Haikyuu Rarepairweek 2020: day 5: Soulmate AU 🌻

bc i don’t have the time or inspiration to write, here’s all the fics I would write for my beautiful good boy if only I did (from my twitter)

bokuroo they have a hilariously awkward date and then some really clumsy fumbly sex where they can't stop giggling and getting distracted

bokuaka akaashi indulges bokuto's oral fixation and fucks his mouth until he's gasping, then turns him over and eats him out for ages

oiboku they make out at a party and end up dryhumping in front of everyone before retreating to a bedroom for some slow, lazy drunk sex

iwaboku iwa throws bokuto over his shoulder and carries him to bed, then holds him down while he rides his dick and bokuto whimpers a lot

bokusuga starts with sixty-nining. they have sex like 3 times, they're unstoppable. neither of them can walk straight the next day.

bokuhina bokuto gets the dicking of his life from the tiniest top he's ever met

bokutsukki long lazy makeouts and grinding against each other on the couch until they're almost coming, then cooling off and starting over

bokudai bokuto goin down on daichi and fingering him real good while daichi pulls his hair and moans shamelessly. then they swap.

bokuten tendou sucking bokuto off but not letting him come and edging him for *hours* before finally fucking him and letting him get off

ushiboku real romantic, slow at first until they get each other worked up and then it's just bokuto drilling ushi through the mattress

bokuken some real lowkey edging from kenma mixed with bokuto alternating between cuddly and basically worshipping kenma's cock w his mouth

come trick-or-treat in my inbox requesting ficcies and I’ll either treat you to some fluff or humor or trick you with a horribly twisted/sad AU (I’ll use a random generator to pick trick or treat)

send me “trick or treat” and a character(s) or ship in my inbox

TRICK (i’m sorry sweet nonny, i love you too!)

Koutarou cowers in the corner of the closet, listening to the noises coming from the room just outside the door, trying not to breathe too loudly in case it attracts attention. There’s something out there, something dark and dangerous and hellbent on finding him, and he knows better than he knows himself that being found is not something he wants. There’s a tearing noise that sounds similar to sharp knives through hot leather, and he winces as he thinks about the brand new couch out in the living room.

There’s more ripping and tearing noises, things he can’t identify, and then a brief silence before a staticy electric noise and a weird low whine. After that there’s a growl, rough and angry, that sends a terrified shiver down Koutarou’s spine. There’s a great cracking noise, like contained thunder, and the heavy sound of something hitting the floor hard, as if dropped from a great height. Breaking glass follows that, and the slamming of cabinets, the creak of the fridge door that Koutarou hasn’t got around to fixing yet.

Silence reigns after that, and it takes a while before Koutarou considers moving at all, wondering if whatever it was has gone away yet, not wanting to accidentally stumble upon it if it hasn’t. He stays in place, still as stone, listening hard to see if he can hear anything, heart still hammering in his ears. He waits, and waits, until his pulse has slowed almost back to normal, and then he nudges the corner of the door open with his foot, slow and careful.

In that inch of space an eye appears, blood red and glowing, and Koutarou’s heart nearly stops entirely. The door swings open, and the creature there is so, so familiar, that mischievous grin wide on a flushed face, something Koutarou is ever used to seeing. The eyes are different, though, red and malicious, and the lithe hands end in dangerously sharp claws that gesture toward him sinisterly.

“Come here, Koutarou.”

And that voice is familiar too, a devious purr, edged in something like molten metal, both enticing and frightening.

JK it was supposed to be “Don’t touch me we’re fighting.”

rating kind of T for swears and light mentions of violence

Sugawara stares down at the pile of scattered notes on his table as if the force of his glare alone would be enough to start them on fire.  Or disintegrate them.  Or maybe just make them vanish like a cool magic trick.  Akira really isn’t sure which look Sugawara is going for.  Or if he’s actually going for a particular look.  Akira had only gotten back last night from a two week long job and had promptly passed out his bed and slept the last - he glances at the clock on the stove for confirmation - yep, he was asleep for thirteen hours.

The fact that the other two let him sleep that long should have been his first clue something had happened while he was gone.

The fact that he had woken up alone, regardless of the hour, should have been his second glaringly obvious indication.

But it isn’t until Kouta peeks into the kitchen from the balcony and gives Sugawara a shy smile that it really hits him that something is wrong.  Kouta sees Akira and gives him a blinding smile as he slips into the kitchen from the balcony.  Sugawara barely glances up as Kouta kisses Akira’s cheek and murmurs a gentle “Welcome home,” against his skin.

Akira wants to sink into Kouta’s warmth and just forget about the world while Kouta lavishes him with attention.  And he does a little.  He lets Kouta drag his weight across the kitchen towards the table.  But the tenseness of Sugawara’s shoulders and the way he goes completely still as they approach sends warning flares straight down Akira’s spine; the last time he had seen Sugawara that still Sugawara had been pressing a blade against his throat and promising all manner of lengthy and messy conclusions should Akira refuse to back down or should he go back on his word.

“Don’t touch me,” Sugawara enunciates calmly, “we’re fighting.”

Kouta stops with his hand inches from Sugawara’s shoulder.