, more like — that someone would pass by and that they could just take you to their little nearby house.

These fields had to belong to somebody, with the wheat, or whatever it was, that was being grown in bulk, there had to be someone living out there somewhere who had a bathroom that you could use.

And after what felt like an hour of waiting under the sun (though it was only about ten minutes), your prayers were finally answered when you spotted a red, old, beat-up looking pick up truck from across the distance, and the sight was enough to propel you to start waving your arms and jump around to catch their attention.

Maybe it was a nice, old farmer who was just heading to his house nearby who’d be kind enough to let you use their bathroom and phone and to help you with your car.

And that’s who you were expecting to step out when it slowed to a stop — a nice, old, friendly dude.

Except it wasn’t.

Instead, you were faced with a tall, young (your age, it looked like actually), attractive guy wearing worn-out cowboy boots, faded jeans, an orange plaid shirt, and a cowboy hat with blonde strands peeking out from underneath. And not only was he not old or a farmer, he was also scowling at you like it was your fault he’d decided to stop.

That was enough for your open mouth to snap closed in an instant, and instead of explaining your situation to him and thanking him for stopping like you were planning on doing, you stood there frozen with wide eyes, watching as he stomped towards you like he was about to yell at you for something.

You cringed away from his figure with your eyes squeezed shut in response to his expected lecture, only for them to pop open when he spoke in a soft, grumbled tone instead.

“Yer car’s broken?”

“Huh?” you blinked up at him like you’d just been squirted in the face with water.

He rolled his eyes before they rested back onto your face with that same scowl. “Is yer car broken?” he asked louder.

“Oh, yeah” you quickly turned away to point at it as you babbled dumbly. “I think it’s the engine. It’s really old so it kinda sucks now.”

“Lemme take a look,” he walked around you towards the hood of your car — and you just stood awestruck as your mind finally registered that he wasn’t about to attack you, and that he was instead looking down at the wires and stupid things in the hood of your car like any other normal, nice person would have.

Why’d he look so angry then? A super bad case of resting bitch face?

You trailed after him, watching from the sidelines as he fiddled around with stuff you didn’t understand, biting the inside of your cheek when he reached up to wipe away some sweat that was dripping down his face before he continued working.

You know, now that you thought about it, he was actually super good looking. Under the small shade from the hood of the car, you could carve out his features: red, piercing eyes, clear skin, a strong jawline.

Your roommate would be so jealous if she found out some super hot cowboy helped you with your car. It was straight out of a romance book actually. If only you hadn’t thrown your phone back in the car out of anger, you could’ve snuck a picture of him and sent it to her when you finally got cell service.

You could already imagine the look on her face if you were able to get a picture of this guy, all screwed up in anger and—

“Engine’s gone,” the cowboy’s voice came back, and you were back to being an idiot.

“What?” you blinked up at him.

“S’not fixable. Engine’s dead,” he responded as he shut the hood. “Yer gonna need a ride then?”

“Yeah, uh actually,” you rubbed the back of your neck that was definitely gonna be sunburned, “I kinda have to use the bathroom. Do you live nearby, or—”

“Town’s about thirty minutes away, n’ I live past that.”

“Shit,” you mumbled under your breath while turning away.

What the fuck were you supposed to do now?

“Jus’ go here,” he gestured to the blowing wheat field around you. “No one’s gonna find out.”

“Um, no,” you stopped him. “I’m not gonna do that.”

“Why? Yer too civilized for that shit?”

“I never said that—”

“Ya cityfolk have never had to piss outside before?” he challenged with a raised eyebrow.

You knew he was just trying to rile you up for some odd reason, trying to challenge you into doing something stupid and dumb just for the hell of it. And yet, and this sounded so idiotic, you felt like he was trying to guage something about you, to test some limit you had to see how far he could push you, and for some goddamn reason you were letting him push you past it.

Or maybe it was just because you had to pee really bad and were getting to the point where you really didn’t care anymore.

Either way your patience was running thin.

“I literally never said anything about any of that,” you huffed. “Stop putting words in my mouth. But fucking fine!” you raised your arms up in despair. “I’ll go piss somewhere out here. Happy now?”

The cowboy’s face twisted into surprise for a split second, but you watched it switch back into a frown as he stared boredly.

“Don’t take long. I’ve got places to be,” you could almost hear the chuckle in his voice — he really wasn’t as attractive now that he’d opened his mouth.

Mr. not-so-attractive-anymore cowboy didn’t even help you when you had to pull your overstuffed suitcase out of your trunk and stick it in the back of his pickup.

“A little help?” you’d looked at him with your hands on your hips after trying to hoist it onto the back of his pickup truck and failing.

“I’m the one doing you a favor,” was what he replied with before he just went and sat in the driver's seat — in response you stuck a middle finger out to his back.

It took a couple of tries, but you finally got it up and secured it — though you could feel the sweat that’d built up from you trying to lift your heavy, overpacked suitcase out in the sun and humidity.

Damn you really wanted to kick yourself in the head for being stunned by his looks when you first saw him, his personality was actual garbage.

“Took ya long enough,” he grumbled when you swung the passenger door open, and you scoffed and rolled your eyes, making sure to close the door harsher than it needed to be in response.

You almost expected him to get angry at you for it, but at that point you didn’t care because you finally had AC. It was a sigh of relief after being stuck outside in the sweltering, afternoon sun for almost an hour, and you let yourself lean against the headrest as you finally let yourself breathe something other than the humid air outside that made you feel like you were choking on your own lungs.

The cowboy didn’t say anything after his initial comment, and you both instead drove down the road in silence as you stared out the window, watching the blur of fields and green that passed, with only the sound of the AC blasting to keep you both company.

You found yourself staring at him from the side after a while, perhaps out of boredom; and though you berated yourself once more for being so attracted to him because of how good he looked despite his personality, you couldn’t not thank him for helping you out in a dire situation.

“Thank you,” you found it in yourself to utter it somewhere besides your mind, and you noticed the slight tinge of a smile on his lips and the way his eyes slid over to you for a second.

“What was that?”

“You heard me the first time,” you groaned, resting your head in the palm of your hands while your elbow leaned on the door handle.

That elicited a small chuckle from the cowboy, and somehow you found yourself smiling in return.

“What am I supposed to do with my car?” you took advantage of the more normal mood. “I can’t just leave it on the side of the road.”

“I know someone who can deal with that in town, s’not really a problem.”

“Is there cell service there?” you instantly shot up. “I really have to tell my parents about what happened since they were expecting me to be home in the evening.”

“There’s nothin’ really in town, to be honest — most people use landlines ‘round here,” he shrugged. “Where I live’s got service though, I can bring you there.”

“...Thank you..” you found yourself choking out again. It had to be his stupidly handsome face, there was nothing else that could explain it.

You noticed the small twitching smile on his lips again before it disappeared into his resting bitch face, but he wasn’t cocky about your thanks this time.

“S’not a big deal,” he grumbled back.

“I’m Y/N.” You decided to make the leap before the car settled back into the sound of blasting AC.

“Katsuki,” he replied without missing a beat.

At least now you knew Mr. Cowboy’s name.

“Town’s up ahead,” Katsuki spoke after a minute or so, pointing towards the small sign posted at the side of the road that read Welcome to Auburn Springs — and you watched the deserted-looking fields transform into roads and small buildings through the window as Katsuki began slowing down to adhere to the changed speed limit.

It looked straight out of those old western movies your dad was obsessed with for some reason — with small, cramped and shabby buildings lining the main road, though they all seemed to be out of use with either boarded up doors and windows or peeling signs that read CLOSED.

These used to be businesses, you quickly realized, from the couple of handpainted, faded logos that were still stuck to a couple of windows; but they all had to be shut down for some reason. Perhaps the buildings were too old?

“This is town?” you turned to Katsuki, confused. How did people get anything done?

“Old town,” he grumbled back. “Main street’s up ahead.”

You nodded before turning back out the window, taking note of Katsuki turning right at the edge of the street to where you were met with a lot of buildings with very obviously newer construction (though it was still quite old fashioned — but it wasn’t historic).

Smaller, obviously Mom and Pop shops, lined the street — you caught a motel, a café, and a small grocery store — following the curve of the road as it went into a roundabout at what you guessed was the center of town. A towering fountain stood in the middle of the small square, a young man standing proudly in the middle of it, watching over all the stores for their protection.

Katsuki pulled past the roundabout into a small parking lot behind one of the buildings on the side, and quickly gestured for you to get out.

“I’ll take ya to the tow shop first,” he guided you back towards the stores, and you got a better view of the small town center and the shops that lined it, the small boxes of flowers that were laid out on the sidewalk next to the streetlamps, the single stoplight at the end of the road with a blinking yellow light — you guessed a lot of people didn’t come by.

“Ya comin’?”

You hadn’t realized you’d stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to stare.

Your head snapped back to where Katsuki was standing. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry.”

He nodded slightly, gesturing to the shop behind him and for you to follow him in. When he opened the door to walk in, you half expected him to let the door fall closed behind him; you couldn’t really stop your eyes from widening when he held the door open for you, stunned in place until he glared at you and gestured for you to walk in.

You were immediately blasted with air again, coming from the large fan attached to the cracked ceiling, met with a small shop: an empty counter in the back, and a couple of comfy old armchairs chairs in the foreground with a round, wooden table in the middle.

“Ei!” Katsuki called out, and it startled you out of the calm silence that was present in the shop.

“One sec Katsuki I’m coming!” someone called out from somewhere in the back, maybe there was a hidden room back there.

Katsuki huffed before walking towards the counter while you followed behind him slowly and unsurely, guessing you were waiting for whoever Ei was.

“Sorry, Sorry I–” a tall, red-haired guy (who was also very attractive — was this where all the hot guys had gone?) appeared from some side door that you hadn’t noticed, pausing when he saw you standing there behind the counter as well. “...I was just eating lunch really quickly. I, uh, how can I help you ma’am?”

You opened your mouth to answer but Katsuki was already talking just as the words were forming in your head.

“Her car’s stuck on the side of the highway — the side road ya know? ‘Bout thirty minutes out of town — engine looked like it was busted.”

“Ei” stood there for a few seconds, blinking between you and Katsuki for what felt like hours before his eyes brightened and smiled at the both of you.

“That’s not a problem ma’am,” he nodded towards you. “I can grab it easily and bring it over to Sero’s across the street. He can fix it up for ya if it isn’t too messed up.”

“That would be a life saver, thank you,” you spoke before Katsuki could say anything. “How much do I owe you?”

Ei just let out a smile. “S’not a problem. Any friend of Katsuki’s is a friend of mine.”

“She’s not a friend,” you heard a pained grumble from beside you, and you rolled your eyes.

“No, I insist,” you pushed, turning back to Ei. “I can’t ask you to do something like that without paying you for it.”

Ei let out a small chuckle, with a look directed towards Katsuki that you couldn’t exactly make out, before replying. “Twen’y dollars is enough.”

You dug through the wallet that had been sitting in your back pocket, fishing out a fifty dollar bill instead and placing it on the counter.

Ei opened his mouth to ask about giving you change but you stopped him before he could speak.

“Keep it. You don’t have to charge me a heavily discounted price.”

A slow, toothy smile spread on his face once more, as he glanced back between both you and Katsuki before sliding the bill back over the counter to his side and tucking it to somewhere you couldn’t see it.

“I’ll let ya know tomorrow when I get the car over to Sero’s. Ya got a number that’s good to call?” he grabbed a notepad from his side of the counter and a pen, scribbling quickly as you rattled off your phone number.

“Great, I’ll give ya a call tomorrow ma’am,” he nodded his head slightly.

“Oh, you don’t need to call me that,” you stopped him. It felt weird being called something that made you feel so old. “Just Y/N’s fine.”

“Good to know,” he reached his hand out towards yours over the counter, eyes sliding over towards Katsuki in a way that you didn’t notice. “I’m Eijirou, Miss Y/N.”

You shook his hand with a smile — two super attractive dudes in one day? Your roommate was gonna be mad mad that she decided not to come back with you when you’d asked. “Nice to meet you Mr. Eijirou.”

“Likewise.”

Katsuki cleared his throat, and both you and Eijirou’s handshake broke apart in time for Katsuki to come close enough to grumble in your ear that you looked like you were going to pass out.

“Go get somethin’ from the café across the other side of the fountain,” he pointed out the window. “You’ll get heatstroke otherwise.”

You could barely get yourself to register how close he was standing next to you as he practically breathed down your neck with the smell of his woody, spicy aftershave swallowing you — so you nodded quickly, waved bye to both (and the cool air from the fan) before you pressed open the door and stepped out to shield them both from the view of your flushed face. You could practically feel the heat radiating off your cheeks as you power walked across the sidewalk, trying not to think about what’d just happened in less than a minute.

“Who was she?” Eijirou gave a cheeky smile as he leaned forward on the counter once the door closed behind you. “Ya finally got yourself a girl, man?”

“No one you fuckass,” Katsuki rolled his eyes as he sneered.

“She didn’t look like no one,” Kirishima’s smile widened.

“Jus’ found her on the side of the road and she needed help. Nothin’ more than that.”

“Yeah right Katsuki,” he let out a chuckle. “Yer not known to be the most helpful out there.”

“What’s that supposed t’mean?”

“I’ve known you since we were kids, ‘kay? Yer not exactly known to hold open doors for girls,” Eijirou rose his eyebrows in a smug look. “And I can’t blame ya. She’s pretty.”

“Whatever,” Katsuki crossed his arms over his chest as he turned away.

“Would’ya mind if I asked her out then?” Eijirou hit him with the ultimatum, a growing smirk on his face as he watched Katsuki’s shoulders tense in anger. “I already got her number too, I could ask her tomorrow when I call ‘bout her car. Maybe we could go down to the bar and get a couple drinks, I’ll invite her back—”

“Fine, ya little shit.” Katsuki whirled back around with a scowl imprinted into his features. That’s the reaction he was looking for. “She’s pretty or whatever, ‘kay? I just stopped ‘cause I saw her jumpin’ on the side of the road like a lunatic. But that doesn’t mean anythin’. I don’t like her or nothin’.”

“I never said anything about likin’ her,” Eijirou chuckled. “S’not a bad thing, man. It’s good that yer letting yerself out a lil’. And she seems like a nice person to do that with.”

“Gimme that fifty back,” Katsuki opened his palm over the counter. “Put it on my tab instead.”

Eijirou stuck it in his palm without hesitation, a small, knowing smirk resting over his face as he watched Katsuki stick into his back pocket.

Katsuki liked you.

As it turned out, Katsuki had gone to the city for a farmer’s market (as he did every Sunday and Tuesday), which meant he had to go to that little grocery store you’d noticed to sell off the couple extra crates of fruit he had sitting in the back of the truck. Even though you tried to tell him that you could help him carry at least one as thanks for giving you a ride, he told you that your “noodle arms” weren’t gonna be of any help to him, and carried all of them across the street while telling you to stay by the pickup truck with your iced tea.

It was winding down towards the evening, you realized, as you watched the wispy clouds overhead take their slow strides across the blue sky; the sun was definitely leaning towards the western hemisphere of the sky now, towards a string of mountains that laid in the distance.

Out of plain curiosity, you slipped your phone out of your pocket to see if there was any cell service available. Even a little bit would’ve been fine at that point, you just had to tell your parents what happened and that your trip was probably canceled.

But, as Katsuki had said, there was nothing, not even a single bar, and you only had about five percent of battery left. Great.

You shoved it back into your pocket without another thought, sipping from your iced tea while shielding your eyes from the sun.

“If ya drink like that yer gonna have to piss again.”

Mr. Cowboy Katsuki was back.

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes and flipped him off before walking towards the passenger’s side.

He only barked out a laugh that startled you, leaving him in a lopsided smile that you couldn’t exactly understand — but you were both on the road before you knew it, passing by a couple of different farms that he pointed out because you couldn’t tell the difference between wheat and barley.

It wasn’t long until he pointed out that they’d passed his property line, and you watched the wheat fields turn into corn as Katsuki turned into a smaller, winding road up to a large house you could see from the distance.

“That’s the main house,” Katsuki knew to explain from your curious stare. “I don’t live there. It’s where my boss lives.”

“Oh. What’s your job then?”

“I’m a ranch hand, I help out with stuff ‘round the property. Takin’ of horses and cows n’ shit.”

Well that explained the cowboy outfit.

“I thought you said you were taking me to where you lived.”

“I do live here. I don’t live there, though,” he gestured towards the house specifically. “There’re smaller cabins scattered around the property — two others live on site too.”

“Ranch hands, you mean?”

He grumbled in agreement, and you nodded as you watched the house grow larger and larger until he’d parked the truck right in the middle of the driveway.

You followed him out of the car as he marched straight into the house as if he owned the place, taking hesitant steps until you closed the front door behind you to observe the cozy space that’d been made; a beautiful stone fireplace was what you noticed when you first walked in, as well as the two tufted, brown leather couches with, what looked like, a hand-quilted blanket tossed over the side, and a wooden coffee table in the center to complete the living room.

It made you want to curl up with a book and a cup of coffee just from the sight of it, but you were in some random person’s house you had to remind yourself as you followed where you saw Katsuki disappear to the kitchen (which was small, quaint — with a pretty bowl of fruit on the counter and a dark stained dining table already set with four places of silverware) and the back door where you could see him standing through the window talking to someone.

You quickly made your way outside, where Katsuki was talking to an older man with a large crate in his hands; he was thinned and tall, with blonde hair that stuck out from under the straw hat he was wearing and bright, cheerful blue eyes — with a small smile peeking from his lips when he noticed that you were standing there.

What did Katsuki say to him?

“Sorry to hear about yer car,” he approached you, a gentle tone in his voice. “I do hope it can be fixed tomorrow so you can go home. In the meantime, why don’t you stay in the guest bedroom upstairs?”

“Are you sure?” you blinked. You hadn’t even said anything to the dude and he was already offering to let you stay the night? “I don’t want to be any trouble, I mean there was a motel in town I could just stay–”

“Ya can’t even drive there by yerself,” Bakugou interrupted. “And I’m sure as hell not driving ya there.”

“It would be no trouble,” the man said as he walked up onto the porch. “I have more than enough food ready and the guest room’s always prepared.”

“Uh, then yes. Thank you, Mr…”

“Toshinori,” he nodded as he passed you to step inside. “Just Toshinori, no need for honorifics.”

“Thank you, Toshinori.”

“Of course. Katsuki, get ‘er suitcase outta the trunk, will ya? And show her where the guest bedroom is,” Toshinori said before disappearing into the kitchen, and you inwardly smirked when Katsuki grumbled under his breath about having to lug your heavy suitcase up the stairs yet showed you back through the house and up the stairs without saying anything to Toshinori.

He just pointed towards the room from across the hall, told you the bathroom was right across from it, and trudged back down the stairs with his heavy boot fall to go get your suitcase.

You wandered into the room, taking in the simple wooden bed frame and linen sheets, the matching dresser and nightstand set as well as the lacy curtains that were tied to the edges of the window to let the sun in.

It was pretty and pleasing and simple, and you sat down on the bed without thinking about it to grab your phone from its spot in your back pocket, only to be greeted by a (what seemed like) a thousand notifications from your parents and your roommate — which meant you’d finally gotten some cell service.

You called your mom first, of course — she would’ve killed you if you hadn’t — and she was almost crying when you told her that you were okay and that the car had just decided to be a piece of shit and break down in the worst place possible. She seemed hesitant to hang up once you’d finished, but she ran out of things to tell you about and finally had to let you go after about two minutes.

Your roommate though, you savored that conversation.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she screamed. “You just happen to be stuck where all the hot people are and you can’t even send me a picture of one of them?”

“It was only like, two hot guys but whatever.”

“Okay, okay, okay — what about the cowboy though? You said he was an asshole but he was hella good looking. Like how good looking, describe him.”

“Um, well he’s blonde, and tall,” you bit the inside of your cheek. “Super attractive. Probably toned too, I mean he does work on a farm all day, I’m sure he does a lot of heavy lifting.”

“Anything else?” she pressed. “Give me specifics here.”

“His eyes are red, like a really pretty, vibrant red — kinda like a strawberry, sorta. And he’s always kinda frowning. That’s why I was scared of him when I first saw him! I thought he was gonna come and yell at me, I swear–”

You were interrupted by knocking, where you whirled around to find Katsuki standing at your open door with your suitcase, his (what you guessed, at this point you only knew him for like, two hours) usual frown on his face but with a new look you hadn’t seen in his eyes.

Shit. He fucking heard me, right?

“Dinner’s in twen’y,” was all he said before he left — and you let out a sigh of relief in return at the lack of reaction.

By the time you’d washed your face and gotten downstairs, the table had already been joined by two other guys, who, you guessed, were the other ranch hands Katsuki was talking about earlier, along with an additional place setting at the end of the table. One of the guys was covered in freckles and had green hair, and the other had dual-colored red and white hair. Izuku, who you learned was the green-haired guy, asked you a million questions about college: what you majored in, what it was like living in the city, how it was to attend classes everyday — everything he could probably think about; in the meantime Shoto, Mr. red and white hair, sat quietly and nodded along to whatever Izuku said.

Surprisingly, Katsuki did the same as Shoto did, with the occasional grunt to something or a one-word answer when Toshinori told him about something that had to be done the next day, and it was surprising to see him act un-snarky compared to how he’d been earlier; you kinda wanted to kick him under the table just to see what he would do in response, but you didn’t want to be rude, especially not when his boss was nice enough to let you stay the night without even meeting you — for all he knew, you might rob the place and sneak away when no one was awake.

And honestly, it was nice to sit down and eat at a dinner table, it felt like you were at home when you were in highschool, where your mom did that thing where she made everyone go around the table and talk about one thing interesting they learned that day; it was so different from the nights you’d spent cooped up in the quiet library with a simple sandwich so you could get through your essay in time.

You were quick to offer help in cleaning up (since you’d been upstairs pacing around your room trying to convince yourself that Katsuki, in fact, hadn’t heard what you’d said about him and the weird glint in his eye was made up in your mind) since you’d been upstairs when they were setting the table, stacking all the plates silverware and bringing them over to the sink where Katsuki was already washing his.

“Just put ‘em down, I’ll do ‘em,” he pointed to the counter space next to the sink.

“I can help though,” you crossed your arms over your chest. He hadn’t even let you carry one crate when you were in town — he had to at least let you help here.

“Clean up the lefto’ers,” he rolled his eyes before going back to scrubbing a plate. “There’s smaller containers in that cabinet next to the fridge. Put ‘em in there and bring me the bigger dishes.”

“Aye Aye Captain.”

You heard him grumble under his breath and you laughed as you stuffed leftover carrots into a smaller tupperware container.

It was kinda funny, actually, how your perception of him had changed in the past couple hours: you’d gone from being scared of him, to thinking he was attractive, then finding out he was an asshole, and now you were stuck in this weird limbo of being friendly and awkward with him.

“Do you have a phone charger I could borrow?” you asked as you placed the larger dishes next to the sink. “My phone is about to die and I forgot to bring one.”

“No.”

“I won’t lose it or break it if that's what you’re thinking,” you stood next to him as finished up the dishes.

“Can’t,” was all he said as he used a towel to dry his hands.

“Why not?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“I don’t have one.”

That made you pause for a second, stuck in place as you watched him shuffle to the other side of the kitchen to do something.

“What do you mean you don’t have one?”

“I don’t have one,” he shrugged.

“What do you use to charge your phone then?”

“I have one but it won’t work on yers.”

“Why? What phone do you have?”

And damn, were you shocked when he pulled an old flip phone out of his back pocket to show you.

“Are you serious?” you blinked between him and the phone in his hand, watching as the scowl on his face deepened — and that was about all you could take before you burst into laughter. “How do you do anything on it? Can you even text on it or what?”

“Oh shaddup,” he grumbled as he shoved it into his back pocket, watching as you could barely hold yourself up as you laughed about him being a grandpa and the phone being from the 1990s.

The both of you’d actually forgotten that everyone else was still in the kitchen with you — until Midoriya told you that he had a phone charger you could borrow, leaving you and Katsuki standing there and staring at the rest of the kitchen with wide eyes until you could finally muster out a “yes” and a “thank you”.

Waking up the next morning without the sound of your phone alarm screaming at you to get up so you could lug yourself to class was refreshing, to say the least. It was almost strange to wake up naturally, to the sunlight streaming in through the window and the view of the green fields outside.

It was probably the most relaxed you’d felt in a while.

In fact you were so relaxed, that you stumbled down the stairs after just crawling out of bed in need of some coffee since you remembered that you’d noticed one when you were in the kitchen yesterday. It was already late morning, so you expected that everyone else would be out doing whatever their jobs were anyways, it wouldn’t matter what you looked like.

The wooden floors creaked underfoot as you stepped into the kitchen, beelining straight to the coffee pot that sat on the counter next to the fridge — a smile perking up when you realized there was already coffee in it, and it was still a good temperature.

But you almost spilled coffee all over yourself when someone cleared their throat, and you whirled around to find Katsuki sitting at the kitchen table with a mug in hand; a stupid smirk climbing up his face as he realized he’d scared you.

“Did sleeping beauty finally wake up?” he sipped his coffee, looking up at you through his eyebrows.

You only rolled your eyes as you took a sip from your own mug, though you pulled away after a second because it was way too bitter.

“Do you guys have any creamer or something?”

“Fridge,” he grumbled — eyes following as you opened it and grabbed a small glass container, pouring it into your coffee and putting it back before stirring it with a spoon and coming to sit at the table.

“What time do you wake up?” you asked after a moment. “I’m guessing you didn’t just get up and come here to grab coffee.”

“Around six,” he shrugged. “We try to do more work in the mornings so it’s not too hot.”

You just nodded as you went back to sipping on your coffee, watching from the windows as the fields swayed in response to the wind. Life seemed to move so much slower out here, which was so strange compared to the busy lifestyle you were used to.

And what felt even stranger was Katsuki sitting next to you, sipping on his coffee, without a care in the world — strangely domestic, even. You could find yourself imagining your future like this, in a small little kitchen being served pancakes and coffee as you stared out to the pretty, lush fields outside.

But, why were you thinking about this with Katsuki?

You turned to look at him discreetly, watching his throat move slowly as he sipped on his coffee, the steam still rising from the cup.

How was he able to drink it when it was so hot? Was he secretly burning his tongue and keeping quiet about it?

“Ei–Eijirou call you yet?” Katsuki (speak of the devil) asked suddenly, his voice harder and colder, a contrast to what it had been when he’d first called you out for sleeping in.

“I don’t think so,” you shrugged, sitting up straighter. “I haven’t checked my phone yet. But I’m pretty sure his phone call would’ve woken me up.”

“Let me know what happens,” he said as he pushed himself up from the table. “I can drive ya into town if it gets fixed.”

“I will,” was all you could say before he was already out on the porch, back door slamming behind him as you were left staring at the rest of the empty kitchen.

The sudden change in his behavior threw you off, leaving you with whiplash as you took another small sip of your coffee. You thought the both of you would continue being as friendly as you had been yesterday — if “friendly” could be defined as trying to get a rise out of the other, but to you it meant the same.

What’d happened in the few minutes that neither of you were talking?

You could only let out a sigh, pushing yourself up from the table to wash your mug in the sink with a small, unnoticed frown settling over your lips. And it, once more, led you towards the question: why were you thinking about Katsuki?

And you could try to justify it by saying it was because he was the only person you’d really talked to in the entire town — maybe the only person you really got to know (in a small way). Maybe it was just because he was attractive, and there was some sort of pull that always seemed to lead to wherever he was — you really weren’t sure.

Omygodddd…. I’m getting hung up over a guy I’ve barely met.

And with that, you headed upstairs to take a shower and clear your head.

You were, once again, reminded by the circumstances of your trip when you opened your suitcase to only find it stuffed with winter clothes — a byproduct of you still having a majority of your wardrobe stuck in your room at your parents house. You’d been planning on switching out your winter wardrobe with the summer clothes from home over your week spent there, since the sweaters and puffy jackets took up too much space for anything else to fit in your small, shared dorm closet.

The only thing that seemed to be appropriate for the weather outside was an oversized university t-shirt that you’d gotten at the beginning of the year that you’d promptly forgotten about, only found a couple days ago when you packed your whole wardrobe away — and a pair of jeans.

The shirt seemed to swallow you though, since the university had just given out large sizes for everyone (maybe because they expected everyone was gonna be a giant football player for some reason), so you tied it up into a somewhat crop top just so you wouldn’t drown in the cheap cotton.

If you weren’t able to go home this week and switch out your clothes, you might find yourself dying in the heat when you went back for classes next week. At least then you’d have an excuse to tell your parents to buy clothes instead of school supplies.

As you went through your suitcase to see if there was anything you could wear in hotter weather (maybe something had just slipped in), your phone started ringing.

You only assumed it was your mom, asking what an update was on the situation with your car, and answered it without looking at the screen.

When “Hey, it’s Eijirou,” came out instead of Hi honey, you had to pause just to register what was going on.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Eijirou,” you finally answered, sitting down on your bed. “Sorry, I’m going through my suitcase.”

“Nah yer all good. I wanted to tell you I brought yer car to Sero’s already. He said the engine looks real old. He’s gonna try and fix it, but he said there’s no promises. I’ll call ya later in the evening once he’s finished.”

“Damn, that was fast.”

“Yeah, well there’s not exactly a lotta business ‘round here. Only luck we have is if someone’s drivin’ and their car breaks down — like what happened with you.” You heard him chuckle from the other end of the phone before it settled into silence for a second or so. “How’s Katsuki treating ya?”

The topic startled you. Was he reading your mind or what? And, what exactly were you supposed to say when you knew they were probably friends of some sort? Katsuki called him Ei.

“Um, fine?” you sounded like you were unsure, which wasn’t what you were going for since you were just confused as to where it came from.

“Lemme know if he’s being an asshole — I’ll whack him upside the head for ya. He doesn’t exactly have a lotta experience being open with others.”

WHERE IS ALL THIS COMING FROM??

“I’ll, uh — I’ll keep that in mind,” you responded just as unsure, which was then met with an awkward silence that he finally ended with an “I’ll call ya later about the car” and a goodbye.

You hung up the phone feeling more confused about what was going on with Katsuki than you’d started, and just decided to ignore all of it to head downstairs and tell him about the situation with your car — he did say to tell him what happened when you got the call from Eijirou.

No one was in the kitchen when you stepped out to the back porch, making sure to close the door behind you. It was the first time you’d seen the rest of the farm in its openness, and not through a window.

A vegetable garden was what first caught your eyes, sitting in a small fenced area just next to the porch with neat little rows and small wooden signs labeling each crop. A faded red barn sat just a couple hundred feet past that, with a couple of windows you could see horses through as you walked past a separate patch of strawberries.

You spotted one of the cabins that Katsuki had been talking about earlier towards the left of it all: a neat little wood cabin with a small, clean porch, a welcome mat, and a rocking chair out front.

You found Katsuki standing at the side of the barn with a hose and a bucket, washing a foal who looked like they’d rather do anything than be there at that moment.

He didn’t say anything when he noticed you’d approached him, evidenced by the double take he’d given your figure before he went back to brushing the wriggling horse to make sure the soap cleansed them thoroughly.

“Eijirou called about the car.”

He didn’t look up as he responded. “And?”

“He said that Sero said the engine looked pretty old, so it might not be able to get fixed. But he’ll call later in the evening to let me know for sure.”

You heard him hum before he doused the foal with hose water.

“I’m not really sure what to do now,” you continued, leaning against the wall. “If the car isn’t fixable does that mean I’m stuck? I don’t wanna ask my parents to come out all the way here just to get me.”

“I’ve gotta go to the farmers market in the city again tomorrow,” Katsuki grumbled as he towel-dried the foal (who snuggled into his warmth). “I can jus’ take ya with me.”

“Are you sure?” you pressed. “I don’t want to be a burden and–”

“Stop talkin’ shit,” he rolled his eyes as he scooped the foal up and walked back into the barn with you following. “M’already going there — S’not a burden if I’m already headed there anyways. Jus’ lemme know what happens later and we’ll see.”

“Thank you,” you sighed, watching him place the foal back into the stable with its mother, where it rushed straight to nurse from her. “What’s their name?” you turned to Katsuki.

“The foal? Her name’s Lavender.”

“That’s pretty,” you hummed.

“Thought it was fitting for a spring baby,” he shrugged, rearranging some of the tack equipment to their proper places on the opposing wall.

You walked over to another horse, a pretty brown mare who had her head sticking out of her stall, trying to gauge your attention.

“You named them?”

“Some of ‘em, yeah,” he gestured to the pretty girl who was now nuzzling your hand to encourage you to keep running your fingers across her face. “She’s Iris.”

“I used to love naming horses,” you gave your full attention to the creature in front of you, scratching the sides of her ears as she bent down. You could feel Katsuki’s stare from the back of your head.

“My grandparents had horses,” you continued. “They lived not too far from the town I live in, so we’d try and visit them in the summer. They used to let me name the summer babies when we visited — one of them was Baby. She was a baby horse so I only thought it was proper to name her Baby. I was three, I think,” you chuckled. “Another one was Strawberry — because I had an obsession with strawberries when I was six.”

When you looked back at Katsuki, he was leaning against the opposing wall, staring at you — more like observing you, actually; like you were some animal in your natural habitat on some nature documentary.

“The first horse I ever named was this black mare when I was ten,” he spoke, hands dug into his sides with his arms crossed over his chest. “Called her Cherry.”

“That sounds like a hooker’s name,” you raised an eyebrow, watching as the soft expression he wore turned into a playful sneer.

“Hah? As if Baby and Strawberry aren’t hooker names.”

“Well, I mean, they could be,” you rolled your eyes. “But I feel like they’re not as obvious as Cherry.”

“Whatever,” he bit back, pushing himself off the wall. “Still a better name than Baby.”

“I was three!”

“Whatever you say,” you heard him chuckle as he strode out, hands shoved into his pocket with a cocky stance. “Now are ya gonna help me, or are ya just gonna stand around and stare?”

“Help you with what, exactly?” It was your turn to cross your arms over your chest with an eyebrow raised. “I thought I was too weak to help.”

“This is different.”

“What is it?”

“Strawberries.”

“...Strawberries?”

He didn’t answer you as he charged straight out of the barn, his stupid cowboy boots leaving you in the dust as you were forced to follow behind him without an answer.

Katsuki led you past the vegetable garden you saw earlier to the small patch of strawberries you’d noticed, though you didn’t get what he meant by saying he needed “help” with them. Picking them?

The cabin you’d noticed earlier lay nearby as well, under the cool shade of the grove of trees outlining the main house — and you stood, watching as Katsuki ran up the small steps of the porch to grab two baskets, before coming back to hand you one.

“That cabin’s yours?” you squinted in the sun, almost jealous that you weren’t wearing some bigass cowboy hat that would protect your eyes.

“Yeah,” he grunted. “Strawberries are mine too,” he gestured towards the small, fenced area. “I grew ‘em myself for the market.”

“Really? That’s so cool,” you followed him, stepping over the fence. “So you sell them for yourself then?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “The old man said he doesn’t really care what we do since we’ve already helped him for so long.”

“Do you just sell them as plain strawberries — or do you make stuff out of them?”

“Jus’ jam, usually,” he grunted, leaning down as he began picking the fruits off the bushes and tossing them into his basket. “Don’t really get enough time to do much else.”

You hummed, leaning down at another bush as you plucked off a couple strawberries and placed them into the basket held in the crook of your elbow. They were so vibrantly red, like the color of expensive lipstick your roommate liked to wear out to a bar (under the guise that it’d attract rich, hot dudes) — like the color of Katsuki’s eyes, just as you’d noticed the night before.

You kind of wanted to eat all of them, though you weren’t sure that Katsuki would be happy about you gobbling down all of his strawberries. He’d probably tear you a new one. But, maybe a taste wouldn’t hurt.

You plucked a small one, as ripe and red as some of the larger ones you’d picked, just so it would be more discreet — a small smile creeping up when you saw that Katsuki was busy doing what he was doing; you were about to pop it into your mouth when you noticed a beetle making it’s journey through the leaves of the bush before it crawled into one of the branches and disappeared into the plant, and immediately decided against trying any of them before they were washed.

It wasn’t too long til your basket was filled to the brim, threatening to overflow from the way they were piled on top of each other; it was heavy enough that it required two hands to hold it.

Katsuki was just about finished too, finally standing up to his full height and wiping away the sweat that’d dripped down his forehead with the back of his forearm before his eyes settled on you. A small, sly smirk had made its way up to his lips, though you couldn’t understand why he was looking at you like that.

“What’s the look for?” you raised an eyebrow.

“You need both hands to hold the basket?” he snorted.

You wrinkled your nose as soon as you realized he was carrying his own with a single sturdy hand — almost making the stupid basket look as light as air, even though you knew how heavy it was since it was just as filled (if not more) as yours was.

“Well sorry Mr. I work on a farm and basically lift weights for a living, that I need two hands to hold the basket so I don’t fall on my ass,” you huffed, rolling your eyes when he let out his bark of a laugh.

“Jus’ gimme that,” he walked towards you, holding his other hand out.

“No. I can carry it on my own.” Even though my shoulders are killing me. But feminism!

“It looks like yer arms are about to pop off,” he took another step closer. “Give it.”

“Nope,” you answered, making sure to pop the p while rolling your feet back and forth between your toes and heels.

“Give me the basket, shitty woman.”

“You said I should be helping you,” you emphasized. “This is me helping you.”

“You can help me — by giving me the basket.”

“How is that helping you?”

“Ya can’t exactly do anything else if yer arms fall off,” he rolled his eyes, ignoring the offended look you gave him. “B’sides, I want ya to go grab the jars for me.”

His hand comes to grab the handle you’re gripping tightly, fingers accidentally brushing against yours as the smell of aftershave hits your nose, just as it had yesterday from how close you’re standing — it makes your stomach flutter from how warm and rough his hands are, just from that little glimpse you catch of him, and you almost drop the basket in the process.

“Wh-Where are they?” you don’t break the eye contact that’s connected you, his hand still over yours.

“M’house,” he rasps — and you swallow, thickly, letting the weight of the basket shift from your hands to his before he continues. “They’re on the counter.”

You nod slightly, finally breaking the heat of his stare and his fingers when you fully let go of the basket and turn to the small cabin, thankful for the cool shade of the trees when you step up the porch from how hot your face has become, like you’d gotten a sunburn.

The little welcome mat invites you in as you push open his front door; and though it feels strange walking into someone’s house like that, you don’t want to look back at Katsuki and give him the opportunity to notice your flushed face.

You settle on not being nosy as you make your way into his kitchen after wiping your shoes on the welcome mat, just taking note of his decor’s simplicity and the cleanliness of the small cabin. There was a cardboard box filled with jars sitting on the counter, just as he said there would be — which you grabbed easily before making your way outside.

Katsuki was still standing where he had been, feet rooted in the same position under the sun with flushed cheeks under his cowboy hat — an unreadable expression on his face before he turned and began trudging towards the house with you by his side. There was nothing besides the crunch of dirt underfoot and the birds you could hear from the trees. Your shoulders occasionally bumped due to your unfamiliarity with the uneven ground, but he never said anything — so you left it.

The kitchen was quiet too, when you both walked in, with only the sound of the fan whirring from the living room ceiling while you looked up to Katsuki, wondering what’d happened again.

Every time there was a moment between you, it disappeared to reveal Katsuki being harsher than he had been previously — and it was always in a matter of seconds. Sure, he hadn’t been welcoming when you met him, but he was still willing to stop at the side of the road to help a complete stranger; that could tell you enough about his character.

You watched from the kitchen table as he washed the strawberries in a large plastic bowl in the sink, rinsing them out a couple of times before he placed them between your seat at the table and the one next to you. As he turned away to get whatever else he needed, you stole a strawberry — popping it into your mouth, eyes widening from how good it was.

After plucking the stem off another, a firm hand stopped you from taking a bite out of it; and Katsuki gave you a sneer after stealing it and taking a bite while he sat in the seat next to you.

“Cut ‘em small,” he pushed a knife and a cutting board your way.

“What’re you doing then?” you raised your eyebrows, watching as he finished off the rest of the strawberry he’d stolen.

“Making sure ya do it correctly,” he leaned back in his chair.

“That’s not fair.”

“It is if yer a thief.”

“It was one.”

“I saw you take the first one,” he smirked, leaving you to roll your eyes before pulling the bowl closer and getting to work.

He hovered over you for the first five you did, commenting that you were cutting the strawberry cubes too big or too small (though you weren’t sure it mattered if they were ‘too’ small — didn’t you want it as small as possible for jam?). But when he finally approved of the size of the pieces, you built up a pace for yourself — slicing them long twice before cutting them three (or four, depending on the size of the strawberry) ways across — tossing them into a different bowl Katsuki’d provided when the cutting board became too full.

It didn’t take as long as you would have expected, your fingers stained red and ready to prune when you finished, before looking up to find Katsuki’s nodding head bobbing alongside you.

“Not too bad for a newbie,” he smirked, standing up and grabbing sugar.

After adding the amount he deemed necessary, he showed you how he got it ready to cook by mixing the sugar and strawberries with a spatula until the mixture was soupy and liquidy. He transferred it to a pot on the stove, still stirring it with the same spatula as he explained what to do.

“If it starts sticking, ya need to take it off and lower the heat,” was one of the pieces of advice he gave (the only one you retained) — but all you could do was watch the top of his cowboy hat bob up and down from your spot on the countertop, kicking your legs slightly as you watched him go through the motions of making strawberry jam.

It continued on for twenty minutes, of him explaining small things that you weren’t really listening to as he continued to stir it; until you watched the foam bubble down to reveal a shiny jam, darker than the color of the original strawberries.

“Put the kettle on,” he ordered, and you kicked your legs out as you pushed yourself off the counter.

You wandered to the other side of the kitchen to do as he asked, watching as he turned the gas off and let the pot start cooling down while stirring.

“What’s the water for?”

“So the jars don’t break,” he looked up. “The glass shatters if the temperature difference is too high.”

He had you pour the water into the jars to warm them up before he came to the table and started filling them up with a ladle stolen from a kitchen drawer, handing them to you to seal and cap them.

The process was quiet and concentrated, as you both went through the motions of filling up each jar and sealing them, until you were finished and left with about thirty jars.

It was when you finished that you realized how close you were sitting next to each other, shoulders almost touching, your pinky fingers basically intertwined; you could practically feel the heat radiating off of him. And when you turned to look at him, you noticed how close your faces were to each other — how you you could practically feel his breath fanning your face when he did the same, how his eyes seemed to roam your face the same way yours were doing to his — and how it felt like you were getting closer; an invisible string was drawing you together, bringing you both closer and closer as you stared at his lips.

“Oh — jam?”

All it took was an instant for the both of you to break eye contact, turning to stare at the back door. Shoto had stepped in, completely disregarding the both of you as he walked forward and picked up a jar. You barely realized when Katsuki’s expression had turned into a sneer and he’d stood up from the table without missing a beat.

“Beat it half n’ half.”

“But, it’s lunch,” Shoto stared at him blankly.

And just like that, it was like nothing had happened. Again.

Lunch consisted of peanut butter and jam sandwiches (because Katsuki had argued that you couldn’t refer to his jam as jelly — even though they were basically the same thing), and earned you the nickname “strawberry shortcake” when you dropped jam on your shirt.

(“Didn’t ya say you were obsessed with strawberries?” Katsuki smirked when you asked him where it came from.)

Eijirou called after lunch to let you know that the car wasn’t able to be fixed and that Sero wanted to buy it so he could use some of the parts. The news wasn’t that surprising, since your parents had bought it second hand as soon as you got your driver's license when you turned sixteen and that you were now a rising senior in college; and after a quick phone call to your parents to let them know about the situation, they agreed the best thing to do would be selling it so you could buy a new car.

You didn’t even notice when the sun began hanging low in the sky — and the afternoon turned to evening.

It was during dinner that you realized that you probably wouldn’t get a chance to see anyone ever again. Even if you hadn’t spent time with Shoto or Izuku — it was easy to see how nice and welcoming they were. It led to the four of you (Katsuki tagged along too) laying outside beside a small campfire and drinking beer, trading stories as if you’d known each other your entire life.

It was fun to learn about their lives in a small town: how everyone had practically known each other by the time they were five and all the shenanigans they would get up to. They told you about their other friends, the ones who’d moved away for bigger opportunities in bigger cities — and you noticed the way Katsuki’s face seemed to fall when the topic was brought up, even though he hid it by sipping on his beer quietly.

Both Shoto and Izuku eventually waved their goodbyes when they got up to go to bed, in the case that they wouldn’t be able to see in the morning if they were too busy, leaving you and Katsuki to quietly sip beer by the flames in comfortable silence.

“It’s weird to think that I won’t see you again,” you murmured after a while. The couple of beers you drank seemed to loosen the restraint your mind was holding on your mouth, and you stared up at the sky after a moment when he didn’t answer. “I won’t get the chance to be here again.”

Katsuki hummed in response, watching as you began tracing out constellations with your finger, muttering the names to yourself in the exact stupid way Deku used to. But, he wasn’t annoyed when you did it.

“Can I ask you something?” you turned to him suddenly, watching as he put his beer down.

“Shoot.”

“Why was your mood changing all day?”

“What d’you mean?” he blinked.

“Like, it felt like we were close at times — but then you’d seem angry again,” you looked back up at the sky and sighed before trailing off. “I just, I thought…”

“I heard you yest’rday.”

You snapped back to where Katsuki was staring at the ground.

“No one’s compared my eyes to strawberries before,” he commented. “Usually it’s rubies n’ other shit.”

“You heard?”

“M’pretty sure everyone heard shortcake,” he chuckled. “You were fuckin’ yappin’ at the top of yer lungs.”

“I was not!” you huffed. You could feel your face burning up as you huffed and turned away.

It remained silent for another minute or two before Katsuki spoke again.

“Back in highschool, I was with someone,” he started. “And I thought we were gonna stay like that — that she was gonna go away for college and come back so we could get married. I proposed to her, and she said no and left.” He looked back up and you watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed thickly. “You– uh, I guess you reminded me of her a little.”

You could only blink in response to his confession, watching the light from the fire dance off his face as he stared almost wistfully off into the distance.

“I do think, that uh, yer…pretty, or whatever,” he coughed out. “But, it’s not permanent. Yer gonna go back tomorrow and eventually forget.”

It was silent again, the sound of the crackling fire remnant of his car’s old air conditioning.

“You don’t know that,” you finally spoke hesitantly, scooting across the log to where he was sitting.

He looked up at those words, his eyes scanning your face, your expressions, the way you’d placed yourself so easily next to him.

“And even if I don’t stay here, it’s not like there’s no way to contact you — or even see you again. You live a couple hours from me, and you come to farmer’s markets there,” you paused, gathering your thoughts before you looked back up at him and the soft look on his face. “Katsuki… whatever she did — I’m not her.”

Maybe the beer had a larger effect on you than you thought it did — you weren’t one to admit something like that as easily as you just did, but it was probably a combination of the hazy spell your mind was experiencing as well as the intoxicating atmosphere of the night. You could feel your heart jump in your chest as Katsuki just stared at you, his eyes flicking down ever so often until he moved himself closer to you, his hand hovering just above your cheek as you inhaled his scent once more.

“...may I kiss you?” he whispered.

You nodded slightly, shocked, before he’d pressed his lips up against yours in a sweet, chaste kiss. You could taste the beer on him as his hands rose and cupped your cheeks gently, his thumbs stroking the tops of your cheeks as yours tangled around his neck, playing with the back of his hair.

He took that as an invitation to pull you closer, pulling you up onto his lap with his arms wrapped around your waist and rubbing small strokes up the small of your back — melting into each other as sugar does into jam, slowly and gently and passionately through small touches and gazes.

When you finally pulled away for air, you could see the flush of his face as he stared up at the sky and panted, pulling you flush against his chest.

“Damn shortcake,” you heard the smirk in his voice — though it didn’t seem to be as cocky as you would’ve expected. “You know how to kiss.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you murmured into his chest, feeling the rumble as he let out a short chuckle.

“Nothin’,” he pulled away for a second, and you noticed him grabbing something from his jean pocket.

In the light of the fire, he showed you his beaten leather wallet, with cracks and scratches — pulling out a fifty dollar bill that he then handed to you.

“What’s this for?” you sat up, your head leaning against his shoulder.

“S’the money you gave Ei,” he flipped it over, revealing a phone number on the other side, before looking away in embarrassment. “I was gonna give it to ya tomorrow when I dropped ya off — Ei suggested it.”

You couldn’t help but let out a giggle to the red that was rising on his face, becoming even more flushed than he had been when he kissed you.

“Thank you,” you smiled. “Now I can call you on your ancient phone.”

“Yeah, well, now I can teach ya how to make strawberry shortcake.”

#liv.reblogs<3 #cowboy bakugou #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki

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livthelazywriter · 2 years

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pov onigiri miya sponsors a beach volleyball tournament

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livthelazywriter · 2 years

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Random Emotional Things the Haikyuu Boys Have Said

+ genre. sfw

+ warnings. none

“I can’t wait to marry you.”

You weren’t even doing anything remotely special when Kuroo said this to you, catching you by surprise and nearly making you fall of of your chair. Even with you messy hair and pajama pants on, Kuroo couldn’t help but think, ‘Yep, that’s going to be all mine one day.’

“You’d look so pretty carrying our baby.”

You and Bokuto were out sundress shopping of all things whenever he dropped this on you, a small smile on his face. You had just come out of the dressing room to show him your pick and a pregnant woman had just so happened to walk by, prompting your boyfriend to say this in the softest tone you’d ever heard him speak.

“Please don’t ever leave me, I don’t think I could ever handle losing you.”

It was after a game. MSBY had won, but for some reason Atsumu had rushed to you, tears in his eyes and hugged you tighter than he ever had before. It took you off gaurd because usually your boyfriend was so happy and hyped after winning. But that day, he spent minutes sobbing into your shoulder, even while fans and teammates surrounded him with congratulations.

“You don’t know just how deep my love runs for you. I would fucking do anything for you.”

He thought you were asleep. You knew that, because that’s the only way Suna would ever express something so deep and so personal towards you. He was stroking your back, quiet sniffles leaving him as he kissed your hair. And that night, he held you tighter than he ever had before and it took everything in you not to burst out crying as he nuzzled into your shoulder.

#hq x reader #hq fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #kuroo x reader #kuroo fluff #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro #atsumu x reader #atsumu fluff #liv.reblogs<3

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livthelazywriter · 2 years

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Vice Versa

You hated your soulmate.

There were different ways of finding your soulmate in this world. Some had a connected string around their pinkies, some had matching symbols, some had the same songs stuck in their heads…etc.

But you? You had to be one of those that got the same injuries as your other half's.

And it seemed that your soulmate was injury prone.

“Y/n, what on earth happened to you??” Your friend gasped when you groaned as you took your shirt off. It was time for gym class and you were changing into your workout uniform.

You spotted a dark bruise on your elbow and the side of your shoulder.

“That’s not even the worst of it,” you deadpanned. You rolled up your pants to show more bruises littered across your knees and scrapes on your shin and thighs.

“I don’t know what the hell my soulmate is doing, but they really need to get their shit together. Obviously they don’t care enough about their soulmate to treat their body so recklessly.”

It was worse since you tended to bruise easily and so you were sure that their injuries looked worse on you.

“He’s probably some delinquent that gets into fights and skips school and is going to end up in JUVIE,” you ranted. “If he’s not there already.”

“Oh my god,” you whispered, horrified. “What if my soulmate is already in jail??”

Your teachers had been concerned over the years upon seeing your constant bruises. After confirming that you were indeed not being abused by your family or a boyfriend, they looked at you warily. They probably thought it was you that was getting into trouble.

Your friend laughed. “Little miss higher-level-class with her head in her books soulmates with a delinquent?”

“Maybe I should get in a fight,” you muttered. “Give them a taste of their own medicine.”

Perhaps it was the judgement from your teachers and peers that you worked to show everyone that you were indeed a good kid, and wanted nothing but to keep a low profile and achieve success in school.

Over the years, you got a fairly high pain tolerance, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t an occasional hurt that sometimes put you in an embarrassing position.

“ACK,” you had yelled during a lecture at your late-night cram school.

Everyone had turned to stare at you as you held your chest.

It had felt as though you had been struck by something heavy and being a person with boobs did NOT help the feeling.

Another time, something similar had happened, but this time it was a blow to the stomach that knocked the wind out of you and made you stumble. Your butt hit the pavement and you gained a morbid satisfaction that perhaps your soulmate felt their own consequences.

“Aw c’mon, maybe he’s a hot bad boy. That wouldn’t be so bad,” your friend said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Psh I’ll show him I can be a lot worse when I meet him.”

She laughed before pausing. “Also, you’re still going with me to the game later right??” She rubbed the ankle of her knee-highs where underneath a symbol of a violet lay tattooed.

“Yes yes,” you replied. You shook your head. She was an avid fan of volleyball and was convinced that her crush, Akaashi Keiji, was her soulmate. Her plan was to go to one of his games and see if his uniform moved around enough to show a glimpse of the same tattoo. A plan you were doubtful of.

“If he’s not, I’m throwing myself off a cliff.”

You snorted. “Dramatic much?”

“He’s the love of my life.”

“Your poor soulmate,” you said, shaking your head. “Just ask him to take his shirt off or something.”

“If I had the guts to do that, I would have already.”

The both of you walked out to the field.

“I don’t know. It’d be a funny way to meet him though.”

You both chortled at the thought of Akaashi’s stoic face blanching when some random girl asked him to strip.

“WATCH OUT!”

“OOF,” you said as you were knocked to the ground.

Some boys had been playing baseball and one of the catchers hadn’t seen you walking. He rammed his elbow into your side as both of you fell.

“I would love it if I stopped having such an intimate relationship with the ground,” you groaned for the second time.

“I’m so sorry!” The boy looked at you horrified.

You assured him that you were fine and waved him off. After all, you were used to this.

“Why were they even playing catch on the track??”

“Dunno but it’s just my luck. Men just seem to want to hurt me.”

“Amen,” she shook her head.

—----------------------------------------------------------

The next few days consisted of you wincing and clutching your side. You had been elbowed a lot harder than you initially thought and this time you really felt it.

“Are you okay?” Your friend asked as you gingerly sat down on the bleacher next to her.

You didn’t respond but merely raised your shirt slightly and she grimaced. A huge oval-shaped bruise covered the side of your ribcage.

“Yeesh, your soulmate is definitely going to feel that.”

You made a face. You kind of felt sorry towards him this time. Hopefully he was tough and wouldn’t feel it as much.

“Ooo,” your friend smacked you on the arm. “There he is!”

You glared at her mini assault but her eyes were zoomed in on the dark-haired setter that had stepped on the court.

“Okay, you so have to help me look for his tattoo.”

“I don’t know. I feel kind of creepy checking out Akaashi the entire game.”

This time she glared at you and you sighed, promising her that you would indeed, stare at Akaashi for the game.

It felt a bit awkward trying to gauge from the small slivers of exposed skin when he jumped or dived but at least your friend was enjoying it.

“Are you even looking for the tattoo,” you looked at her suspiciously as she squealed and clapped her hands at his backset.

“I was looking at his technique that time!”

“You’re drooling.”

“Oh my god.”

“What is it now?” You asked, exasperated. “Did he finally take his shirt off for some reason?”

“Y/n, look.”

Her eyes were trained, not on Akaashi but a boy with grey and white spiked hair next to him.

Bokuto Kotaro, ace of the Fukorodani team, had lifted his shirt to wipe sweat gathered on his forehead. He had paused with the fabric bunched in his hands, laughing boisterously at something his teammate had said. Had he looked towards the stands, he would have seen a girl, frozen and looking mildly horrified, at the dark, oval-shaped bruise sporting the side of his ribcage.

“Well that explains a lot,” she said with a face that looked as if she was trying not to laugh.

You both watched as he spiked straight down the court and you looked at your hands. That certainly explained the slight stinging feeling you felt in your palms nearly everyday. It happened so much that you got used to it and forgot it happened most of the time.

“Hit me.”

“What?”

“Smack me in the face. Right now.”

Your friend patted your back. “There there. I know it’s shocking but there’s no need to have a mental breakdown.”

Your eyes locked onto hers with a scarily blank expression. “I want you. To bitch slap me. As hard as you can.”

“What??”

“I will go ask Akaashi later to strip off his shirt- hell I will strip it myself.”

“Don’t touch my man!” Your friend exclaimed and slapped you across the face. You were slightly irritated that she did it in retaliation to your statement rather than for you but we move.

“OW,” a voice boomed from the court.

The referee blew his whistle. “Net touch.”

Bokuto had jumped and yelped as he felt a blow to his face, causing him to move a little too far forward and hit the net. He was currently holding his cheek, bewildered as a couple of his teammates told him off for the mistake.

“Bokuto, what the hell are you doing??”

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi had run over. “Perhaps you need to take a break?”

Your friend had hit you hard enough that there was a slight ringing in your ears and you were sure he could feel it too, judging by the dazed look on his face. There was another blow of the whistle and the coach called for a player change.

You watched as Bokuto held a cold towel to his face from his place at the sidelines. You noticed his hair had drooped from being subbed out.

“Are you okay? I think I hit you pretty hard.”

“No,” you said faintly and turned to look at your friend. “I am not okay.”

—----------------------------------------------------------

“Bokuto-san, that girl is staring at you again.”

The owlish boy glanced over to see you look at him with a hard stare.

“Aw, Akaashi, I’m sure she’s just a fan. After all, I’m pretty awesome.” He crossed his arms and smiled proudly.

“I’m concerned. She doesn’t exactly look happy. Did you do something?”

Bokuto scratched his head. “Er, I don't think so. She’s in our grade right?…did I do anything??”

Akaashi thought back to the past week and shook his head. He couldn’t think of Bokuto doing anything wild specifically to the girl.

“Maybe she likes me!”

“Bokuto-san, you have a soulmate.”

“Maybe she’s my soulmate!”

Akaashi’s eyes gave you a once over. “She doesn’t appear to have any of the injuries that match yours.”

Little did they know that you used cover-up concealer and sweaters after the many stares you used to receive. You tugged your knee-highs a bit higher up after noticing they were looking at you.

“Aw, there’s nothing wrong with Bokuto,” your friend whispered from beside you.

“He’s loud and the opposite of low-key. Plus I heard he wants to go pro. My life is going to be filled with PAIN.”

“You said you barely feel it anymore.”

“That doesn’t mean I like it! I’m not a masochist!”

“Maybe you should become one,” your friend said, suggestively.

“I hate you.”

“Excuse me?”

The both of you looked up with wide eyes as two large figures loomed in front of you.

“We were just wondering -”

“Did I do something to you??” Bokuto interrupted the setter.

“I-uh…” you were at a loss for words. Okay, so admittedly now he was up close, you admit Bokuto was quite handsome.

There was a tense silence as you struggled to find the right words before your friend threw her hands up.

“Oh for goodness sake.”

You yelped as she poked you in the side. Clutching your ribs, you glared at her and quickly walked away.

“Hope that answers your question!” She said cheerfully and ran after you.

Bokuto tilted his head. “I don’t understand.”

Akaashi thought for a moment before realisation dawned on his face.

“Oh.”

“What?? Tell me Akaashi, tell meeee -”

“She might be your soulmate.”

—----------------------------------------------------------

“Y/n.”

No.

“Y/n.”

You quickly walked down the hall and turned the corner.

“Y/n.”

A figure flashed past you and you bounced off a hard chest.

“Woah there,” Bokuto lifted both of his arms to steady you.

At your glare, he quickly dropped them.

“You're my- like you’re - Akaashi said - “ It was if he was trying to speak quicker than he could gather his thoughts.

You didn’t say anything, instead looked at him straight-faced and poked his side. You made a face as he groaned.

“Yep.”

“When did you find out??”

“Your last game,” you said, sighing. “A lot of things made sense. The bruises on my knees and elbows, the palms of my hands always stinging etc etc."

He made a sheepish face. “Oh. I never really considered that.”

“Are you serious??”

“I mean your palms! I tried to wear covers for my arms and wear leggings as well as knee pads to see if it would help you, but I guess it didn’t work out so well.”

Well at least he tried. It was kind of sweet that he did actually think of you when he could have been solely distracted with his sport.

“I don’t have many bruises though,” he frowned.

“Ah, that one’s on me. My skin is kinda sensitive. They look worse than they feel.”

He sagged his shoulders. “That’s a relief."

"Though," he continued. “You do owe me though.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“You broke your collarbone in fourth grade didn’t you?”

Your mouth opened and then closed. You indeed had fallen off your bike and had to wear a brace for a while.

He made a face. “I knew it! There was no way the door opening in my face broke my collarbone!”

You looked at him concerned. Did he honestly think that was what happened until now?

“I couldn’t play for weeks! I got made fun of so much!”

“Oh…sorry about that,” you glanced to the side, guiltily.

“But ya know.”

You looked at him to see a lopsided smile gracing his face.

“It’s worth it since it’s you.”

You stared at him speechless.

Bokuto gave you the biggest grin you’ve ever seen and pulled you into a bear hug.

“Ouch,” both of you winced at the contact.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said quickly. “Guess I better be a bit more careful now huh?” He looked at the ground and shifted, a bit embarrassed.

“Ya think,” you murmured, mimicking his movements.

You felt fingers tuck a strand of your hair back gently and looked up in surprise.

“If I promise to be more careful, do you think we can go out on a date sometime?”

You gazed into bright eyes, sparkling with happiness and teeth bit into a lower lip in anticipation. For the first time, nothing in your body ached and a soft warmth spread throughout you.

Your lips pursed before they curved up into a small smile.

“I’d like that.”

—----------------------------------------------------------

Bonus:

“Akaashi, can you take your shirt off?”

“Pardon me?” The tall boy looked at you bewildered.

“Hey!” Bokuto protested from beside you with a betrayed expression.

“One moment Kou.”

“Just lift up your shirt please.”

Your friend was practically buzzing beside you. Akaashi looked a bit scared as he lifted up his shirt.

“And turn.”

He obeyed, hesitantly, and your friend made a disappointed sound.

When he looked mildly offended at what he thought was a reaction to his body, you clarified, “Ah we were looking for a tattoo of a violet.”

Akaashi’s eyes widened

“Oh, Akaashi, don't you have one on your thigh?” Bokuto questioned his friend.

There was a faint blush on the boy’s cheeks and Akaashi slightly pulled up one of his pant legs. Sure enough, the flower was etched onto the skin there.

Your friend punched the air triumphantly.

“I told you so!”

#haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu fluff #akaashi keiji #akaashi fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#liv.reblogs<3

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