#bookskeepers writes

[bookskeepers]

third time's the charm ♡ chapter five

content warnings: light, awkward, both of them don't really know how to talk to people, reader makes a tiktok reference, abs, bra mentioned, no nsfw, tsukishima might be ooc sorry lol

word count: 1,646

a/n: i am running out of gifs. also sorry if my writing feels british my internal monologue is the same voice as baldur's gate 3's narrator 💔

also sorry this took so long ? it sat in my drafts for a week holy shit

taglist: @wakashudou

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Tsukishima Kei has three rules he follows when he's hooking up with someone.

1. Keep all communication to Tinder.

2. No dilly dallying.

3. Do not stay the night.

Of course, rule 2 had some exceptions -- occasionally he'd watch a movie to lead up to the act, but no more than that. He views hookups as a business transaction: get the goods and dip. Luckily, both sides (usually) benefit.

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He hadn't intended to stay the night at all after your romp together. He meant to help you back into your underwear, maybe cuddle for a few minutes, and then leave. But with the way your head rests against his chest, and with how comfortable you look, how is he supposed to say no?

Your hair is splayed out around you, strands tickling his skin. He finds himself absentmindedly tracing patterns on your near-bare back with his fingers as he scrolls through his phone with his free hand, willing exhaustion to hit. Your dorm bed, despite being the same as literally every other dorm bed, is somehow comfier than his own. Maybe it's because he's sharing it with you, although he's not sure.

More often than once, he catches himself observing your sleeping form. Your head is on his chest, your torso turned so that your boobs are pressed against his own torso. He can feel the silky material of your bra against him, and he wonders if you're uncomfortable. It looks like the wire's digging into your skin from his vantage point. One leg overlaps his own while the other remains straight on the mattress, and the arm he can see is splayed out on his ribs. He watches as your chest rises and falls slowly, the pattern of your breathing steady in your sleep.

"You fell asleep so quickly," he mumbles out loud, impressed. Part of him thinks you're a little stupid; who would let someone they just met stay the night? And why would you fall asleep so quickly on a stranger?

Another part of him finds it endearing, though. To be instantly trusted by someone in such a vulnerable state... it's not a feeling he's used to.

None of what just happened was what he was used to.

Sex is a fickle thing, he thinks. He has his own experience with it, most of it involving smooth R&B playing in the background, the music intermingling with the sound of skin-on-skin and feminine -- and occasionally masculine -- moans. It's never been without music, and there's never been conversation when the act's actually started.

He enjoyed the conversation, though. Listening to you try to form sentences while he went down on you was erotic in its own way. Maybe it was the teasing nature of it, or the way you'd gasp and fall silent, head thrown back in pleasure, before struggling to gather your thoughts and continue.

He finds that his eyes are drifting shut despite trying to keep them open, that he's playing with something very dangerous. After all, he thinks it wouldn't be too hard to get addicted to this: laying in a twin XL-sized bed that's too small for two people with you using him as a mattress more than you're using the actual mattress. The weight of you on his body is more comfortable than he'd ever admit to anyone, and your mannerisms and personality have already been etched into his brain. You're different.

The thought snaps him out of his reverie and he physically cringes. He doesn't think you're the kind of person who'd enjoy being told, "You're not like other people." In fact, he thinks you'd probably smack him, although he doesn't know you nearly well enough to be confident in this assumption (but he's right. You would smack him, only because you take comfort in knowing there are other people who are as weird as you, if not weirder).

When his eyes open again, sunlight is streaming through the window on the far side of the room. At some point during the night, you must've gotten up to put on a shirt -- his shirt, he realizes with a jolt -- because you're no longer laying against him bare-chested, instead now clad in a loose, black tee. He fumbles around for his phone, discovering it underneath his ass. He taps on the screen a few times, watching as it lights up with a photo of him and his volleyball club from high school. The time reads 10:32am, and you're out like a light. No one ever said sex wasn't tiring, though.

His movements must be disturbing your slumber, because you shift in your sleep. One of your legs ends up fully over him while his free arm ends up trapped between your body and his. You sure know how to make yourself comfortable, he thinks.

Slowly, delicately, he extricates himself from your hold, each move calculated as not to disturb your slumber. After all, he hadn't intended to stay the night -- vague memories of the mild shock on your face after you asked makes him think you hadn't originally intended to ask, either.

He pulls his pants on before remembering that there's a bit of a dilemma. You're wearing the shirt he came with, and he half-heartedly wonders if anyone's out and about on campus on a Saturday mid-morning. It's not that he's embarrassed of how he looks, he would just much rather be able to blend into the crowd with ease. Being shirtless would prevent that, probably.

If he was wearing athletic shorts, on the other hand, he could pretend he was going on a run. Alas, he wore jeans to your dorm. It seems his options were either leave and demand you return his shirt via Tinder, or--

"Where're you going?"

Your sleep-tinged voice cuts through his thought process, and he snaps his head up to look at you. It seems his movements were not calculated enough, since you're now awake. He watches as you blink sleep from your eyes, turning onto your back to stretch your limbs out in all directions with a quiet groan. You sit up in the bed, glancing from him to the shirt you're wearing. "This isn't mine," you say at last.

He lets out a slight chuckle. "No, that's mine. You must've put it on during the night. And I was just heading out, actually."

You let out a gasp, clapping your hands over your heart. "Without even saying goodbye? How cold. How cruel, Tsukishima. I'm heartbroken." Your tone is light, teasing; he can't help but smile in response.

"You were sound asleep. I didn't wanna disturb you." His eyes trail over your body, hidden by a combination of his tee and the blanket that's draped haphazardly over your form.

You raise one eyebrow at him, a devious look in your eyes. "So you were just gonna leave my dorm without a shirt on?"

"Was hoping I could pass as someone going for a morning jog."

"In jeans?"

He falls silent at that, because how could he refute those words? You were just voicing his internal argument, anyways. He lets out a huff and sits on the edge of your bed, taking care to avoid squashing your feet under the blanket. "You have a good point," he finally mutters. He's not sure why he feels embarrassed, but he can feel the tips of his ears heat up as a blush begins to crawl down his features.

"I make those sometimes," you say. He glances at you and catches you looking away from his torso, your cheeks now dusted with the color of shame from being caught in the act. He lets out another chuckle.

"You can look, you know. It's not like I'm actively trying to hide it."

Your response to that is to fish out a pair of sunglasses from your nightside table and put them on before shifting your body to face him. You lean closer to his torso, remarking, "Sunglasses are so great because no one can tell where I'm looking," before straightening up and taking the accessory off. "Sorry. Got struck by divine inspiration for that one."

He just shakes his head, a look of feigned annoyance passing on his features, before he holds his hand out. "Can I have my shirt back now?"

You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes. "I guess." With swift movements, his shirt is off your body and in his hand, exposing your bra -- and upper body -- to the elements. Now it's his turn to stare, and he does so without shame.

"You literally saw all of this last night," you state after a brief period of quiet. That snaps Tsukishima out of his reverie, and he puts his shirt on.

"Yeah? You saw all of this--" he gestures to his now-clothed torso, "--last night too."

"Touché."

The silence returns as he stands and shuffles about the room, seemingly aimless in his wandering. This time, it's tinged with an undercurrent of awkwardness, as if neither of you are sure about what to say next. Finally, he relents: "I'm gonna go now."

"Sounds good!" is your automatic reply, and he watches as you immediately facepalm. "Not good as in, you suck get out, good as in, go live your life, I swear."

"Haha, I got it, no worries."

And with that, he's out the door, the image of you shirtless in your own bed seared into his retinas.

Another round wouldn't hurt, right? is all he's thinking about as he walks back to his own dorm, trying to mathematically calculate how much time should pass before he reaches out to you again. Because you, as a person, seem to have him hooked with your charm and your appeal.

Besides, he's already broken one rule with you -- what's the harm in breaking the other two?

[bookskeepers]

third time's the charm ♡ chapter six

content warnings: mentions of sex, bad pickup lines, some fourth-wall breaking, MDNI

word count: 1,381

a/n: it's been 5 months oops thank you all for waiting + sorry for it being short </3 it's a little filler-y

taglist: @wakashudou @maddyb-rapps

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You try to avoid being the one to text first after a hook-up, since it makes you feel pushy and bothersome. After all, both parties got what they wanted out of the encounter -- sex -- so there's no need to try and communicate again. As your luck would have it, you've rarely hooked up with the same person more than once. You weren't keen on breaking that trend.

Needless to say, you're pleasantly surprised when Tsukishima ends up reaching out a week and a half later. The Tinder notification appears when you're deep in a solo study session, eyes weary from staring at so many cramped words on a page.

Tsukishima: So. What classes are you taking this semester?

To put it simply, the question takes you by surprise. This man, who was arguably one of the best lays of your life, is expressing interest in your class schedule?

You blink at your phone a few times, certain there must be genuine confusion on your features. After all, what kind of hook-up wants to know your schedule? Isn't that strange?

Your first instinct is to text Mai, Kanji, Aone, Kosuke, or the groupchat with all five of you. But you know that'd be silly; after all, that'd be an overreaction. It was a simple question and you barely knew the guy beyond his prowess in the bedroom. Maybe he just wanted to learn more about you.

As you dwell on this, two potential responses rise up in your mind: you could bite the bullet and ask 'why,' or you could just give him an honest response without questioning it. Your initial read of Tsukishima was that he's aloof and likes to maintain distance, given the way he tried to leave your room while you were asleep. Him asking a question like this felt oddly personal.

You're so caught up with thinking of what to respond with that you eventually end up forgetting to respond altogether; it takes several hours before you remember that you didn't actually type a reply to the blonde man. After wincing in embarrassment upon realizing, you end up deciding on what you view as the less offensive of both options: answering his question without doubt.

You: hey! i'm taking mammalogy, advanced neurobio, an intro to ecology course, and a class about pharmacology. what about you?

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Forty seven minutes. That's how long it takes for Tsukishima to respond to your text. You'd expected for him to take longer; after all, he waited several hours to reply whenever you took hours to reply as well.

You waste no time in checking your phone when the notification arrives, pausing your studying once more. The bright light of the screen makes you wince a bit.

Tsukishima: Neurobiology, huh? Think you can explain the neuroscience of sex to me?

You have to reread each word over and over again before the meaning sinks in -- or, at least, what you hope the meaning is. You're not used to there being a second... session, for lack of a better term, with the same guy, even less used to the guy suggesting the second one. You can feel the blood rush to your face, certain it's tinging your cheeks pink. The heat also rushes elsewhere, more south, making you cross your legs and squirm slightly. The unexpected turn of events isn't unwelcome, though. You're pleasantly surprised that he both reached out first and cut straight to the chase. There's no need to dance around the bush when it comes to the more carnal desires of the flesh, after all.

Since Tsukishima hadn't taken forever to respond, you decide to grace him with an even quicker response. After all, why wait? You're hoping he's implying that he wants a second hook-up with you, another chance to get in your pants, and the best way to confirm is to reply.

You: oh, do you need a tutor? if so, i'm free tomorrow after 8:30pm... ;)

Satisfied with your response, you hit send and put your phone face-down on the table. You're sat at your desk for a few more minutes before deciding that you've had enough of studying -- it's 9:47pm -- and you deserve a break. You crawl into bed with a book that you bought recently, feeling a little happy about finally having the time to read it.

Unfortunately for you, however, your phone remains on your desk, just out of reach. And you become so engrossed in the novel that the vibration of a response falls on deaf ears, and you also find yourself falling asleep without a second thought after reaching the halfway point in the book at about 3:42am. There goes your sleep schedule.

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When you wake the next morning -- or afternoon, since the clock reads 1:12pm -- you curse yourself for forgetting to set an alarm before you got into bed. That's two lectures missed, so while you're mad, you also take it as a sign from some higher power that today was not a day for you to attend classes.

You change out of the clothes you slept in into something far more comfy before sitting down at your desk, checking your phone before plugging it in to charge. The Tinder notification sits proudly at the top of the list, above the automated promotional texts and email notifications. You tap on it, noting that the reply came the night before at 10:12pm, a grin spreading on your tired features as you absorb the words Tsukishima sent.

Tsukishima: Sounds good. I'll bring my already-filled-out neurobiology notebook this time.

You tap out a quick response -- perf. see you tonight! -- before letting out a deep, shaky breath. You just committed to a second hook-up with this incredibly attractive, tall, blonde man. You're not quite sure how he wasn't turned off by your incessant babbling during the act, but you're going to try and not dwell on it. After all, you're in college; pretty much everyone is looking for a quick fuck, right?

And so, your stress begins. Somehow, the thought of seeing him again wearing anything less than the perfect outfit has you sweating, even though he's already seen you naked, in pajamas, and also in his own clothing. You immediately stand up from your desk with enough force to accidentally knock the chair over, wincing at the loud bang despite it being a perfectly normal time to make accidental noise. You quickly right your chair before whizzing over to the wardrobe on the other side of the room, opening the doors wide and staring at the clothing hooks laden with garments.

It takes you several different iterations of roughly twenty three different options before you decide on fun, two-tone jeans with a top in a hue that flatters your skin tone. Simple and elegant, which should translate to "decent-looking and not a total gremlin" in other people's eyes.

Now that the outfit is out of the way, you spend the next seven hours stressing about how there's so much time left and it's crawling by so slowly until, tada, it's 8:30pm or so. Now, you spend your time stressing about when exactly he's going to get to your dorm, whether he'll text you when he's on his way, if he'll surprise you with a knock out of nowhere... It's all a very productive use of your time.

The time creeps closer to 9:00pm when the knock finally sounds -- he didn't tell you when he began his journey towards your residence -- and your heart hammers loudly in your chest. Really, you shouldn't be so nervous! After all, this man has already seen you naked and decided he liked what he saw and heard enough to ask you for sexual favors again.

Sometimes you wish you phrased things better in your brain.

Deciding not to let yourself dwell in your thoughts any longer, you approach the door and take another deep breath before flinging it open with so much force it slams against the wall. Both you and the blonde jump in response, a nervous chuckle escaping your lips.

"Hey," you say, praying that your eagerness didn't leave a hole in the wall.

"Hey," he replies. "Guess we're starting off with a bang, huh?"

[bookskeepers]

third time's the charm ♡ tsukishima kei

pairing: timeskip ! college ! tsukishima kei x afab ! nb ! reader

general content warnings: SMUT! NSFW! MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT! tsukishima is mean. the reader is very sexually promiscuous (and very sexually traumatized). SEXUAL TRAUMA! exploring your identity in college. definitely based off my personal experiences. college AU. all that fun stuff (individual chapters will have more accurate content warnings)

(tsukki after y'all fuck fr)

note: if a chapter has the emoji next to it, it is safe to assume that the content warning is explicit (re: there will be a chapter about sexual assault and flashbacks to said sexual assault)

😳 for smut; 🫥 for trauma; 🥹 for fluff

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teaser

chapter one 🫥😳

chapter two

chapter three 😳

chapter four 😳😳😳😳

chapter five

chapter six

chapter seven

[bookskeepers]

the neuroscience of falling in love ☆ chapter seven

content warnings: kuroo is FILTHY (i'm trying to redeem him), mentions of pregnancy, more drama, this chapter was so self insert because love rosie is my favorite movie, yamaguchi is yamaguchi. chaotic, portuguese, hinata is hinata

a/n: sorry it took so long chat. life has been lifing (i bought a new laptop)

ignore timestamps and ignore how all the timestamps are 8-9am and it's 5:15pm please

taglist: @wakashudou, @theycallmenanamisgirl, @giocriedpower, @punkhazardlaw, @miliondollagirl

previous ☆ masterlist ☆ next

☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･::･★彡･::･☆

translations:

nature e curo: nature is healing

parabens: congratulations

a vida e boa de novo: life is beautiful again

quel movie: which movie

que: what

☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･::･★彡･::･☆

information:

y/n has decided that life is too short to hold grudges (also it's been 3 weeks since she spoke to kuroo (don't think too hard about the timeline please))

yamaguchi is plotting. after all, he thinks love, rosie is so niche that only two soulmates would hold it as their #1 favorite movie of all time

the kiyoko tweet will make sense when you see the bonus

☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･::･★彡･::･☆

bonus !

[bookskeepers]

the neuroscience of falling in love ★ chapter six

content warnings: angst/sadness. neuroscience jargon. written. little to no actual bokuto. kuroo x reader if you stare at it hard enough.

word count: 1,636

a/n: i know it is not a tuesday or a wednesday but i just remebered i never posted a new chapter for TNOFIL when i posted one for TTTC. bokuto fans time to eat

also please dont judge me for the food choice. tuna, mayonnaise, and pickles is a good combo trust

recipe: 1 can of tuna, liek 2-3 teaspoons of light mayonnase, 1-2 kosher pickles -- cut up the pickles into small chunks, mix everything together, and eat with kettle cooked chips (or eat without chips. also works)

taglist in the comments because i forgot oops

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Knock. Knock. Knockknockknockknockknockknockknock.

The noises come in rapid succession. And they don't stop once they've started.

You know it's one of your housemates -- most likely Yachi hammering away at the door, trying to get you to leave the confines of your room -- but you can't bring yourself to care. It's like the mesolimbic pathway in your brain has been altered to stop working. You're numb.

After all, who wouldn't be numb to the world after finding out that someone viewed them as a dirty secret?

Sure, there wasn't supposed to be anything forming between you and Kuroo. After all, it was a no-strings-attached situation, with both of you satisfying your physical needs.

So... why? Why does it hurt so much? Why do you care if he thinks of you as something that needs to be hidden instead of a person?

You know the answer, of course. At least from the perspective of your major.

In women, sex releases oxytocin. Oxytocin is also the neurotransmitter associated with pair-bonding. You know it's not truly possible to be no-strings-attached with the way the human brain is hardwired, especially if it's countless hook-ups with the same person. You know you were treading a fine line when it became twice, then thrice, then again and again and again with him.

If you dig deep within yourself, through the numbness, you feel stupid. Stupid for letting yourself get attached -- even though you know there was no way of avoiding it -- and stupid for ever doing things with Kuroo. Stupid for not listening to Tadashi and Kiyoko and Yachi when you still had the chance to back out without harming your feelings. After all, Tadashi called it from the get-go, declaring that whatever you and Kuroo had brewing between you two over a year ago was not going to end well.

You're in bed, barely clothed save for an oversized tee and underwear. Your laptop is propped open on your lap and you're doing schoolwork, filling out the definitions of terms you've been learning in neuropsychopharmacology. Yachi's knocking lasts for about a minute before it seems she finally gives up. Well, you thought she gave up until she bursts into your room, and it turns out not to be Yachi at all, but Tadashi.

"Are you alive?" he blurts as he stares at you from the doorway, the light from the hallway illuminating him. There's evident concern in his eyes, and he has one hand on the doorknob and another with a plate of food.

You return his stare with a listless one, unblinking and silent. You find yourself wishing it was Yachi who had been knocking, because she wouldn't poke and prod at you until you gave her answers.

Tadashi strides over to the foot of your bed, taking your laptop from you -- perhaps to provoke a response, but you don't give one -- before setting it on your desk. He hands you the plate of food. "Eat."

You take it, staring at the nourishment piled on top of it. Kettle-cooked chips, tuna mixed with mayonnaise and pickles, and an apple. Some of the most basic comfort foods for you. Leave it to Tadashi to know what meal to whip up for someone who's feeling down.

The uncomfortable, tense silence persists as you lift one chip, scooping a bit of the tuna mix onto it before taking a bite. The tang of the chips combined with the brine of the pickles, along with the smoothness of the mayonnaise, lends a sense of satisfaction to your brain and your tongue.

You're not sure why the tuna-combination (abomination, as Tadashi and Kiyoko liked to call it) gives you such a comforting feeling. After all, comfort foods are supposed to be high in carbohydrates to ensure that tryptophan, the serotonin precursor, makes it to the brain.

Maybe being a neuroscience major wasn't the smartest choice. Your entire thought process is just analyzing how you think nowadays.

"So," Tadashi finally says, breaking you out of your neuroscience-fueled reverie. "How are you feeling?"

You shrug in response, eating another tuna-laden chip.

He rolls his eyes at you. "C'mon, dude. You have vocal cords. You haven't answered any of our texts or tweets in, like, three days, and I don't think I've seen you leave the room except to shower. Have you even been eating?"

You nod in response. You have been eating, because how else would your brain function? How else would you keep up with schoolwork without the fuel to boost your cognition?

He narrows his eyes at you. "You're probably thinking of brain jargon to explain your mood."

He knows you too well.

"Well, I know how to explain it too," he declares, plopping on the edge of your bed and crossing his arms. "You're sad 'coz Crowhead Kuroo wasn't as into you as you thought he was."

The next bite of your food seems to lodge itself temporarily in your throat; you cough and hack at Tadashi's words, giving him a very, very strong glare. "No."

"She speaks! Told you you have vocal cords." He sounds smug, and you wish for nothing more than to smack the smirk off his face. "If it's not that, then what is it?"

"The acknowledgement of a decreased oxytocin production for the foreseeable future," you deadpan. You consider it a win when his brows furrow in evident confusion, mulling over your words.

After a beat or two pass, he lets out a sigh. "You're a nerd."

Realizing you're not willing to talk anymore, he gets up and frowns at you. "Well, if you need anything, consider checking your phone," he says before he leaves your room, closing the door with a rather ungraceful slam behind him.

☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･::･★彡･::･☆

You know it's wrong to be mad at your housemates, but you don't want to deal with their "told you so" attitude that's sure to come out if you leave your room. So you don't. If you excel at anything, it's avoiding your problems.

You use your phone only to contact study participants (Kuroo included) via email instead of text. Do you wonder if they notice the difference? Yes. Do you care all that much? More than you're willing to admit.

With every passing day, the tiny red circle containing the number of notifications next to Twitter, Messages, and Phone only increases. You have to desire to check them. Besides, your phone buzzes for the important notifications, like texts from your principal investigator in regards to labwork and emails.

You go through the motions, too. Attend class, go to lab, fill out data forms for your study, go home, make a quick dinner, shower, retreat into your room, sleep, repeat. At some point during the days, you begin skipping lunch, but never dinner. You find that you must be completely occupied at all times, or your feelings -- which have overcome the numbness holding them at bay -- will overwhelm you.

Nightly visits from your housemates, sometimes Yachi, sometimes Tadashi, sometimes all three, decrease in frequency the longer you go without actively seeking them out. The atmosphere in the house is tense and you're aware it's your fault. You can't bring yourself to do anything about it.

Your carefully-maintained peace shatters within a week of the devastating interaction with Kuroo. You're at your desk, listening to music while you work, when Strangers by Kenya Grace comes on. You manage to make it through the whole song, despite its constant reminder of your own situation. You begin to think that maybe you're recovering from the shock and pain when you succeed at not shedding a tear during its choruses, when the next song makes everything crumble.

Avery Lynch's smooth, high voice echoes in your ears as tears well in your eyes, making you clench both your jaw and your fists. You push yourself away from the desk, trying to take deep breaths to steady yourself.

Isn't it romantic? All the short nights and long conversations.

Line after line, word after word, each one feeling like a punch straight to your stomach. No song better encapsulates your present. Because, as much as you'd hate to admit it, Kuroo had just been a guy who gave you attention at the right time, all that time ago in organic chemistry.

Tears flow freely now, dripping down your cheeks and onto your thighs. Your nails are digging into the soft skin of your palms, and you know the marks will be atrociously red. It feels like air isn't getting to your lungs properly as you weep, taking gasping breaths when the tears ebb enough for you to do so. Despite your attempts to keep your sobs quiet, you know they're loud and that there's little doubt about whether or not your housemates can hear.

It doesn't take long for a tentative knock to sound at the door, before the telltale creaking of the hinges alerts you to someone's presence. Soft footfalls land behind you before an equally-soft pair of arms wraps themselves around you. The scent of vanilla and daffodils floods your nostrils as Yachi begins stroking your hair with one hand while you cry.

You shift positions, burrowing your head into her shoulder as she tightens her hug. "There, let it out," she whispers softly into your hair, stroking comforting patterns on your back.

And let it out you do. At some point during, Tadashi and Kiyoko also enter your room, each one showing you their own form of affection. Tadashi pats your head, while Kiyoko also holds you with Yachi, both of them whispering soft words that fall on deaf ears as you hiccup and whimper.

And there the four of you stay for a while, their presences offering comfort beyond words as you truly, wholeheartedly, let it out.

[bookskeepers]

the neuroscience of falling in love ☆ chapter five

content warnings: gen z slang (the rizzler), yamaguchi causes DrAmA, (although he had good intentions) kuroo and bokuto and y/n fall apart, etc. etc. etc. no other languages. this one was fun to write but also i suck at writing people arguing so let me know how that goes

a/n: i am SO SO SO sorry it took so long for me to update. life got busy. but i am hopefully back (called out of work because i am ill so i have time to write!) (also full confession baldur's gate 3 took over my life but)

i was also debating on whether or not this chapter should be a kuroo x y/n smut. but then i realized i promised my smut-writing virginity to tttc (the tsukki x reader fic i'm writing). but fret not... there will probably be a kuroo x reader smut in the future where they kiss and make up despite this being a bokuto x reader smau AHHAHAH

also on the shorter side (i think? i have no idea on how to estimate a smau chapter's length lol)

taglist: @wakashudou, @theycallmenanamisgirl, @giocriedpower, @punkhazardlaw, @miliondollagirl (send an ask to be added please!)

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☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･::･★彡･::･☆

information:

y/n fully thought kuroo's housemates knew about her, even though she hadn't actually started going to his place until recently

she's pretty hurt by this, since she has some insecurities that generally manifest as "people are ashamed of me"

kuroo's been staring at his phone for the last few minutes trying to figure out how to salvage this because he does in fact have feelings for y/n (because how could he not. y/n's just so awesome you know)

y/n's also upset about all this because yamaguchi knew kuroo was hiding her and didn't tell her, and all three of them knew bokuto was into her and didn't tell her

she's overwhelmed by everything that happened

she's also hurt that tsukki was sent as messenger instead of them knocking on her door

☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･::･★彡･::･☆

bonus !

[bookskeepers]

third time's the charm ♡ chapter two

content warnings: tsukishima's p.o.v. of his sexual history since starting college! so yes. NSFW-ish (not explicit smut). minors do not interact. ahahah i hope i got him right

word count: 1,412

a/n: i added to chapter one so please make sure you read that one before this one ! also this one is on the shorter side because like ........ i am not that creative

also! sorry for the weird tenses... i like writing in present tense but i genuinely had no clue how to go from past to present so here we are <3 sorry. english is not my first language

taglist: none yet ! pls send an ask if you want to be added <3

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Tsukishima Kei isn't big on commitment. Or, at least, he thought he wasn't until he met you.

Before he started college, he hadn't really gone out of his way to meet girls. Sure, there was the usual confession from underclassmen, upperclassmen, and people his age on a regular basis, but it's not like he was attracted to any of them. They all felt pretty basic: average height, average features, average everything. None of them stood out to him. Yamaguchi often teased him for his "endless line of suitors," and the olive-haired boy also taught him how to let those girls down gently. Tsukishima tried his best to, but more often than not the confessions ended in tears.

Once he started university, he decided to branch out more. He ended up going to the same school as Kuroo Tetsurou and Bokuto Koutarou, and they wiggled their way back into his life. Kuroo even helped him set up his Tinder account, and Tsukishima hadn't bothered to change it since.

It's not like it wasn't easy for him to meet girls, though; his major was mostly women and he often felt some unnerving stares in his classes. He thought studying anthropology would be more equal in terms of a gender divide, but he was wrong. Besides, he didn't like the idea of trying to hook up with people he'd see on a daily basis. The appeal of Tinder was that there were no strings attached and, if he were to enjoy the company of a computer science major or a biology major, the chances of him crossing paths with them again was nonexistent.

His first time ended up being pretty straightforward -- the girl had been relatively understanding of his lack of experience, and Tsukishima had discovered that he really enjoyed kissing people, especially in missionary. His slew of experiences led him to find out that he also enjoyed the quiet noises people made more than the loud ones, the looks on their faces when they came undone, and the way they'd sink their nails into his back when it felt too good for them.

He enjoyed the way their thighs would tighten around his head when he went down on them, and he really liked the looks in their eyes when he'd lick his fingers clean after bringing them to orgasm with two digits.

He soon developed a bit of a reputation amongst those who knew him as a womanizer (although he would always disagree and say something about how that term felt demeaning towards both him and the ladies). He didn't talk about his promiscuity often, nor did he appreciate his friends' teasing about how all the women he took to bed looked the same. Tall, lithe, and light-colored hair. Bokuto went as far as to suggest that Tsukishima was into girls that could pass off as his sister, but he never said anything like that again since Tsukishima had smacked him for that comment.

It also quickly became apparent that Tsukishima wasn't a fan of women who tied their self-worth to the amount of sex they had. The first and only time he encountered someone like that, their need to please him had gone far beyond the usual desire to please one's partner and it was unsettling. That was also when he decided to exchange more than three messages with his matches on Tinder. He also no longer hesitated to unmatch with someone if they gave the wrong vibes.

There were a few times where it felt like the opposite party was getting attached. Requests to meet up for reasons other than sex, invites to parties, things like that. It's not that the idea of a relationship didn't appeal to Tsukishima, it was that the thought of being in a relationship with those who were trying to pursue one with him made his gut feel heavy and sent an anxious shiver up his spine. Simply put, there was a stark difference between "women he'd hook up with" and "women he would consider dating." After all, the hookups rarely handled his generally cold attitude well -- but sex, in his mind, was not a place for conversation. These feelings led him to think that maybe, just maybe, commitment wasn't his thing. It wasn't like he had met anyone he'd consider dating thus far anyways.

♡*•.¸♡¸.•*♡*•.¸♡¸.•*♡*•.¸♡¸.•*♡*•.¸♡¸.•*♡*•.¸♡¸.•*♡*•.¸♡¸.•*♡*•.¸♡¸.•*♡

If you ask him, he would say that the day he matched with you on Tinder wasn't that eventful.

It started rather simply. In the morning, he went for his usual jog before hitting the rec center on campus. That day was his pull day, so he had done lateral pull-downs, pull-ups, and he had used the rowing machine with the resistance set to high. Tsukishima likes the gym -- no one there was going to go out of their way to talk to him (unless they were asking to work in with him) and no one there was going to judge him.

He had gone to his classes like usual -- he decided to treat himself that semester by taking an elective that had nothing to do with the actual path he was setting up for himself. He was sitting in that class, Dragons Around the World, when he decided to pull up Tinder and start swiping. It was an entertaining class for the most part, but that day was dedicated to going over the most recent exam. Tsukishima had scored a perfect 100 on it, so he felt that there was no need for him to pay attention.

As usual, his feed was dominated by people that others would think of as super models. High cheekbones, pale-colored eyes, long lashes. He swiped mindlessly -- mostly to the right -- before your profile appeared on his screen. Something about you felt different -- maybe it was the gleam of mischief in your eyes or the way your profile didn't have any photos of you scantily clad in a bikini or less. Maybe it was the way your bio was "would ask for the kid's menu at a restaurant solely for the word search," or the way your job was listed as "generally confused at school." Despite the simplicity of your profile, it felt full of personality, a huge contrast to most of those on Tinder. He found himself swiping right against his better judgment.

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Around 1:00am that night, he's sat at his desk with his headphones on his ears when his phone lets out a quiet ding. He looks up from his textbook, a faint feeling of surprise that he even heard the ding through his music. He grabs it and taps on the screen, wincing at the bright light of the background.

TINDER: You got a new match!

As per usual, he taps on the notification and unlocks his phone. He always checks who his new matches are -- that's how he decides whether or not to send them a message.

He stares at the empty chat, your face sat in the middle of the screen. The photo's of you smiling at someone off camera, hair ruffling in an unseen breeze, a gleam of mischief in your eyes. He types out a quick "Yo." before placing his phone back on the desk and returning to the task at hand: studying for his exam in two days.

His focus doesn't last long, as his phone screen lights up this time to indicate that someone -- you, maybe? -- replied to him. He lets out a rather annoyed sigh before taking his phone once more, deciding to ditch studying at this hour and instead opting to flop in bed.

You: very charming first message

He lets out an amused snort by your response to his "Yo." and he rolls his eyes.

Tsukishima: It got you to reply, didn't it?

His eyes track the screen for a few minutes, hoping your reply would come as fast as it did before.

After mindlessly scrolling through Instagram Reels for thirty minutes -- because TikTok's subpar -- he realizes you must've fallen asleep. After all, he'd hate if you didn't reply in the end, since you were different from the usual Tinder interaction.

He goes to sleep that night with the thought of you on his mind. It was no easy feat to get him to laugh in general, much less so in the first interaction. Unbeknownst to you, you managed to do just that, which made you his latest fixation.

[bookskeepers]

the neuroscience of falling in love ★ chapter four

content warnings: crack. bokuto is very embarrassed. mild suggestions of toxic masculinity. kuroo being horny. jokes about death. mentions of incest.

a/n: grinded this out while freaking out about whether or not my daith piercing is rejecting lol

as always ignore timestamps (and the blue border around that one image. my friend was actively texting me while i was trying to make this)

also -- adding the usual golden border between conversation switches to make y'alls life easier

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☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･::･★彡･::･☆

translations:

meu amor, meu amigo = my love, my friend

eu preciso de um amigo novo por favor = i need a new friend please

eu nao preciso de tsukishima kei = i do not need tsukishima kei

☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･::･★彡･::･☆

information:

hinata does not like being reminded of his height even though he's excellent at volleyball regardless

every now and then, kuroo and y/n discuss ending the situationship but it never happens (mainly because kuroo's really good at giving head and y/n doesn't have the time to find another friend w benefits)

kuroo shamelessly asks for tiddy pics at least 1x a day

when y/n came over that night he fawned over her boobs for like 30 minutes until she told him to get on with it

bokuto has been typing and deleting a text message to y/n for at least three hours to ask when they should reschedule and to apologize for his behavior

despite coming off as a himbo, bokuto has pretty high situational awareness; he's capable of deciphering others' moods even when he doesn't know them that well

yachi using tildes almost always guarantees she's drunk and when she's drunk she starts sending the lyrics to the copypasta rap ("rawr x3 nuzzles pounces on you uwu you so warm...")

y/n would go on a date with bokuto if he wasn't part of the study. he's tall, his hair is cool, and he's buff as hell. also, she's weirdly attracted to people who seem dumb

kiyoko became team bokuto when yamaguchi pointed out it's either bokuto or kuroo

yachi no longer tolerates mentions of hinata anymore -- no one knows why (even though their relationship is good...)

kuroo has definitely moaned out "fuck yeah brother" while fucking y/n and she has definitely teased him about being into incest (he hates it but the phrase is an integral part of his vocabulary)

☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･::･★彡･::･☆

bonus!

simply because i've had these songs stuck in my head over the last few days and bokuto + shoyo would totally do this, so would yamaguchi and y/n

[bookskeepers]

OK what major should reader be in "third time's the charm"

note: i, myself, was a neuroscience major in college [in case you couldn't tell/haven't read "the neuroscience of falling in love"] so naturally i will know the most about that

lowkey though i feel like all the college fics i see have y/n / reader as a liberal arts major and that's like chill but Where My Stem Girlies At

i also did computerscience for two years in undergrad [two years im NEVER getting back (through tears)] so... also a good option

[bookskeepers]

third time's the charm ♡ tsukishima kei (teaser)

pairing: timeskip ! college ! tsukishima kei x afab ! nb ! reader

content warnings: heavily suggestive. MDNI. very nsfw. sex. trauma. fun stuff. a little self-insert-y (but what x reader fic isn't?). reader thinks they're asexual at first lol

also -- i'll hold a poll after this to determine the reader's major. y'all better answer it >:(

a/n: just a little teaser... (tsukki doesn't actually appear in this part too much) also sorry that it's shit

also i realize the end might make it seem like "oh ur not ACTUALLY asexual u just need to get dicked down good" but thats not my intent. thats me sharing my life experience thru the reader's pov T_T

You know how, in elementary school, they ask you what you want to be when you grow up?

When they asked you, sweet, little, innocent you, what you wanted to be at the age of 5, you had very proudly answered: "Married!"

That sentiment, however, didn't really stick with you throughout life. Yes, the thought of belonging to someone for the rest of your life was nice, but you rarely went out of your way to pursue it.

Besides, your answer changed every year you were asked. "Married" at 5, "Princess" at 6, "Astronaut" at 7, "Zoologist" at 8 (your teacher was shocked by this one, mainly because 8-year-olds barely know what biology is, much less zoology). Slowly but surely, you had made your way down the STEM path of life.

Sure, you had crushes. In 7th grade, you even tried to make a move. It had been lunch time, and your entire grade was packed into the cafeteria. There were two columns of those picnic-esque tables with a clear, big aisle down the middle. You had been in that aisle, en route to tell your crush that you liked them, when you had slipped and fell flat on your ass in front of your entire class. The chatter had fallen silent -- at least, you swear it did -- and you heard a few giggles. You felt everyone's gaze on you and you turned bright red before scampering to your feet and running off.

You decided to take it as a sign from God that love wasn't your thing.

High school came and went rather uneventfully. Crushes appeared then got haircuts, making you lose interest. You watched as your friends supposedly "fell in love" with someone they held all of two conversations with, watched as they got into relationships and got their hearts broken, heard as they spoke about having sex at 15 and 16. You found their descriptions of the carnal act rather gross.

Maybe it was during high school that you convinced yourself you were asexual and sex-repulsed. After all, LGBTQ+ was becoming more "mainstream" then.

It's in college when you realize that's not true, of course. After all, college is all about exploring yourself sexually, right? Making out with people of all genders, trying new things in the bedroom, trusting strangers not to give you diseases... What a fun time.

And, hey, who knows? Maybe you'll find yourself partaking in the usual college activities too. You highly doubt it, though -- after all, at the start, you're convinced you're both asexual and aromantic.

You didn't once think you'd end up in the bed of a semi-pro volleyball player that's blessed with rippling abs and a tall physique. How could you?

[bookskeepers]

the neuroscience of falling in love ☆ chapter three

content warnings: bokuto is so delusional. lots of neuro jargon. written so it's serious time. claustrophobia. fear of hospitals. panic attacks.

word count: 2,126 (i got carried away oops)

a/n: i feel like bokuto would be claustrophobic. just a vibe. yknow? also he totally uses 'we' when talking to himself about himself

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taglist: @punkhazardlaw

He checks his phone for, perhaps, the third time in the last two minutes. The time reads 3:27pm, and the date tells him it's Tuesday. He's standing in one of the newer buildings on campus, all modern architecture and floor-to-ceiling windows. Since you've texted him last, he's discovered the meeting location from an email that you sent all the participants. You had told him in advance you'd be keeping in contact via email, but that he could opt for text messages instead. He, of course, thought that was your way of asking for his number (even though he's aware that it was strictly professional).

He begins to pace outside the room. The stark white tile floors and plain walls don't help his nerves, since they remind him of a hospital. The only time that Bokuto's been at a hospital -- save for his birth -- was when he got really injured in middle school. He wasn't able to play volleyball for several months after that. It took him a while to get back into shape afterwards, too.

Faint whirring comes from the door he's waiting outside, and he freezes his pacing as he hears your voice. Softspoken, muffled by the wood, but your voice nonetheless. He finds himself stepping closer to see if he can make out what you're saying, but the door suddenly swings open instead.

And there you are. Dressed in something that could pass for business casual and professional, in colors that compliment your skin tone. Your hair's neatly styled, too, adding on to the assumption that you're a well put-together individual. Bokuto has to physically stop himself from looking you up and down, lest you get the wrong impression about him and decide he's disgusting and not worth your time.

A sweet smile breaks out on your features and Bokuto can't help but give you one of his winning ones in return. After all, he feels like he has won -- he gets to spend time with you and ultimately make money in the long run. He considers it the sweetest gig ever.

"Hey Bokuto! So glad you could make it," you say, and he only nods in response. He doesn't trust his voice not to do something embarrassing, like crack. Can't have you thinking he's still going through something like puberty either, not when he's 21, almost 22.

You step aside and gesture for him to enter the room, so he does. He has to stop and look around once he's entered. There's large, donut-looking machine in the middle of the room, and he vaguely remembers you mentioning something about an ephemeral or whatever during the screening for the study. He wasn't sure then and he's still not sure now what that means, but if it involves going into that tube... He shakes his head rather noticeably, trying to dispel the thoughts.

You tilt your head at him slightly, confusion evident in your fair features. "Everything okay? You shook your head and I haven't even said anything yet."

He cringes internally, having temporarily forgotten about your presence. "Uh, yeah," he says. As he suspected, his voice comes out as a squeak, adding onto his pre-existing embarrassment. He feels his face grow warm, and he can only assume there's a fine layer of pink on his cheeks. He coughs, clearing his throat. "Sorry."

"No worries," you respond smoothly. "A lot of people get nervous in the ephemeral room." You must notice his blank look, because you quickly add: "Ephemeral. It stands for functional magnetic resonance imaging." Oh. It wasn't 'ephemeral' at all; it was fMRI. More embarrassment adds to Bokuto's pile.

"Oh, I totally know what that is," Bokuto states confidently. He doesn't, but you don't need to know that.

You look elated. "Excellent!" You clap your hands together, the sound loud and sharp against the faint whirring ever-present in the background. "Then I'm going to hand you this," you say as you walk off to the side, picking up a blue folded rectangle that was settled on chairs Bokuto hadn't noticed earlier. You hand the thing to him, and he grasps it by the edge, watching as it unfolds into a hospital gown. Oh no.

He can already feel his heartrate start to elevate as you continue to talk. "I'll step out while you change, and then the technician will guide you through the process. Do you have any questions?"

"Uh," he begins slowly. Panic is really settling in now, sinking its claws into his chest and making it feel like it's hard to breathe. Was he expected to lay in that metal tube? He really wishes he had paid attention during the screening now. "I actually... kind of forget what an fMRI is?" He's visibly wincing as he says this.

Your face doesn't betray any emotion. "Oh, no worries! So you're going to lay in that metal tube--" you point to the donut machine in the middle of the room. "--after you remove all metals and all clothing and change into the gown. And then the technician's going to ask you some questions while scanning your brain, and then I'm going to come back in here to explain what the scan means." You pause and he watches as your eyes flit over his face, concern filling their depths. "Are you okay, Bokuto?"

Deciding he's already embarrassed himself enough in front of you, he simply nods. He hopes that the panic isn't expressing on his features and that you ask all the participants that while looking so concerned, but he knows better. The panic probably is obvious, and your concern is well-placed, but he's strong enough to lay in a small, enclosed space for however long it takes! Right?

You don't look convinced, but you nod and exit the room, closing the wooden door behind you. It doesn't take him long to change into the hospital gown, and he takes the chance to look around the room again. Three of the four walls are blank, and the fourth has windows and a door revealing an attached room. He watches someone he doesn't recognize enter said room, sitting down in front of a computer and pulling a narrow, black tube close to their mouth.

"Hey Bokuto," the person says, their voice echoing from hidden speakers. "How're you doing today?"

Bokuto finds himself trying harder than before to slow his breathing, to focus on the cool floor underneath his bare feet. "Uh, I'm good," he replies. Another voice crack betrays his words. He takes a few steps closer to the windows. "How long is this supposed to take?"

The technician doesn't look up at him, instead opting to continue typing at their computer. "No longer than an hour and a half," they promise, and Bokuto feels his heart drop and his throat constrict.

An hour and a half in a small, enclosed space. We totally got this. We're gonna be so good and she's gonna fall in love with how fearless we are. He takes a deep breath as he turns on his feet, clinging to the feeling of the tiles. He places one hand on the metal tube, focusing on the chill and whirring that emanate from it.

"Just lie on the table, and I'll come help with the headrest." That voice echoes again, invading his ears.

Bokuto nods again, although it's unnecessary, and he lays on the table as instructed. There's a contraption of sorts near the top, and he assumes that's what the technician meant by headrest. He keeps his neck at an angle, hovering over said headrest as the technician enters the room.

"I know it seems kind of scary," they say as they fiddle with the device. Bokuto hears clicks and snaps before the technician gently pushes down on his head. "But it'll be over super quick. If you're too stressed out, don't worry."

He's about to open his mouth to speak, but then the clicking and snapping sounds resume and he watches as a black bar appears just at the edge of his vision. When he tries to lift his head, he finds that he's stuck. Stuck, and about to be in a closed space.

The technician smiles down at him, and he finds himself wishing you were still in the room. "Comfy?"

"Yeah," he croaks, lying through his teeth. The edge of the headrest is digging into his neck, it's hard to breathe, and his skin is breaking out in a cold sweat. He's feeling the exact opposite of comfortable right now.

The technician fades from view, faint footsteps reaching his ears as the sound of a door opening and closing is heard. The whirring gets louder as he feels the table move, and suddenly he's in the donut.

The whirring is deafening. The tunnel is cold, so cold. He can feel his blood rushing in his ears, can hear his heart beating at a mile a minute. He can feel the stinging bite of the table beneath him, the dig of the headrest into his neck. His senses are on hyper alert, and he realizes with a jolt that there's tears threatening to spill out of his eyes.

He registers that the technician's voice is coming out of the hidden speakers again, but he can't process a single word they're saying. He can't process anything that's going on, too overwhelmed by his senses and panic. He hears the sound of someone taking gasping breaths -- is that him? Is he producing those noises?

Grounding techniques. What'd we learn in intro to psych? C'mon, think, think, think...

But it's no use. He can't recall the information he learned about panic attacks in a class he took three years ago, but he's sure he's experiencing one now. He tries to move his head again, but it's held firmly in place. "Oh god," he manages to choke out, and the tears begin flowing freely.

Seconds tick by slowly, way too slowly. He's desperately trying not to thrash around, trying to focus on the sensations below his fingertips when he realizes his fingers have gone numb. His toes have gone numb. Panic. Panic. Panic.

And suddenly, the whirring fades. The table moves again, and your face floods his vision. That look of concern you had earlier is still there, but so much more palpable. "Bokuto?" Your voice is soft, tender.

"Y-Yeah?" he whispers. His voice is ragged, the complete opposite. He's worried he'll see pity mix with the concern in your eyes, and he's watching them intently while desperately fighting the rising panic.

"Can you do me a favor?" Quiet. Your voice is quiet, soothing his fraying nerves.

He tries to nod, but the headrest prevents him from doing so. You seem to realize this as your fingers work deftly to unlatch it, and, once he's free, he flies up into a sitting position. He's slouched over himself, hand grasping at the fabric over his heart, willing breath to enter his lungs.

"Bokuto," you say again, laying a tentative hand on his shoulder. He snaps his head towards you, and he can only wonder what you're seeing. Do I remind you of a wild animal?

"Count backwards from 10 with me, okay?"

This time he nods successfully.

"Ten." He struggles to get the word out, feeling a vice-like grip on his throat that he knows isn't real, but logic never beats panic. Your voice is sweet compared to his.

"Nine." The hold loosens, and he can feel the air slowly but surely make its way to his lungs.

"Eight. Seven. Six." He likes the way his voice sounds in harmony with yours.

"Five." It's easier to breathe now, and he can actually hear you clearly.

"Four." His heartbeat is slowing, and the goosebumps that were covering his skin have almost entirely vanished.

"Three. Two." Air, sweet delicious air, flows freely in his body.

"One." And just like that, most of his panic is gone.

A smile's on your features again. It's cautious, like you're approaching a stray animal. "Do you feel better?"

"Uhh, yeah," he manages to say. He notices that your hand never left his shoulder, and he feels warm again. He hesitates to look at your eyes, but he does anyways.

There's not a single drop of pity in them. Just kindness, compassion, and understanding. "The fMRI machine can be pretty scary," you admit. "I struggled my first time too."

"Really?"

"Yeah, they had to give me Xanax." Your smile grows and it's accompanied by a light laugh. "Do you want to try again, or should we reschedule for a later date?"

He lets out a sigh, feeling the remainder of his panic leave his body. "Um, can we reschedule?"

You nod. "Of course. What day works best for you?"

☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･::･★彡･::･☆

information:

bokuto does not plan on speaking a word of this to anyone ever in his life

he really wishes he paid attention during the screening interview

kiyoko was secretly praying on bokuto's downfall because she KNOWS bokuto's lowkey your type but she thinks you're just too smart for him

☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･:*:･★彡･:*:･☆彡･::･★彡･::･☆

bonus:

translations:

"que pasa" = what happened? (in spanish)

"tudo bem" = everything okay? (in portuguese)

[bookskeepers]

imagine you're just walking down the street, hand enclosed in tsukishima kei's, and you're both in college but it's summer break so you're visiting him and his family in miyagi.

none of the other karasuno vbc boys attend the university that you and tsukki do, but yamaguchi knows you exist and has met you before. of course he does, he and tsukki are best friends.

anyways, you've heard about how tsukki was in high school, both from yams and tsukki himself. aloof, cold, borderline mean -- he still acts that way towards others, but rarely towards you (unless you're bantering, of course (which is frequently)). he's seldom mean to you both on purpose, slightly less so accidentally.

so when you hear someone call, "tsukishima!" from behind you, and he slips his hand out of yours as if it's instinctual, you think this might be another one of those times where he's being mean by accident. you watch as he whips around, eyes alight with an emotion you can't quite identify, face pink from a blush as if he was caught during some scandalous act.

you turn around at a slower pace, trailing your eyes from his golden optics to where he's looking at -- a short, bright-haired ginger boy and a taller, darker-haired guy. they're holding hands, and you feel a pang of jealousy -- tsukishima's friends are comfortable to show their relationship in front of him, but he doesn't feel the same to show you off to them.

"hey shrimpy," you hear him say, his low tone tinged with that mean edge you've come to recognize. "see you haven't grown any taller since i left."

you don't pick up on 'shrimpy's' response, nor do you hear any other part of the conversation. your heartbeat's too loud and all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears, feeling the familiar prickles of jealousy and anger begin to invade your system. the conversation is brief, however; the dark-haired man glares at tsukishima before rolling his eyes and tugging the ginger away. when they're no longer in sight, tsukishima seems to realize he's no longer holding your hand.

he reaches for it again, apologies written in his eyes as he intwines his fingers with yours once more. "sorry," he says after a bit of uncomfortable, tense silence. "seeing those two triggers my fight or flight response."

you're not used to hearing him say 'sorry,' so it catches you off-guard when you do. you glance at him, holding eye-contact. "so it's not because you're ashamed to be with me?"

"what?" he seems genuinely appalled. "no, of course not." he uses his grip between your fingers to pull you closer and plant a kiss on your forehead. "didn't you hear what i said?"

you shake your head. he gives you a soft smile, one that you know's reserved just for you. "well, they asked me who you were and i said you're my lovely partner."

a blush makes its way up your cheeks, and you try to focus on the conversation that just happened -- if you strain your mind, you realize that tsukki did, in fact, introduce you as his partner. and the ginger's response comes to the forefront of your brain, as well. "did you agree to go on a double date with them?"

"yeah, i did," tsukki responds. he presses another kiss to your face, this time planting his lips on your own. soft, sweet, chaste -- none of which were adjectives anyone would use to describe your tall, blonde partner. "it's about time i show you off to my friends, right?"

[bookskeepers]

the neuroscience of falling in love ★ chapter two

content warnings: less funny than the last chapter [in my opinion but also i didn't reread it yet so this could be completely incorrect]. more portuguese. bokuto's in love. hinata uses grammar. kiyoko threatens murder. really bad pickup line. heavily suggestive content between kuroo and y/n.

previous ★ masterlist ★ next

ignore timestamps pls

taglist: @punkhazardlaw

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translations:

"nao meu. eu escrevo atras meu dormi" = not me. i write in my sleep

"eu tenho uma resposta" = i have an answer

"desculpe" = sorry

"sim bokuto sim" = yes bokuto yes

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information:

akaashi is, perhaps, the only person ensuring bokuto is actually on track with participating in the sleep study

y/n read the first page of bokuto's sleep journal and got really confused because the first line was "dear journal, today i ate my usual protein shake" and the rest of the page was the recipe, ingredients, and nutritional information of the protein shake

hinata is fluent in gen alpha slang and uses it exclusively to piss tsukishima off

akaashi still thinks bokuto should go to therapy

bokuto stared at his phone for 5 minutes before coming up with the "classes come second to advancement in science" response. he was really proud of it

your response made him embarrassed and he typed random words in a sentence before throwing his phone on his bed and leaving the apartment

hinata only uses grammar for comedy purposes

bokuto truly believes the 3:30pm on tuesday meeting is to hang out with you. he's a little confused on how neuroscience studies work but he's got spirit at least

kuroo did not realize how his request to his housemates sounded until after he sent it and he regretted it immensely

y/n managed to stay the night at kuroo's without being spotted by akaashi or bokuto tho, which was impressive

they got up to usual "2 horny college students in one room" shenanigans

y/n is currently not speaking to yachi, yamaguchi, or kiyoko because of the "y/ntervention"

yachi is very proud of "y/ntervention"

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bonus!

[bookskeepers]

the neuroscience of falling in love ☆ chapter one

content warnings: crack. pure, unadulterated crack. hinata speaks awful portuguese. lots of "bro" puns. twitter wars. mean yachi. mention of throwing up

a/n: i gave up on editing timestamps, so please ignore them. it's the beginning of september right now!

previous ☆ masterlist ☆ next

taglist: @punkhazardlaw (send an ask to be put on the taglist pls, i won't be able to keep track of comments)

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translations:

"feche sua boca, rato" = shut your mouth, mouse; "sim" = yes

"com quem? ay dios mio" = with who? oh my god (ay dios mio is spanish)

"voce nao fala portugues" = you do not speak portuguese

"אלוהים יעזור לי" = god help me

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information:

yachi was having a difficult time with anatomy and she accidentally took her frustrations out on everyone else

bokuto was beguiled by your professionalism and your teetering-on-the-brink-of-business-casual-and-casual clothing during his screening

he was 93% convinced he was giving you his number for reasons other than the study (he's a little delusional)

yamaguchi has tsukishima on a leash. no one knows why

yachi and hinata have something going on and if yachi's having a stress-induced stomach ache, mentioning her thing with hinata is a great way to get her to go sleep regardless of what time it is

tanaka has influenced kiyoko's vocabulary but she's in HELLA denial lol

y/n's about as dense as a brick when it comes to anything not-neuroscience related. also she doesn't follow bokuto's private account

bokuto's been staring at the "follow" button on y/n's private account for three hours though (akaashi told him the handle)

kuroo hasn't told akaashi or bokuto about what's going on with him and y/n and now he thinks he should but he doesn't know how to phrase it

bokuto's a big fan of bro code but kuroo knows that if bokuto actually falls for someone bro code flies out the window [it's never been an issue until now tho]

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[bookskeepers]

the neuroscience of falling in love - bokuto kōtarō

pairing: timeskip ! college ! bokuto kōtaro x fem ! reader

content warnings: some heavily suggestive content (MDNI). a bit of kuroo x reader. mentions of alcohol. definitely some darker humor. other languages (bad portuguese from Hinata, fluent Hebrew from reader). typical college shenanigans. will add more as series progresses; each chapter will also have its own warnings

a/n: will update this as i make more chapters i promise. also shoutout to @barleyo for being my sounding board

navigation!

📲 for texting; 🌳 for writing

twitter account introductions | groupchat information

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teaser 📲

chapter one 📲

chapter two 📲

chapter three 🌳

chapter four 📲

chapter five 📲

chapter six 🌳

chapter seven 📲

chapter eight

[bookskeepers]

the neuroscience of falling in love - bokuto kōtarō

pairing: timeskip ! college ! bokuto kōtarō x fem ! reader

content warnings: some heavily suggestive content (MDNI). a bit of kuroo x reader. mentions of alcohol. definitely some darker humor. other languages (bad portuguese from Hinata, fluent Hebrew from reader). typical college shenanigans. will add more as series progresses

series masterlist

introductions!

y/n l/n, a.k.a. you!

neuroscience major

you come off as very professional everywhere except for your private twitter account

third year of uni - working on your honor's thesis... woohoo...

you're studying sleep and the effects of deprivation on performance in athletes

luckily your entire friend group is athletes who are prone to sleep deprivation, exciting stuff

besties with: kiyoko shimizu, yachi hitoka, yamaguchi tadashi (lives with the 3 of them)

knows tsukishima kei through yamaguchi

knows kuroo because y'all were a situationship/are a situationship; it's a little weird and he makes very sexual jokes towards you

currently shares a class with akaashi keiji (it's an anthropology class you're taking as an elective because your schedule was too barebones otherwise -- damn your tendency to take 24 credits per semester)

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bokuto kōtarō

professional volleyball player -- majoring in nutrition because he wants to stay healthy

third year

was originally in control of the Verified twitter account until he yapped too much on there and management gave the reins to a PR specialist

he's very upset about it

besties with akaashi keiji, kuroo tetsurou (the three of them live together)

hasn't met y/n despite kuroo and y/n's relationship (kuroo doesn't talk about it either

actually meets y/n through akaashi keiji, although we'll see that later

he and hinata are pals too because they're on the same team

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akaashi keiji

literature major; pursuing his dream of working as an editor (slowly but surely)

third year

regretting his co-op program with the manga editor every day (even though he enjoys the free manga)

his housing arrangement was because of bokuto's insistence that they "take kuroo in" like kuroo was a stray

he and y/n were paired on a group project in their shared anthro class once, that's how he has y/n's number

definitely on the fruitier side, but he also keeps to himself

secretly a party animal. no one was expecting that

lowkey crushing hard on tsukishima but he doesn't talk about it (who he knows through bokuto)

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kuroo tetsurou

chemistry / biochemistry double major because "i hate myself" (his words not mine)

third year

met y/n their freshman year in their shared intro to general chemistry lab

he spilt aqueous sodium bicarbonate on her. she was not happy

their situationship started in their 2nd year though

he's ... not sure how he feels about her beyond the sex but it's okay because she's also not sure

besties with bokuto, tolerates akaashi (akaashi tolerates him back)

is the reason their apartment is spotless though

also good friend with hinata (hinata is good friends w him) and tsukishima (definitely one sided)

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hinata shoyo

also majoring in nutrition because he's following bokuto's footsteps (and two brains are better than one when it comes to college)

third year

lives with tsukishima (despite tsukishima being very unhappy about this) because he found a really good deal on a 2-bedroom apartment right before their second year started and everyone else already had a roommate, save for tsukishima

like bokuto, lost access to his main account because he yapped too much, hence the private

he's very upset he only has 7 followers

chronically on pokemon go - his proudest achievement is hatching a shiny mudkip as his first ever egg

will bother you about trading + adding him on pokemon go all the time

has dragged tsukishima to campus for raids

knows bokuto through MSBY (they're besties), knows akaashi and kuroo through bokuto, knows yamaguchi, tsukishima, kiyoko, and yachi from karasuno; knows y/n through yachi

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yamaguchi tadashi

conservation major! also spends most of his money on books. he calls himself a hypocrite

third year

met y/n in their intro to bio class. best friends ever since

has lived with y/n + kiyoko + yachi since the start of his third year, since their 4th roommate moved out

no one knows if he and tsukishima are dating or just friends

#1 gossip at utokyo (he and kiyoko know everything at all times)

he's also secretly a mastermind and definitely the group matchmaker, all of the people he's set up have lasted 1+ years or are still dating (he's failed constantly with y/n though)

knows of y/n + kuroo's situationship and tries really hard not to judge and fails miserably

y/n's his #1 confidant and vice versa

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tsukishima kei

archaeology / anthropology double major

third year

his honor's thesis is going to focus on dinosaurs

he is pretty good friends with hinata despite his annoyance with the ginger's existence

definitely not as close to kuroo as kuroo likes to say they are

the relationship between him and yamaguchi is either romantic or platonic as hell and no one knows which one it is

will outright judge y/n

often hangs out with yamaguchi and "the girls" because their apartment is homier than his (hinata tags along sometimes too bc karasuno reunion)

also judggling sendai frogs volleyball while studying, but he makes it work while achieving perfect scores

will flex on you

yamaguchi changed his twitter banner and bio and he can't be assed to change it back

the 12 people he's following and the 12 who are following him are slightly different

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yachi hitoka

art + graphic design double major

third year

lots of overlap between her majors so she isn't dying 24/7

her 74 followers (save for her friends) are all people that follow for her art content that she barely posts

she often draws her friends mid-volleyball poses

attends every game of tsukishima's and drags the girls + yamaguchi along (although yamaguchi plans on going anyways)

#1 supporter of everything her friends do, very wholesome

definitely something going on between her and hinata though... although she never talks about it unless drunk and she is rarely ever drunk

knows bokuto through hinata and occasionally asks hinata and bokuto for nutrition advice

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kiyoko shimizu

operations and informations management major (essentially coding and business combined)

third year

absolute girlboss - takes no shit

#1 gossiper (along with yamaguchi)

frequently judges y/n for her situationship with kuroo

would die for her friends

has had incidents with stalkers

she and tanaka are long distance

easily the busiest out of all the characters in terms of coursework and trackstar-ing and girlbossing but she always, without fail, makes time to hang with her friends

literal queen

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utokyo sleep lab

y/n runs this account for the lab she works in

very popular on campus because they tend to offer monetary reimbursement for study participants

y/n occasionally posts stuff she means to post on her private on this account (she gets reprimanded for it and also people make fun of her for it for days)

everyone present in this story follows this twitter account

tsukishima has partaken in a sleep study before too