↳Ft. Akaashi, Bokuto and Kuroo || Akaashi was focused in his studies until Bokuto and Kuroo came in teasing him, what ever will Akaashi do?..
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Tension Rants
↳Ft. Kenma and Kuroo || Kenma is playing on his videogames while kuroo goes on his stupid rants about things he doesn’t care for, like cat bones. Kuroo starts to notice how pretty kenma looks during his rant, and stops to give him a ‘small’ prize for winning.
Aoba Johsai High
Sorry Nothing here yet!
Inarizaki High
Sorry nothing here!
Shiratorizawa Academy
Perfectly Imperfect | Tw: Self image issues, Mentions of not eating but no ED
↳Ft. Ushijima, Fem!Reader / You || You’ve always been a little insecure, covering it up with small jokes but your boyfriend, Ushijima Wakatoshi, notices more than anyone else ever has
Fukurodani Academy
Perverted Studies
↳Ft. Akaashi, Bokuto and Kuroo || Akaashi was focused in his studies until Bokuto and Kuroo came in teasing him, what ever will Akaashi do?..
Summary: kageyama, who is used to no one showing up for his games, gets a complete shock to see you up in the crowds, and completely whiffs his serve(loser)
Wc: 1085
A/n: hate it. Thats all :) im still not sure if i like the new divider.also i found it on pin so thats why i haven’t credited anyone. Theres still so much stuff in my notes app it’s so annoying omd.
Enjoy!
The roar of the crowd in the packed arena pressed in on Tobio Kageyama like a familiar weight—sharp, focused, demanding. Timeskip or not, some things never changed. He stood at the service line, volleyball tucked under his arm, eyes narrowed on the court ahead. The score was tight, the third set hanging by a thread. One good serve could shift everything.
He bounced the ball once. Twice. The ritual grounded him, the same way it had since middle school. But today, something felt… off. A hollow ache flickered in his chest as his mind drifted, unbidden, to memories he usually shoved deep down.
“Tobio, you have a match this weekend?” His mother’s voice, distant even back then. “We’ll try, okay?” They never came. Not to the youth tournaments, not to the Interhighs, not even when he made it to nationals. His sister had her own life. His father was always “busy.” Every time he scanned the stands as a kid, hoping—just once—to see a familiar face cheering for him, the seats stayed empty. It taught him early: rely on no one but yourself. Volleyball was enough. It had to be.
Kageyama exhaled sharply, pushing the thoughts away. He tossed the ball up, arm swinging back for that signature king’s serve—
And then he saw you.
There, in the stands just behind the referee’s chair, wearing the team colors like you’d planned it all along. You weren’t supposed to be here. You’d said work was brutal this week, that the travel might not work out. He hadn’t pushed. He never pushed. But there you were, hands cupped around your mouth, eyes locked on him with that bright, unwavering smile that always made his chest feel too tight.
You came.
The ball slipped from his fingers mid-swing. It thudded uselessly against the court, rolling out of bounds. A missed serve. The crowd groaned. His teammates glanced over, surprised—Kageyama didn’t miss serves. Not like this.
He stood frozen, heart hammering against his ribs. You actually came. The words looped in his head, louder than the announcer’s voice calling a timeout. For a split second, the arena blurred. All those empty seats from his past flashed behind his eyes, replaced by you. The one person who showed up without being asked twice. Who texted him good luck even when he forgot to reply. Who understood the quiet, obsessive parts of him that volleyball had carved out.
“Oi, Kageyama!” Someone called—probably Hoshiumi—but he barely heard it. His cheeks burned. He shook his head once, hard, and forced himself back into the game. They still won. Of course they did. His team was stacked: Ushijima’s brutal spikes, Hoshiumi’s relentless energy, the others feeding off their rhythm. Kageyama poured everything into the remaining points, setting like his life depended on it. But his mind kept drifting to the stands.
When the final whistle blew and the victory cheers erupted, Kageyama didn’t join the usual huddle right away. His eyes scanned the sidelines, searching. There—you were waiting off to the side, out of the main bleacher flow, looking a little shy amid the chaos but so unmistakably there.
He didn’t think. He just ran.
His shoes squeaked against the polished floor as he broke into a full sprint, ignoring the sweat dripping down his back and the way his teammates paused mid-celebration. You turned at the sound of his approach, eyes widening.
“Kageyama—?”
He crashed into you without slowing, arms wrapping around your waist like you might vanish if he didn’t hold on tight enough. The hug was fierce, almost desperate—his face buried in the crook of your neck, inhaling the familiar scent of you that cut through the arena smells of rubber and sweat. Then he pulled back just enough to cup your face with both hands, thumbs brushing your cheeks, and kissed you. Hard. Right there, in front of everyone. No hesitation, no cool detachment. Just raw, overwhelming relief.
“You— you came,” he blurted as soon as he broke the kiss, words tumbling out faster than he could control. His voice cracked, just a little, the emotion he usually buried spilling over. “I didn’t think— I mean, you said work, and the train, and I told myself it was fine, like always, but you’re here. You actually showed up. For me. I saw you right before the serve and I just— I couldn’t even think straight. All those times before, no one ever… but you did. You’re here.”
His forehead pressed against yours, breaths coming quick and uneven. Up close, you could see the shine in his eyes—not tears, exactly, but something close. The great King of the Court, reduced to a boy who’d carried too much loneliness for too long.
“I’m so glad,” he whispered, the words fierce and soft all at once. “Thank you. I… I don’t say it enough, but having you here… it means everything.”
You hugged him back just as tightly, murmuring reassurances into his shoulder. The noise of the arena faded into background static.
A few feet away, Wakatoshi Ushijima stood with his arms crossed, watching the scene with his usual stoic expression—though one eyebrow had risen slightly. Beside him, Korai Hoshiumi bounced on his heels, mouth agape.
“Is that… Kageyama?” Hoshiumi muttered, half-laughing in disbelief. “Running? Hugging? Kissing? In public? I thought his face was permanently set to ‘annoyed setter mode.’”
Ushijima nodded slowly. “It is unusual. He rarely displays emotion so openly. Even after big wins, he is… reserved.”
“Reserved? The guy looks like he just won the lottery and might cry about it.” Hoshiumi elbowed his teammate lightly. “Think his girlfriend’s got some kind of magic? Or did we all enter an alternate universe during that timeout?”
A faint, rare smile tugged at Ushijima’s lips. “Perhaps both. It is… good to see. Emotions make a player human. Even Kageyama.”
Hoshiumi snorted. “Weird as hell, but yeah. Kinda nice. Don’t tell him I said that.”
Kageyama didn’t notice their conversation. He was too busy holding you, murmuring more quiet thank-yous against your hair, the missed serve long forgotten. The past aches felt smaller now, softened by the warmth of your arms around him. For the first time in a long while, the stands weren’t empty. You were here, and that changed everything.
Later, as the team filtered out, he kept your hand in his—fingers laced tight, a small, private smile on his face that he didn’t even try to hide. The king had finally found someone who made showing up feel like winning.
Daichi’s type of obsession is "protection." He treats you like a fragile prize that needs to be locked in a vault.
He’s documented every person who has ever been rude to you or looked at you too long. When he finally corners you, his voice is terrifyingly calm.
"I told you it wasn't safe out there (Y/N). You don’t need to worry about those people anymore. I’ve taken care of them. From now on, you stay with me. It’s for your own good right?"
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･
Sugawara Koushi
The vice captain of Karasuno is a master of gaslighting. He sabotages your other relationships so that you don't even realize he’s the cause.
He wants you to believe he is the only person in the world who truly loves you. He’ll hold you while you cry over a "lost" friend, with a sweet, sickening smile on his face.
"There there... they didn't deserve you anyway. Everyone leaves eventually, but not me. I’m the only one who stays. You see that now, don't you?"
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･
Azumane Asahi
He is a "emotional" yandere. He’s terrified of his own but even more terrified of you leaving him.
He follows you in the dark, watching from the distance. If he catches you trying to pull away, he breaks down, his massive frame trembling as he blocks your exit.
"Please don't look at me like I'm a monster. I only did it because I love you. If you leave, I don't know what I'll do to myself... or to the person you're leaving me for."
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･
Nishinoya Yuu
Nishinoya is aggressive and territorial. He doesn't hide his obsession, he broadcasts it. He guards you, but his protection turns into a prison.
He picks fights with anyone who breathes in your direction.
"I saw him touch your shoulder. He won't be using that hand for a while. Don't look so scared. I’m doing this for us! No one gets to touch what belongs to me."
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･
Tanaka Ryuunosuke
Similar to Noya, but with a more intimidating, silent edge when he's serious. He spends his nights outside your window, making sure you’re "safe."
He’s started keeping trophies like a hair tie you dropped, a pen you used.
"I kept the sweater you 'lost' last week. It still smells like you. I sleep with it every night. It’s almost as good as having the real thing... but soon, I won't have to pretend."
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･
Hinata Shoyo
His obsession is bright and exhausting. He wants 100% of your attention, 100% of the time.
If you’re talking to someone else, he’ll physically wedge himself between you. His "sunny" act turns cold the second you try to say no to him.
"Why are you looking at the scoreboard? Look at me! I’m the one winning for you! If you keep looking at other people, I'll have to make sure you can't look at anything at all... except me."
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･
Kageyama Tobio
Kageyama views you as a prize to be won and kept. He is blunt and possessive.
He doesn't understand boundaries. He only understands his own need to have you by his side. He tracks your location via your phone without you knowing.
"I checked your messages. You're meeting someone after school? No, you're not. I already told them you're busy with me."
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･
Tsukishima Kei
The intellectual stalker. He knows your schedule better than you do. He uses his words to tear down your self esteem until you feel like you're "lucky" to have him.
He records your conversations, listening back to them in the dark to analyze your tone.
"You really think you could survive without me? You’re so pathetic, (Y/N). It’s a good thing I’m here to watch over you. Now sit down. I’ve already blocked their number from your phone. You don't need them."
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･
Yamaguchi Tadashi
Yamaguchi plays the role of the "loyal shadow." He’s the person you trust because he seems so harmless, but he uses that trust to dismantle your life from the inside.
He doesn't want to hurt you, he wants to make the world so scary and lonely that you have no choice but to hide behind him.
He’s the one who "accidentally" hears secrets and spreads them, the one who "loses" your phone so you can't call for help, and the one who is always there to give you a shoulder to cry on once he’s finished ruining your day.
"It’s okay to cry (Y/N). I’m the only one left, aren't I? Everyone else gave up on you so easily, but I’m still here. I’ll always be here. I'll be your whole world."
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･
Author's Note: If you like these scenarios make sure to check my yandere!haikyuu x reader book!
; how karasuno boys and girls fell for you at first sight.
#1 sawamura daichi
daichi was the rock of karasuno. he was steady, immovable, and immune to chaos. at least, he was until you tripped over your own shoelaces in the hallway and accidentally headbutted his chest.
he didn’t even stumble. he just caught you by the elbows, steadying you with that practiced, reliable captain energy. but when you looked up to apologize—cheeks heating up, eyes wide, and a stray bit of hair sticking to your lip—daichi’s brain legitimately short-circuited. it was like a fuse blew behind his eyes.
you were gorgeous. you smelled like vanilla and actual sunshine. for three business days (read: five seconds), daichi just stared at you, his grip on your arms tightening just a fraction too much. he suddenly felt like he was handling a delicate piece of glass, and his heart was beating so hard against his ribs he was convinced you could hear it. you shifted on your feet, rubbing the back of your neck with a breathless little laugh that made him want to build you a house with his bare hands.
he cleared his throat, his voice coming out a octave lower than usual. he didn’t let go of your arms.
“i... i need to be transparent with you,” daichi said, his expression so dead-serious you thought you were getting a lecture. “my heart just did a flip, and i’m not a guy who flips. i know we don’t know each other, but you’re the most beautiful person i have ever seen. please, let me take you out. give me one chance to show you i’m worth keeping around?”
#2 sugawara kōshi
sugawara was watching you from across the courtyard. you were trying to get a stray kitten down from a low tree branch, standing on your tiptoes, making soft, encouraging ‘ming ming ming’ noises.
the angle of the sun, the gentle breeze blowing your uniform, the sheer kindness radiating off you—it hit suga like a physical truck. he clutched his chest, leaning against the brick wall. ‘oh, no,’ he thought, his smile turning a little dazed. ‘i’m in so much trouble. i’m going to marry this girl.’
he didn’t hesitate. he was the king of bold moves. he walked over, smoothly reached up to scoop the kitten down, and handed it to you. when your fingers brushed his, a visible spark of electricity seemed to pass between you. you looked up at him, your eyes sparkling with pure gratitude, and suga felt his knees go weak. you were even prettier up close. you bit your lip, looking at him with a soft, shy smile that told him you weren’t immune to him, either.
suga leaned in a little closer, his eyes crinkling with that trademark, mischievous sweetness.
“well, now that i’ve played the hero, i think it’s only fair i get a reward,” he hummed, though his heart was hammering like a drum in his ears. “how about a coffee date? i promise i’m even more charming when i’m not sweating from holding a cat. just give me one chance to sweep you off your feet, okay?”
#3 azumane asahi
asahi was convinced he was having a heart attack. you were a library assistant, and he had sheepishly walked up to the counter to ask where the poetry section was (he was feeling sensitive that day).
when you looked up from your book, pushed up your glasses, and gave him the softest, most welcoming smile he had ever seen, asahi’s soul practically left his body. you didn’t flinch at his size or his man-bun. in fact, your eyes softened with genuine warmth as you took in his flustered face, finding it completely endearing.
you got up to lead him to the aisle. asahi followed you like a lost puppy, breathing in the scent of old paper and your perfume. he was yearning. he watched the way your hands gently traced the spines of the books, and he decided right then and there that he would read every book in this library if it meant seeing you every day.
when you turned around to hand him a book, your eyes met. you were biting back a smile, clearly charmed by his nervous giant energy. asahi swallowed hard, clutching the book to his chest like a shield.
“um... excuse me!” he squeaked, his voice cracking slightly. he looked down, his face bright red, before forcing himself to look back at you. “i-i know this is crazy, because i just met you, but... you’re so incredibly lovely. i’m terrified right now, but i’d be even more terrified of never seeing you again. could i... please take you out? i’ll be on my absolute best behavior, i swear!”
#4 nishinoya yū
noya was practicing receives in the gym when a stray ball flew toward the entrance. you happened to be walking by the open doors, and you casually reached out and caught the spinning ball with one hand, blinking in surprise.
time stopped. noya just fell in love.
he slid on his knees across the gym floor, stopping right at your feet. he looked up at you with eyes full of pure, unfiltered adoration. you were holding the volleyball to your chest, giggling at his dramatic entrance, your eyes crinkling at the corners. to noya, you looked like a goddess descending from the heavens to bless him with your presence. you were pretty, you were cute, and you just caught a ball effortlessly.
he didn’t care who was watching. he was on a mission. he grabbed your free hand, holding it between both of his like it was a sacred relic.
“you’re the absolute queen of my universe!” noya shouted, his voice echoing in the gym. he wasn’t playing around; his eyes were dead serious and full of intense yearning. “my heart belongs to you now! i don’t care if i have to climb mount fuji or swim across the ocean, please give me just one chance to prove i can be the ultimate man for you! what do you say?!”
#5 tanaka ryūnosuke
tanaka was walking down the street, loud and boisterous as usual, talking to nishinoya. then, he saw you. you were sitting on a bench, laughing at something on your phone, holding a melting ice cream cone.
tanaka froze mid-sentence. his jaw dropped. his heart did a full gymnastics routine. you were the most gorgeous creature to ever grace the earth. the way your nose crinkled when you laughed made tanaka want to cry tears of pure joy.
he immediately slapped noya across the chest to shut him up, straightened his jacket, and walked over to you. as he approached, you looked up. for a second, tanaka panicked, but then you smiled at him—a real, genuine, slightly shy smile that made his soul ascend. you thought he looked handsome and intense.
tanaka took a deep breath. he didn’t yell. he didn’t take off his shirt. he knelt down on one knee next to the bench, looking at you with a sincerity that was almost painful.
“listen,” tanaka said, his voice surprisingly soft but fiercely intense. “i know i look like a delinquent, and you don’t know me at all. but seeing you just now... it changed my whole life. you’re a masterpiece. please, let me take you out on a date. i’ll treat you like the absolute royalty you are. just give me one shot!”
#6 ennoshita chikara
ennoshita was sitting in the corner of a quiet cafe, trying to study. he was stressed, tired, and definitely not looking for romance. then, you sat down at the table next to him.
you were struggling to open a stubborn bag of chips, making a series of cute, determined faces. ennoshita found himself putting his pen down, completely captivated. when the bag finally burst open, sending a few chips flying, you let out a soft huff and looked around to see if anyone noticed.
your eyes met his. you gave him an embarrassed, sheepish grin, dusting off your shirt. ennoshita felt a warmth bloom in his chest that had absolutely nothing to do with his hot coffee. you were adorable. your eyes were kind, and your laugh (even a self-deprecating one) was music to his ears.
he chuckled softly, picking up a stray chip that landed on his table and holding it out to you. you smiled, taking it, and the brief brush of fingers sent a thrill right up his spine.
“you know,” ennoshita said, leaning forward on his elbows, his calm exterior belied by the slight tremor in his hands. “i was having a terrible day of studying, but seeing you just completely turned it around. this might be bold of me, but... i’d really like to get to know the girl who fights chip bags. would you let me buy you a proper lunch sometime? i promise to be good company.”
#7 kinoshita hisashi
kinoshita was at the convenience store, trying to decide between two different flavors of snacks. you were standing next to him, humming softly to yourself as you browsed the candy aisle.
he glanced over at you, and his brain simply ceased all function. you were wearing an oversized sweater that covered your hands, and you had a concentrated little frown on your face as you compared chocolate bars. kinoshita felt a wave of affection so strong it actually made him dizzy.
you noticed him staring and offered a small, friendly smile. “the strawberry one is better,” you said, pointing to the snack in his hand.
kinoshita blinked. “i... i think i’m in love with you,” he blurted out.
the silence that followed was heavy. your eyes widened, and a small, stunned smile began to play at the corners of your mouth. kinoshita realized what he said and frantically started waving his hands.
“wait! no! i mean—yes, i do think that, but i didn’t mean to say it out loud!” kinoshita groaned, wanting to bury himself in the snack aisle. but then he saw you giggling, trying to hide your laugh in your sweater. he took a brave breath. “okay, let me restart. you’re incredibly cute, and your recommendation just saved my night. can i please take you out to thank you? i’m usually much less awkward, i promise!”
#8 narita kazuhito
narita was helping out at his family’s shop when you walked in. you were looking for a specific type of cleaning supply and looked utterly lost.
he walked over to help you. when you turned to face him, asking your question in a soft, polite voice, narita felt the ground shift beneath his feet. you had the kindest eyes he had ever seen. up close, he could see the light reflecting in them, and he suddenly wanted to know everything about you.
he helped you find what you needed, walking you to the register. he was trying so hard to act normal, but his heart was pounding in his throat. he noticed you looking at him too, your eyes lingering on his tall frame and gentle smile with clear interest.
as he handed you your change, his fingers lingered against yours. he didn’t want you to leave.
“um, excuse me,” narita said, keeping his voice low and steady despite the chaos in his chest. “i know this is work, and i should be professional. but you’re genuinely the most beautiful girl to walk into this shop. i’d really regret it if i didn’t ask... could i have your number? i’d love to take you out for dinner. just one chance to make you smile again?”
#9 kageyama tobio
kageyama didn’t understand feelings. he understood volleyball. volleyball made sense. you, standing by the vending machine struggling to get a paper bill into the slot, did not make sense.
he was walking by, intending to get his milk, when he stopped to help you. he flattened the bill for you and slotted it in. when you turned to thank him, looking up at him with big, grateful eyes and a dazzling smile, kageyama’s brain experienced a critical 404 error.
he didn’t know why his chest felt tight. he didn’t know why his face was burning. he just knew that you were looking at him, and you weren’t scared of his scowl, and you were holding a milk carton (his favorite!). you ducked your head under his intense gaze, offering him a sip with a small, hesitant smile that only made his heart beat faster.
he stood there, towering over you, looking incredibly fierce but internally panicking. he grabbed your shoulders, making you squeak in surprise.
“you!” kageyama grunted, his face dark red. “you’re... very pretty. and you like milk. i don’t know how to do this, but i want to spend more time with you. it’s like my heart is doing a quick-attack whenever i look at you. please... give me a chance to take you to a cafe. don’t say no!”
#10 hinata shōyō
hinata was chasing a stray volleyball outside the gym when he crashed right into you. you both tumbled to the grass in a tangle of limbs.
hinata groaned, shaking his head. when he opened his eyes, he was hovering directly over you. your hair was spread out on the grass, your expression fractured into pure surprise, and you were looking at him with wide, shocked eyes.
to hinata, it was like the sun had just risen right in front of him. you were radiant. you were sparkling. he felt a physical pull in his chest, a desperate, overwhelming need to make you laugh and keep you close to him forever.
he didn’t get up. he just stayed there, propped up on his forearms, staring down at you with pure, unfiltered adoration. you, realizing how close his handsome face was, you went momentarily breathless, your gaze dropping instinctively to his lips.
“whoa...” hinata breathed, his voice filled with awe. “you’re like... a giant burst of sunshine! i think my heart just exploded! i know i just crushed you, but please let me make it up to you! let’s go get meat buns! let me take you out! please, please, please give me a chance to be your boyfriend!”
#11 tsukishima kei
tsukishima prided himself on being detached. he didn’t do “feelings” or “yearning.” he was at the music store, browsing vinyl records, when he saw you in the same aisle.
you were holding a record of his absolute favorite, obscure indie band. you were quietly humming along to the music playing in your headphones, doing a tiny, adorable sway on your feet.
tsukishima felt a sudden, sharp pang in his chest. he took in your focused expression, the way you bit your lip as you read the tracklist, and the sheer, unadulterated cuteness of your little movement. he was a goner. he felt exposed, his cool exterior melting away faster than he could stop it.
you looked up and noticed him looking. instead of getting intimidated by his height or his bored expression, you smiled lightly and held up the record. “they’re amazing, right?” you asked.
tsukishima swallowed hard. his heart was betraying him. he adjusted his glasses, looking away to hide the blush creeping up his neck.
“they’re okay, i guess,” he muttered, before taking a deep breath and looking back at you, his gaze surprisingly soft. “but you... you have good taste. and you’re incredibly distracting. i don’t usually do this, but... would you want to grab a coffee and talk about this album? i’d really like a chance to get to know you. if you’ll have me.”
#12 yamaguchi tadashi
yamaguchi was walking behind tsukishima when he saw you. you were sitting on the steps of the school, holding a green umbrella to shield yourself from a sudden light drizzle, reading a book.
yamaguchi stopped dead in his tracks. tsukishima kept walking, but yamaguchi couldn’t move. you looked like a literal angel. the soft light of the rainy day hit your face perfectly, highlighting your features.
when you looked up and saw him standing there, holding his bag tightly, you smiled. it wasn’t a pity smile; it was a warm, welcoming smile. you patted the dry spot on the step next to you under your umbrella, offering to share.
yamaguchi’s heart did a violent flip. he walked over, sitting down tentatively. the scent of rain and your perfume was intoxicating. you were looking at his freckles with a soft, admiring gaze that made him melt.
he knew he had to be brave. for you, he could be brave. he turned to you, his hands shaking slightly, but his eyes full of a fierce, desperate yearning.
“um... excuse me!” yamaguchi whispered, his voice trembling. “i-i know i’m just a random guy sharing your umbrella. but you’re the most beautiful person i have ever met. my heart is beating so fast right now. please... could i have a chance to take you out on a proper date? i promise i’ll make you as happy as you just made me!”
coach ; ukai keishin
ukai was leaning against the counter of 坂ノ下商店 (sakanoshita) store, yawning and thinking about what to have for dinner. then the bell chimed. you walked in, looking a little windswept and breathless, asking if he had any umbrellas left because the rain had just started.
he froze. he was holding a cigarette (unlit, thankfully), and he actually dropped it. you were radiant—even with damp hair sticking to your forehead, you had this warmth that made the small, dusty store feel like a five-star resort. you gave him a sheepish smile when you saw the dropped cigarette, and ukai felt his heart do a vertical jump that would make hinata jealous. he was down bad. he wanted to close the shop right then and there just so he could talk to you forever.
he fumbled under the counter, pulling out his own sturdy, personal umbrella and shoving it toward you.
“forget the cheap ones, take this,” ukai said, his voice a little raspier than usual as he stared at you with wide, yearning eyes. he rubbed the back of his neck, his face heating up. “look, i don’t do the whole ‘love at first sight’ thing, but i think you just broke my brain. i’m ukai keishin. please, let me walk you home under this? and maybe... give me a chance to take you out when it’s not raining? i’m begging here, honestly.”
advisor ; takeda ittetsu
takeda was at a bookstore, perched on a ladder trying to reach a volume of classical poetry. he slipped. he expected to hit the floor, but instead, he felt a pair of steady hands catch his shoulders. he looked down and saw you—looking up with a worried, sweet expression that made his glasses fog up instantly.
“are you alright?” you asked, your voice like a soft melody.
takeda felt like he’d been struck by a literary epiphany. you were the personification of every beautiful metaphor he’d ever read. he climbed down, his knees knocking together, and he couldn’t stop looking at you. you were so kind, so grounded, and so incredibly lovely that he felt his soul vibrating. he took a deep breath, clutching his book to his chest like a shield, his eyes shining with a desperate, scholarly devotion.
“i believe i’ve just experienced a moment of profound cosmic shift,” takeda whispered, his voice trembling with sincerity. he stepped closer, looking at you with such raw admiration you couldn’t help but blush. “literature cannot describe how beautiful you are. i know we’re strangers, but would you allow me the honor of a cup of tea? i feel as though if i let you walk away, i’ll be missing the best chapter of my life. please, give me a chance?”
manager ; kiyoko shimizu
kiyoko was used to people staring at her, but she rarely stared back—until you. you were a volunteer at a tournament, diligently organizing water bottles and laughing with a group of kids.
it wasn’t just your looks (though you were breathtaking); it was the way you moved with such grace and genuine kindness. kiyoko felt a sharp, sudden tug in her chest that she’d never felt before. the world around the court went quiet. she watched you tuck a stray hair back, and she felt a fierce, protective yearning wash over her. when you noticed her and offered a small, shy wave, kiyoko felt a rare, genuine blush creep up her neck.
she walked straight over to you, her expression calm but her eyes burning with an intensity that made your breath hitch. she reached out, gently straightening your volunteer lanyard.
“you’re working very hard,” kiyoko said, her voice soft but incredibly steady. she didn’t look away, her gaze locked onto yours with a beautiful, heavy sincerity. “i’m usually pretty focused on what i need to do, but... i’ve been having a hard time keeping my eyes off you today. if you’re free after practice, let’s go grab a meat bun or some ice cream. i’d really like to be the one making you smile for a change.”
manager ; yachi hitoka
yachi was trying to carry a giant stack of posters through the hallway when she rounded a corner and walked right into you. posters flew everywhere like confetti. yachi immediately began her usual “i’m so sorry, please don’t kill me, i’m just a lowly villager b” routine, bowing so fast her head was a blur.
then she felt your hand on her shoulder. “hey, it’s okay! it was an accident,” you said, giggling as you knelt down to help her.
yachi looked up, and the “villager b” internal monologue died. you were an angel. you were a protagonist. you were the most jaw dropping person yachi had ever seen in her entire life. your smile was so bright she literally put her hand up to shield her eyes for a second. she felt a surge of affection towards yoj so strong she thought she might pass out. you handed her a poster, your fingers brushing hers, and yachi’s face turned the color of a ripe tomato.
“w-w-w-whoa!” yachi squeaked, her heart thumping like a jackhammer. she grabbed your hand before you could pull away, her eyes wide and watery with pure, sweet desperation. “you’re so sparkly! i think i’m in love! no, i know i am! i know i’m a mess and i’m shaking, but please, please don’t go! can i buy you a juice? or a house? just give me one chance to show you i can be a cool person for you?!”
→ the taxi’s next route is to aoba johsai, get in!
n: i feel like i’m being repetitive ?? maybe ?? idk, but the format is decided to be like that.
│ written in celebration of takeda ittetsu’s birthday (january 10)
──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────
you don’t tell him where you’re going.
he doesn’t ask.
Takeda sits in the passenger seat, hands folded neatly in his lap, shoulders a little tense in that sweet way he gets when he’s excited but doesn’t want to assume anything. every few minutes, he glances at you — small, shy looks, the corners of his mouth lifting like he can’t quite suppress a smile.
he thinks you’re taking him to dinner. or to a café. or maybe a really pretty scenic overlook.
he has no idea what you’ve planned.
when you turn into the parking lot, his breath catches.
he stares through the windshield, wide-eyed, at the enormous museum building rising in front of him.
“…this museum,” he whispers. he turns to you, blinking rapidly. “this one? really?”
you nod, trying not to grin.
he swallows.
“i’ve only ever come here as a teacher. i’ve never— i mean— I always wanted to, just as a visitor, but… I was always with students, so it was—”
he stops himself before he rambles too much, but his face gives away everything. the yearning. the disbelief. the little spark of joy trying to break through his shock.
“come on,” you say softly. “i’ve been wanting to bring you.”
you reach into the console and pull out the two VIP passes.
he freezes again.
“VIP?”
his voice cracks on the second syllable.
“(Y/N)… no… really? we can’t— how did you—”
you just take his hand and lead him toward the entrance.
inside, the museum is warm and golden-lit, quieter than usual on a weekday afternoon. Takeda walks slowly at first, almost reverently, eyes darting from ceiling to walls to displays like he’s afraid he’ll miss something if he blinks.
he stops at the first exhibit — a towering fossil reconstruction — and his mouth falls open, just a little.
he doesn’t say anything for a moment.
he just looks.
really looks.
then:
“i… didn’t realize it was this detailed. when I chaperoned, I never got close enough. I was too busy counting students.”
he laughs at himself, soft and breathy. “I don’t think I’ve ever stood still in here before.”
you watch him — the awe blooming across his face, the way his shoulders loosen, the way he leans forward to read every plaque. this isn’t the polite interest he usually shows his students.
this is wonder.
and it’s beautiful.
he points something out to you — a little artifact in glass — and starts rambling quietly about its time period, historical context, theories behind its design. halfway through, he realizes he’s rambling and flushes, rubbing the back of his neck.
“s-sorry, I got carried aw—”
“don’t apologize,” you say immediately. “i love hearing you talk.”
he goes pink to the ears.
the VIP portion begins, and a staff member leads you through a side hallway marked authorized personnel only. Takeda nearly levitates. he keeps stealing glances at you like you conjured this entire day from magic.
the two of you stand in a conservation room, watching experts restore pieces that won’t be displayed for months. Takeda keeps whispering “I didn’t even know this existed” under his breath. he leans closer without ever touching the glass, respectful and enchanted.
his eyes sparkle — actually sparkle — and you realize this is the version of him hardly anyone gets to see.
the version that isn’t stressed.
isn’t performing.
isn’t managing thirty teenagers.
isn’t overthinking.
just ittetsu.
curious and bright and deeply, genuinely happy.
you find a bench overlooking a floor-to-ceiling mural, and he sits beside you slowly, still processing.
he holds the small gift shop bag in his hands — the one containing the miniature replica you bought him when he lingered at the display a little too long but pretended he didn’t want it.
he runs a thumb over the top of the bag, lips parted in something soft and reverent.
“thank you,” he says, voice low. he looks at you with a sincerity that hits you square in the chest. “no one has ever… taken me somewhere like this. not for me. not just to let me enjoy something.”
you lean your head against his shoulder.
“you deserve days like this,” you murmur. “things that make you feel curious. excited. alive.”
he exhales shakily — not sad, not overwhelmed, just… full.
eventually, he threads his fingers through yours.
“i didn’t realize,” he admits slowly, “how much I missed feeling like this. you gave that to me today.”
you turn your hand to lace your fingers tighter with his.
“happy birthday, ittetsu.”
he blushes — softly, beautifully — and presses a tender kiss to your knuckles.
“this was perfect,” he whispers. “absolutely perfect.”
and when he looks back at the mural, eyes bright, posture relaxed, you know you’ll remember this version of him forever —
the man who finally got to be a little bit of the child he never had time to be.
│ written in celebration of shimizu kiyoko’s birthday (january 6)
──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────
you meet her after work, the winter air crisp around you both as she slips her hand into yours. her fingers are cold, but her grip is steady, warm in a way that lives deeper than temperature. she doesn’t say where you’re going. she just gives your hand a small squeeze, tilts her head toward a side street, and says softly, “walk with me?”
you follow her through narrow residential roads, past shuttered shops and quiet porches and the dim gold spill of streetlamps. she walks a little slower than usual, not because she’s tired, but because she’s thinking— deciding how to open something she’s kept closed for years.
eventually, the buildings thin out. the street slopes downward. the sound of rushing water grows louder.
she leads you to a riverbank — not a popular one, not the polished walking path you’ve seen on postcards. this is quieter. wilder. lined with winter-bare trees and thick patches of grass flattened by frost. the river glints silver under the cold evening light.
Kiyoko steps onto a worn patch of earth, one that looks like a person has sat there hundreds of times but never left anything behind.
she exhales, almost a sigh.
“i used to come here a lot,” she says, hands tucked into her coat sleeves. “back when I was younger.”
you wait. not pushing. not asking.
just giving her the silence she needs.
she kneels, brushing aside a stray leaf with her fingertips, then sits. you sit beside her, close enough that your knees touch. she keeps her eyes on the river, watching the water move like it’s carrying her memories downstream.
“when I was in middle school,” she begins, voice quiet but steady, “I didn’t really… talk to anyone. not the way people expected me to. they always said I looked calm. confident. that I didn’t seem like I needed anything.”
she wraps her arms around herself lightly, not in discomfort — in memory.
“but I did. I just didn’t know how to ask for it.”
the river murmurs softly. you shift closer, letting your shoulder brush hers. she doesn’t shy away.
“when things got overwhelming,” she continues, “I would come here after class. sit for an hour. sometimes two. I liked the sound of the water. it made me feel… grounded. like I wasn’t going to disappear if I didn’t hold myself together perfectly.”
her voice thins at the edges — not breaking, but unraveling in a slow, intentional way she trusts you enough to allow.
you touch the back of her hand. she turns her palm upward immediately, threading her fingers through yours.
“no one ever came here with me,” she says. “not then. not in high school. not even after.”
she pauses, swallowing softly.
“but I wanted to bring you.”
your heart stutters, warm and aching. this is Kiyoko — composed, precise, self-contained — choosing to show you something vulnerable, something young inside her. a part of her she learned to protect by hiding.
you shift a little so she can lean into you, and she does, gently resting her shoulder against yours, her hair brushing your cheek as the river glitters faintly beyond you both.
“thank you for spending my birthday like this,” she murmurs. “I don’t like loud celebrations. I never have.” she turns her head, eyes soft in the fading light. “but this… feels right.”
you lift her hand to your lips, kissing her fingers one by one. she blushes, subtle and lovely, the kind of color that appears slowly and honestly.
“you deserve a birthday that feels like you,” you whisper. “not something loud. not something overwhelming. just something real.”
her expression melts — quiet affection, quiet gratitude, quiet something-more that she doesn’t have to name for you to understand.
she rests her forehead against your shoulder, voice warm and low.
“I’ve never shared this place with anyone. not until now. I want you to remember that.”
you slip your arm around her waist, pulling her closer into the warmth of your body in the cold evening air. she lets out a breath, soft and steady, the kind she only ever breathes when she feels safe.
the two of you sit until the sky turns a muted violet, river sighing gently in front of you, her fingers laced with yours the entire time.
a birthday that belongs only to her —
and now, to you too.
──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────
sorry i know its super late, happy belated birthday kiyoko!
(timeskip era, fluff, chaos, crack, comedy)
│ written in celebration of asahi azumane’s birthday (january 1)
──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────
asahi steps outside with that soft, half-awake smile he always has in the mornings. the air is cool, quiet, gentle — the kind of morning he loves. the kind he thinks the two of you are about to enjoy together. he turns to you, warm and easy, and opens his mouth to say something sweet.
and then he notices them.
two figures standing on the sidewalk like they were spawned from pure mischief.
sugawara koushi, smiling with the calm intensity of a man who absolutely should not be trusted.
and nishinoya yuu, vibrating — literally vibrating — looking like he drank way too much espresso again.
asahi freezes.
“…uh. good morning?”
suga tilts his head, smile widening unnaturally.
“oh, it’s a very good morning.”
noya cracks his knuckles, eyes blazing.
“ASAHIIII! HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOTHERFUC—”
suga slaps a hand over noya’s mouth mid-“fucker,” resulting in “HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOTH—mmmph!!” echoing violently into his palm.
asahi flinches like he’s under attack.
“W-WHAT?? WHY ARE YOU BOTH HERE?? WHAT’S HAPPENING??”
you step up beside him, smiling way too sweetly for someone about to commit a felony.
“asahi,” you say gently, patting his arm, “don’t freak out.”
“WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT, THAT MAKES ME WANT TO FREAK OUT MORE—”
“phase one,” sugawara says to noya ominously, ignoring asahi entirely.
“PHASE—?? WAIT, WHAT—PHASE WHAT—???”
nishinoya lunges.
and that’s the moment everything in asahi’s soul leaves his body.
noya grabs his arm with the strength of ten caffeinated chihuahuas.
sugawara grabs the other, grinning like this is the best day of his life.
asahi stumbles backward, eyes wide, voice cracking.
“GUYS—GUYS—STOP—WAIT—WHAT ARE YOU DOING?? BABE?? HELP?? THEY'RE KIDNAPPING ME?!”
but you just clasp your hands behind your back, strolling casually behind the chaos like you’re on a casual morning stroll.
tanaka screeches into the parking lot at that exact moment, car swerving like he’s auditioning for Fast & Furious: Karasuno Drift. the window rolls down and he leans out, sunglasses on despite it being morning.
“GET IN, KING OF DRIP!!! WE’RE DOIN’ A BIRTHDAY!!!”
suga and noya, chaotic soulmates that they are, physically lift asahi off the ground and carry him toward the car while he kicks his feet helplessly like a kidnapped princess.
“PLEASE—PEOPLE ARE WATCHING—PUT ME DOWN—(Y/N) I’M BEGGING YOU—”
you blow him a kiss as you open the back door.
“hi babe. scoot in.”
they shove him inside the car with surprising teamwork. he lands on the seat, stunned, hair sticking up, breathing like he just got jumped in an alley.
you slide in right beside him, buckling his seatbelt because his hands aren’t working.
asahi looks at you like you betrayed him on a spiritual level.
“(Y/N)… what did you do?”
you kiss his cheek without remorse.
“i planned a fun day for your birthday.”
“FUN??? THIS ISN’T FUN THIS IS A CRIME—”
noya thrusts a bag of snacks at him from asahi's other side.
“NUTS?”
asahi flinches.
“AAH—DON’T THROW STUFF AT ME—”
“i didn’t, i offered,” noya argues indignantly.
suga turns around from the passenger seat, beaming with feral energy.
“okay! it’s time for phase two!”
asahi pales.
“There’s a PHASE TWO???”
tanaka slams the gas pedal.
the car jerks forward.
asahi screams.
you lace your fingers through his, grounding him before he has a panic attack.
“today’s going to be amazing, babe.”
“IT’S NOT STARTING AMAZING,” he yells over the sound of noya howling out the window.
but you don’t let go of his hand.
and even though he’s flustered and terrified, he squeezes your fingers back.
the car tears down the street with all four of you screaming, laughing, and committing several misdemeanor-level offenses of pure enthusiasm.
asahi buries his face in your shoulder somewhere between tanaka’s “DRIVE FAST, TAKE CHANCES!” and noya leaning out the window and slapping a sticker on a street sign as you drive by.
you stroke his hair, soothing.
“you okay?”
“i’m— i’m alive,” he manages.
“good!” you chirp.
he stares down at your laced fingers, then at the three gremlins screaming around him, and exhales shakily.
“you… did all this for me?”
you smile, warm and bright.
“of course. happy birthday.”
he blushes so hard you feel the heat radiate.
the chaos continues, and it’s insane, ridiculous, unforgettable — but even through all the yelling, asahi keeps glancing at you, soft and overwhelmed, realizing he’s the luckiest kidnapped man alive.
as tanaka drives like a man who has never once respected a speed limit, you keep asahi from rattling apart by gently covering one of his ears with your hand and stroking his hair with the other, letting him breathe. eventually he calms enough to unclench his jaw.
the second the car screeches to a stop, noya throws the door open and yells,
“WE’RE HERE!”
asahi looks up.
it’s an arcade.
bright lights. loud noises. giant claw machines. people yelling over games.
he visibly deflates in horror.
“no,” he whispers. “guys… please. please no. i’m really bad at— NO—”
too late.
noya bolts inside.
tanaka sprints after him.
suga grabs asahi’s wrist and drags him forward with the confidence of a demon general.
“c’mon, birthday boy!!!” he beams. “we saved up tokens.”
“WHY WOULD YOU SAVE TOKENS FOR THIS???” asahi yelps as he’s pulled through the door.
the second you enter, noya is already slamming buttons on a fighting game, hollering for asahi to join him. suga hands you a little cup of tokens like he’s a parent at chuck e. cheese.
you nudge asahi’s arm.
“let’s play something simple first.”
he nods desperately.
so you take him to the basketball hoop game — safe, quiet-ish, no flashing red lights or sudden noises. he relaxes a little, rolling a ball between his hands. just when he looks like he’s calming down—
“ASAHIIIIIIIII WATCH THIS!!!”
noya backflips off a machine.
an employee yells.
tanaka cheers.
asahi nearly drops the ball on his foot.
you grab his hand.
“focus on me, babe. ignore the gremlins.”
he does.
and he even smiles a little.
you get him to try air hockey next, and he actually laughs when he scores on you — soft, relieved, embarrassed. he apologizes immediately, but you kiss his cheek and tell him to stop saying sorry.
he wins another round and almost blushes himself into the floor.
after the arcade, suga claps loudly like a camp counselor.
“PHASE THREE!”
asahi flinches.
“why are there SO MANY PHASES—”
you all end up at a very fancy-looking tea shop. the kind that uses glass pots and loose leaves and very tiny spoons. asahi stares at the menu like he’s being asked to perform quantum physics.
“i don’t… um… i’ve never had— this is— i’m not classy enough for this—”
but you gently touch his elbow.
“pick whichever one smells nicest to you.”
he leans down to sniff a little jar of leaves and immediately startles when the server appears behind him, causing him to knock into the sample display. YOU catch the jar before it hits the floor, Noya catches ASAHI before he hits the floor, and Suga is laughing so hard he’s threatening to spill tea everywhere.
when the tea finally arrives, asahi sips it nervously at first… then his shoulders relax.
and you watch his whole face melt into a soft, warm smile.
he closes his eyes.
“oh… wow. that’s really good.”
you squeeze his knee under the table.
“told you you’d like it.”
tanaka takes a picture of him mid-sip because “HE LOOKS LIKE A GENTLE FOREST SPIRIT IN THIS LIGHT,” and asahi nearly throws himself out the window trying to grab the phone.
the four of you spend the afternoon wandering, talking, laughing, doing dumb little activities. anytime asahi gets overwhelmed, you’re right there—touching his arm, grounding him, smiling at him with all the softness in the world.
he keeps blushing whenever he looks at you.
keeps leaning into you without meaning to.
keeps relaxing more and more as the chaos softens into something warm and nostalgic.
when the sun starts to set, everyone ends up at a quiet park. tanaka and noya race each other to the swings. suga sits on top of the jungle gym like a smug cat. you and asahi end up on a bench, shoulder to shoulder.
he sighs, long and deep, like the tension is finally easing out of him.
“i… didn’t expect any of this,” he murmurs. “i thought today would be small. quiet. but this… this was…”
he trails off, eyes warm and a little glossy.
you lace your fingers through his.
“good?”
he turns his head toward you, cheeks pink.
“…yeah,” he whispers. “really good. really… special.”
you lift his hand and kiss his knuckles.
he melts instantly.
noya screams from the swings, “ASAHI STOP BEING ROMANTIC AND COME PUSH ME!!”
asahi groans softly and hides his face in your shoulder as you laugh.
but when he pulls back, you see it —
that look.
soft, overwhelmed, deeply loved, and deeply loving.
“thank you,” he says, voice low and real. “for planning this. for… knowing what I needed even when I didn’t.”
you slide your nose against his.
“happy birthday, babe.”
he kisses you.
gentle. shy. emotional.
the kind of kiss that says this was the best birthday he’s had in years — chaos and all.
