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mae-gi-writes · 29 days ago

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let it be me | kuroo tetsurou (1)

In which you, as a new divorcée, can't help but crush on your 4-year-old's new PE Coach.

genre: singleparent!reader x coach! Kuroo, fluff, acquaintances-to-lovers

---- part one | next part >>>

You know Kuroo Tetsurou before you officially meet him.

Why? Because he's practically a legend to your current four-year-old who's been talking about him nonstop from the moment you've strapped her into the car on the way back home.

"Apparently he was a--a volleyball champ!" Sakura chimes from the back as you swerve into the right lane in the direction of your tiny flat, "he knows how to serve from faaaar away, and --and when he serves, it's like--kapow! and boom! and whoosh! like that!"

You can't help but laugh because seeing your daughter so excited about volleyball is something you hadn't been expecting, not when you have two left feet and a stamina of a tiny pet rat.

"I'm glad you enjoyed your first week back," you meet her eyes in the rearview mirror with a smile, "that's good isn't it? Better than last year then?"

"Yes! I love Kuroo sensei!"

It seems that this particular teacher has specifically changed Sakura's view on school, and you had made a mental note to thank him.

But all thoughts of thank-yous and praise had flown out of your head the moment you bump into the said PE teacher in the corridor leading up to Sakura's class the next morning.

"Oh I'm so sorry!" You cry out, bending down to help him pick up the stack of papers that are now flying about and scattering at your feet, "here, let me help you--"

"It's Kuroo sensei!" Sakura chirps suddenly, causing your eyes to snap up at him.

Oh. So that's the PE teacher she's been gushing about all week. You're quick to shove the papers into a messy pile before handing them out to him, "I'm really sorry about that," you say sheepishly.

"Nothing to worry about," his deep voice is what catches your attention at first, followed by his height as he straightens up so that you get a clear view of his facce; angular features, honey-golden eyes that blink slowly at you in a way that makes you want to squirm, and messy dark raven locks that looks like he's just rolled out of bed five minutes ago.

Not that you won't mind if he rolled out of your bed, you mind chanted without warning.

You stop it as soon as it surfaces, horror and panic crashing into you at the same time. This man is--what? Probably half your age?

"Kuroo sensei! Do we have class with you later?" Sakura, unknowing of all the tormenting thoughts flickering past your brain, seems all too excited to see her PE teacher.

He chuckles lightly before ruffling her short bangs, "not today, little munchkin," he leans down to see her face, "but I'm pretty certain that we have class tomorrow. How about that?"

"Oh really? Yay!" Sakura claps, beaming up at him like he's just put a new sun in her sky, and Kuroo grins before straightening up once more, gold eyes clashing against your dark maroon.

"I don't think we've met," his voice, it's so deep and gravelly that it makes you want to swoon. You snap out of it the moment you spot his outstretched hand, "I'm Kuroo Tetsurou, the new PE teacher."

"So you're the new teacher that Sakura's been talking about all this time," you send him a shy smile as you shake his hand, realizing that his palm practically dwarfs yours in comparison, "it's nice to meet you. I'm Sakura's mum. How are you enjoying the school?"

"It's been really great actually," his grin widens. He has a beautiful smile, one that will easily make all the ladies of staff fall at his feet, "I'm slowly finding my way around the timetable, but other than that it's been smooth-sailing till now."

You nod, "that's great. I'm glad to hear," and then turn to your daughter, "you know where your class is right?"

"Of course I know mum," Sakura folds her arms across her chest indignantly.

You laugh, ruffling her hair before ushering her onwards, "alright alright. Yes, you're a big now. Then off you go."

You both watch her teeter down the hall, sometimes almost falling off-balance due to her newly-acquired skill of running with the weight of her bag around her shoulders, and fondness explodes across your chest. It's sweet and bitter at the same time, watching your daughter grow day by day. She's always changing, you realize, every day is a new one, maybe her hair gets longer, or you find a new mole along her face. It's like she's growing so fast you barely have time to savour it.

"Cute kid you have there."

You realize you're not alone upon hearing the familiar scratchy alto, and quickly blink back to reality, "ah--thank you. She can be a handful when she wants. Sometimes."

"All kids are," Kuroo tilts his head towards you, a smile on his face, "but sometimes I think they know more than we do."

You can't help but chortle, "definitely. Sakura's practically a know-it-all. She's in the phase of correcting everything that I say."

"Ooh, a bit bossy huh?"

"Tell me about it."

It's then that the bell rings, disrupting any kind of moment you might have with the PE teacher.

"Anyway," you dip your head into a small bow, "thank you for taking care of Sakura."

"It's really no trouble, miss...?"

"It's Y/N. Y/N Kosuke."

"Y/N," his golden orbs locks on yours, swirling with a kind of playfulness, with a warmth that makes your heart stutter, "well, I shall see you around, Ms. Kosuke-san."

And with that, he swerves away with a small wave as you watch his broad back disappear down the hallway, wondering whether it's stupid to imagine whether he'd winked at you or not.

Probably not.

Because why would anyone be interested in a mom right?

-----

The second time you bump into Kuroo Tetsurou is during Sports Day.

You remember back when you were in high school, how you'd always find an excuse to skip out on the activities -- feigning your period or cramps just to get to the nurse's office and away from your classmates -- just so that you could sit and daydream about anything and just about everything. You weren't that popular in your cohort, making it easy for you to disappear whenever you wished. But despite that, you could count on your hands the number of times you'd replaced someone and failed to deliver, causing wave after wave of disappointment as you lost team points as a result.

But now, as a grown up responsible for a child and always accustomed to doing whatever they liked even if that meant bringing you unhappiness or shame, you were obliged to attend such events. Actually enjoyed being there and watching Sakura giving it her all despite her short limbs and her lack of talent in sports. From what you can see, she clearly hasn't taken from her dad's side. Every single flaw in physical movement comes down from your side of the family and at the thought, a smile curves at the edges of your lips as you proceed to clap even harder.

"Is Papa going to be there tomorrow?" asks your daughter the night before as you're tucking her into bed. Her wide eyes are staring up at you like you're the one who can change anything in her world. And yet, just the thought that you can't grant her this one wish makes your heart quake.

You press a soft kiss along her forehead before smoothing over her features, "i'm sorry honey. I'm not sure if he'll be able to come tomorrow."

"Why not?"

"He has work to do. But he promises to be there this weekend," you try to smile, though it's hard when Sakura's face doesn't light up like it usually does at the mention of her father. That's when you prod, "everything okay, Sakura?"

Your daughter merely turns away to hide her face against her pillow. Her mumble comes out soft and practically a whisper. But you can still hear her loud and clear.

"Why doesn't he ever come?"

Your heart drops to your stomach. You move to hug her, in hopes of appeasing the pain she feels. But she's right, you can't do anything about it. About this. It's a selfish act, the act of divorcing the one whom you thought would've been your lifelong partner till the day you die. And yet, you hadn't been strong enough for her sake.

And Sakura's the one victim to all consequences that follow.

Because how can you tell her? That her father has decided to choose someone else -- another woman, instead of staying by his family and taking on his responsibilities as he should? How could you tell her that her own father has abandoned her?

Sakura isn't stupid. She's well aware of everything that happens around her. But such words coming out of her own mouth causes your own eyes to burn with tears.

"Papa loves you. He's just--busy with work. But you know that he loves you so so much right?" you hope that your murmur is enough to appease her.

And it does, for now.

Sakura snuggles closer to your bosom, small fingers gripping your t-shirt as though she doesn't want you to leave, "will you stay with me until I fall asleep?" she murmurs through closed eyelids.

You nod, smooth one hand over her forehead, "yeah. Sleep now, okay? Tomorrow's a big day."

Hence the reason why you're here. Burning under the midday sun. Hat poised over your head, and a piece of stray paper from your office that you're using as a makeshift fan.

Until now, it's proven itself useless in response to the heat.

"Come on, Greens!"

That familiar alto. Raspy and velvet like chocolate. It makes your eyes swipe right to the source only to see none other than the PE coach.

Kuroo Tetsurou is bathed in sweat as he stands by the sidelines, cap over his messy hair and eyes never straying from the row of students balancing potatoes across their tiny spoons. His t-shirt is practically soaked through from the back, showing off his array of muscles twisting and twining like vines around a bark of a tree, and when he crosses his arms over his chest you take note of the swell of his biceps. Taunting, tantalizing.

He's a catch, is what your mind thinks.

You shut it down immediately. What's the point of daydreaming when you're not ready to commit to anything? Not even a fling?

No. You'd much rather stay alone. You know exactly how it feels like to be loved and to lose that love by someone whom you thought had your heart as much as you had his. And you weren't in a rush to fall into that trap once again.

It's finally Sakura's turn and almost subconsciously, you straighten up in the bleachers to get a better look at your daughter all decked in Blue. She's holding out her spoon, tongue sticking out in concentration just as a teacher places a potato right in the middle of it.

Catching your eye from where you sit, she gives you a wide beam, all teeth, and you grin back, doing a silly little wriggle of your fingers. You do the mistake of glancing back towards your right only to meet the PE coach's eyes by mistake.

He grins a Cheshire cat smile, as if he knows that he's been caught but he doesn't care, and your own smile turns shy, ducking your head and soon averting your eyes.

The whistle sounds. The race is on.

"C'mon Sakura!" You yell as loud as you can, watching your daughter waddle in what you hope is a straight line. She's second at this point, trying hard not to lose her potato as her classmate -- a red -- blunders right through without hesitation, "C'mon Sakura! You can do it!"

Your daughter all but wobbles, lips parted in concentration as another boy zooms past. You cup your lips using your hands and shout with all your might, "C'mon Sakura! Faster!"

She finishes in third place, not a bad start for her sports confidence, and comes running straight up to you so that you pick her up with a whoop.

"That's my girl!" You nuzzle into her sweaty hair, "aren't you a big champ?!"

"Did you see mum?! I'm third!" she flaps her arms around, "I'm third! Will I get a medal?!"

"You sure will," you pinch her cheek, "and you did great! I didn't know you were good at balancing potatoes!"

"Next time I'll come in first!"

"Then we'll have to practice at home," you chuckle.

It isn't until the end of the Sports day that Kuroo Tetsurou finds you amidst the horde of parents making their way to the parking lot.

"Hey," he calls out to you as you're opening your trunk. You wave at him, slightly embarrassed as you recall the way he'd locked eyes with you briefly on the field. You strive for nonchalance as you say, "how's it going, coach?"

"Not bad, how about you?" he walks straight up to the car, waving at Sakura from the backseat before turning his attention back on you. You and the multiple bags you're organizing, "what's this?"

"Oh it's for an event," you huff out and pull a bag up into the trunk.

"Here," Kuroo's hand reaches for the next one, "let me help."

"Oh--uhm--" you weren't expecting such chivalry. Heat rises to the back of your neck and you're glad it's a hot summer's day, for you're quite certain your cheeks are flaming, "thank you."

"No problem," he sets the last bag into the trunk, pushing it all the way so that it's secure, "what kind of event is it anyway?"

"It's a corporate event," you explain as he closes the trunk for you, "I'm an event planner."

Something lights up in his golden pupils. He whistles, "haven't heard of that one before," a small smile curves at his lips, "what's the weirdest event you'd had to plan?"

"Oh don't get me started on that," you shudder, "I once had a themed birthday party, but they wanted their party to be set in changing rooms, with the theme 'haunted toilets'."

"Wha--no way," Kuroo bursts out laughing. He has a very nice smile, and a laugh that is contagious. You can't help but grin at him, "is that even legal?"

"Well if they pay you to hire your changing rooms, wouldn't you do it?"

“I suppose so,” you snort, “as long as they pay me.”

He chuckles once more, the sound rumbling through his chest and almost making you swoon. God, he's attractive, even more so when he's all sweaty for some unknown reason.

You hurriedly try to end conversation when you feel your tummy tingle with those familiar butterflies, "well--It was nice meeting you again, Coach."

"Likewise," he tips his head towards you, "and I think you've got yourself a pro athlete back there."

That makes you chortle, "I'm not quite sure, Sakura's been graced with my lack of coordination."

"I wouldn't say so. She came in third, didn't she?"

"You're right," a small smile curves at your lips, "well anyway, thank you. For everything. You're probably exhausted."

"I am, but you're good company," he grins.

Butterflies erupt through your chest and you know without a doubt that this is your cue to leave, and quickly bow to him, "thanks again Coach, see you around."

"See you," a pause, before he adds, "get home safe."

These are simple words, won't that do't matter as much and can be said oh-so-politely. But still, it makes your heart beat so fast you feel it echoing through your chest. You try not to show him your blush as you slide into the driver's seat and watch him raise a hand in mid-wave as you pull out of the parking lot. Sakura waves back with as much excitement and you wonder briefly whether she likes him so much because of the lack of father figure in your household.

Your phone rings then and you scramble for it from the passenger seat, barely able to press down on the green button as you keep your eyes on the road.

"Hello," you place it on loudspeaker and drop it to your lap as you make a turn for the motorway, "hello?"

"Hey, it's me."

Oh.

"Papa!" Sakura's exclamation comes from the back, almost makes you skid off the road as you quickly right yourself with a silent curse. Why in the world is he calling now? It's almost like he knows you were having a good time.

"Aoi," your mumble spills out, "how are you?"

"Good, good." a small pause. "how was sports day?"

"Was great, you missed Sakura in her potato-run," you try not to let the bitterness affect your tone, though it's harder to manage than expected, "how was Cali?"

"Very nice actually, Sakura would've loved it. It's warm, with beaches, and people are always doing stuff. It's a nice city."

Of course it's nice when his new wife owns a mansion and no fees are to be paid for the household. Especially nice when his new wife's family has a multi-national jewelry business and a cash flow that seems neverending.

So you cut to the chase, "why'd you call?"

"Jeez y/n," he laughs, "so brutal. Can't I even ask you how you've been?"

"I've been well, so has Sakura," your patience is running thin, "so tell me, why'd you call? Isn't it like midnight over there?"

"Actually it's still morning," there's amusement in his tone, the kind that makes you want to hurl something at him, "but anyway, I was calling to let you know about the papers."

He doesn't have to mention which papers. You know exactly what he's talking about, "what about them?"

"I've already signed them and sent them your way. You should be receiving them by the end of the week."

"Yes, and?"

There's a bout of hesitation from his side, "and I'd appreciate it if you could sign it as quickly as possible."

Another needle to your gut, "that's fine but...why the rush?"

"Ah well," you don't have to see him to know that he's currently scratching the back of his neck, a nervous tick of his whenever he's unsure or nervous. You hate that you know that about him, "we're--we might be getting married in a few months."

You're so shocked you almost barrel straight into the vehicle in front of you.

-----

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quirrrky · 2 months ago

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IWAIZUMI HAJIME, your big brother’s best friend, who always visited your home when they were in high school. You looked up to him the same way you did for your Tooru-nii, until he came home from the States.

You welcomed Hajime with a big hug. You felt safe and protected in his arms that seemed to be more muscular than you could remember. You were so small around him as he grew a lot taller too. His jaw was now chiseled to perfection and he aged so handsomely you got weak in the knees. He‘s no longer the stand-in big brother you once knew. In your eyes, he’s now a man.

He still visited your home frequently even when your Tooru-nii’s already in Argentina. You tried your best to look pretty and mature but he always ruffled your hair like a little child.

You watched as you saw a woman talking to him—flirtatiousness was evident in her actions. It’s only normal that a lot of ladies fancied him since he's quite a catch, but you just couldn’t bear to see it.

You caught him saw you but you pretended not to notice and chose to walk away instead. He kept calling your name and you felt his hand on your elbow, stopping you from walking.

“Hey, it’s late at night. I’ll walk you home.”

Tears involuntarily fell from your eyes and he was quick to notice. He cupped your head with both of his hands, caressing and comforting you. “What’s wrong huh? What happened?” he asked so sweetly yet it broke your heart even more. You were just a little sister after all.

“Nothing. Burn out, I guess,” you responded, concealing the truth.

You gazed upon him, giving him a lonely smile with vulnerability shrouding your orbs. His eyes turned half-lidded the longer you stare. You tiptoed, reaching out for him and he leaned closer and closer until your lips met, tentatively. It was soft and gentle but it wasn’t enough so you kissed some more. His lips were treading yours as if he was savoring something he couldn’t believe was happening.

You parted to take a breath. His eyes caught yours as you both heaved in longing and want.

“I’m sorry,” he said and you were left accepting your fate as your heart broke into pieces in his arms. Perhaps, one kiss was enough to know that he couldn’t see you the same way. “Y/N, I’m sorry…I can’t be your big brother anymore.”

Your eyes widened in hopeful disbelief. “Then don’t, Hajime.” you said, breathlessly.

“Are you sure?” he asked through the rise and fall of his chest.

“I am-“

And he captured you in a fervent kiss. His arms wrapped tightly around you, squeezing you closer to him as he devoured you with his lips. He took out all the frustrations of trying to be your stand-in big brother as an excuse to stay close to you. All this time he’d rather scoop you into his strong arms than ruffle your hair. How much he wanted to tell you how beautiful you were and how mesmerized he was of you ever since he had come home from the States. He’s down so bad he kept on thinking how it would be like to kiss you so passionately like this. Oh, how badly Hajime wanted be more than just your brother’s best friend but be your man.

#iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi fluff #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #hq x reader #iwaizumi drabble #iwaizumi scenario #haikyuu drabble #haikyuu scenario #hq scenario #hq drabble #hq iwaizumi #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi x y/n

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hatsukeii · 2 months ago

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the curious case of kageyama tobio's love life / kageyama tobio x reader

genre(s): crack + fluff! timeskip au (third year/graduation), investigative report format, secretly dating trope, drunk x sober LMFAO

warnings(s): drunk people and house parties... (underage drinking is not! recommended here!), defs multiple/many uses of y/n because of how the fic is formatted but you need to trust the process PLEASE (sorry!) also reader's ass gets slapped by kags as a dare...

wc: ~4k

tldr; below is a transcript, recounted by partygoers hinata shoyo, tsukishima kei, yachi hitoka, and yamaguchi tadashi, of the happenings at hinata shoyo's graduation house party, set on the night of 29th march. any and all hearings have been sworn to be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. they think. probably.

[Report #1- Initiated by Hinata Shoyo]

Date of occurrence: March 29

Time of occurrence: 7:20pm

Location of occurrence: Living room

Kageyama Tobio is the third guest to arrive at Hinata Shoyo's residence, twenty minutes after Tsukishima Kei and Yamaguchi Tadashi. He carries with him the items that were agreed on the night prior- two twelve-packs of beer, one two litre bottle of coke, one Nintendo switch, and two Nintendo Pro controllers. Upon entry, Hinata Shoyo greets him at the door, and the following conversation ensues between Hinata Shoyo and Kageyama Tobio.

[Transcript #1- provided by Hinata Shoyo]

S. Hinata: You're here, what's good! You got the stuff too?

T. Kageyama: Yeah. Where's everyone else?

S. Hinata: Daichi's on patrol until eight, Suga's picking him up when he's done. Yachi's lining up to pick up the cake with y/n-

T. Kageyama: Cool, I'll put the stuff down there. (He signals to the kitchen counter across the living room)

[End of transcript #1]

Kageyama Tobio proceeds to the television, where he sets up his Nintendo on the dock. He then offers a controller to Tsukishima Kei, who accepts, and joins Kageyama in a game of Super Smash Bros. Upon opening the character menu, half of his characters are unavailable for use, evident by the following conversation that ensues between Tsukishima Kei and Kageyama Tobio.

[Transcript #2- Provided by Tsukishima Kei]

T. Kageyama: What the fuck?

K. Tsukishima: For someone who's had this game since release, you're pretty shit if you can barely move past the starter characters.

T. Kageyama: Shut up. [He proceeds to the home page of his console.]

K. Tsukishima: Sure.

[End of transcript #2]

Kageyama Tobio then leaps to the dock, unplugging it for a total of forty-two (Hinata Shoyo estimates) seconds. During its downtime, he is seen to be wiping his neck with one hand, tapping at the screen with the other. The game of Super Smash Bros ensues when he replugs it onto the dock, to reveal a fully unlocked character selection screen. Kageyama Tobio, who plays Sonic the Hedgehog, loses 1:2 against Tsukishima Kei, who plays Sora. But don't tell him that Hinata Shoyo kept count. Thanks.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

[Report #2- Initiated by Yachi Hitoka]

Date of occurrence: March 29

Time of occurrence: 7:46pm

Location of occurrence: Living room, kitchen

Yachi Hitoka and y/n are the sixth and seventh guests to arrive at Hinata Shoyo's residence. By the time they step foot into the house, Hinata Shoyo is three vodka redbulls in, courtesy of Tanaka Ryunosuke and Nishinoya Yuu's contributions to the party's catalogue of available drinks, and is shooting down a fourth with Yamaguchi Tadashi, who is on his first drink of the night. Tsukishima Kei is one can of beer in, and is wrestling Kageyama Tobio on the couch, who is two cans of beer in. Upon entry, Hinata Shoyo slings an arm around Yamaguchi Tadashi, and drags him along to greet the two guests. The following conversation ensues between Yachi Hitoka, Hinata Shoyo, Yamaguchi Tadashi, and y/n.

[Transcript #3- Provided by Yachi Hitoka]

Y/n: What is going on...?

S. Hinata: You're heeeere! C'mon, take a bit from me! [Hinata Shoyo proceeds to tilt his glass too far into his face, and breathe in roughly 250mL of redbull mixed with vodka. He chokes. Yamaguchi Tadashi attempts to worm out of Hinata Shoyo's grasp. His attempt is unsuccessful.]

H. Yachi: If this is what forty minutes looks like, I don't think I wanna know what happens later.

Y/n: Why are they wrestling like... that?

H. Yachi: Men.

T. Yamaguchi: Men.

S. Hinata: [coughs]

Y/n: Understandable.

[End of transcript #3]

Y/n heads to the kitchen counter, where they set a cake into the fridge. Kageyama Tobio breaks free from Tsukishima Kei's sloppy side pin at this moment. Tsukishima Kei heads for the bathroom, and does not return until twenty minutes later. It is unsure what occurred in the bathroom, but not of importance. Kageyama makes a beeline for the fridge, and stubs his toe on the corner of the kitchen counter. He is...unusually uncoordinated, and barges into the space beside y/n, only to grab a third beer and push his way out again. Y/n shoots him a side eye, one that nobody else notices, except for Yachi Hitoka, who is currently writing this report. It's pretty scary, actually, they're a little scary with the side eye. But that is besides the point.

Y/n does not take a drink, but instead heads to the now empty couch, where they pick up the discarded Nintendo Pro controllers off the ground, and invite Yamaguchi Tadashi and Yachi Hitoka to a game of Super Smash Bros. Upon entering the game, y/n selects Sonic as their character. Kageyama Tobio returns to the couch with a can of beer at this moment, and the following conversation ensues between y/n, and Kageyama Tobio.

[Transcript #4- Provided by Yachi Hitoka]

T. Kageyama: Why aren't you picking Ness?

Y/n: I feel like Sonic today, so why not?

T. Kageyama: Sonic's difficult, even for me. Fun, though.

Y/n: I never get to play Sonic, so now that I can, I'm using him.

T. Kageyama: ...Fair enough.

[End of transcript #4]

Following the conversation, Kageyama Tobio does not leave the area. He leans with his forearms against the edge of the couch, and his hands hanging just above y/n's shoulders. He does, however, watch the game and the game only. Y/n, who plays Sonic the Hedgehog, ties with Yachi Hitoka, who plays Kirby. They both lose to Yamaguchi Tadashi, who plays Joker.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

[Report #3- initiated by Tsukishima Kei]

Date of occurrence: March 29

Time of occurrence: 9:02pm

Location of occurrence: Living room

Disclaimer: Tsukishima Kei would like to preface that from this point onwards, his recounts may be liable to errors in continuity and/or accuracy. This is because by 9pm, he was three cans of beer, and one can of Jack Daniels and coke in. Daichi Sawamura, in his fancy police uniform and all, insisted on staying sober, so he will be fact checking any of Tsukishima Kei's recounts up until the point when he leaves the party prematurely. Daichi Sawamura will be aided by Sugawara Koushi, who also insisted on staying sober. For the children, he said. From Daichi Sawamura and Sugawara Koushi's departures onwards, any and all informtaion provided by Tsukishima Kei is subject to human error and inaccuracies. Apologies for the inconvenience.

[The following is fact checked by Daichi Sawamura and Sugawara Koushi]

Hinata Shoyo, who has managed to hold in four vodka redbulls, one can of beer, and half a vodka cruiser thus far, makes the suggestion to play drunken truth or dare. At this point in time, Kageyama Tobio is three cans of beer, and two cans of Jack Daniels and coke in. He is half-asleep on y/n, who looks visibly distraught, like when a guy you're not really into thinks he's allowed to sleep on your shoulder. At Hinata's proposal of truth or dare, y/n speaks into the air, however, it is inaudible to Tsukishima Kei, who has just returned from another twenty minute break in the bathroom. What can be said? The guy needs his downtime away from the rest of these drunk idiots. (This is a Daichi Sawamura approved comment)

In y/n's hand is a red cup, however, it is unconfirmed whether its contents are alcoholic or not. Everybody sits in a circle on the ground of Hinata Shoyo's living room, and in the fourth round of truth or dare, the following conversation ensues between Hinata Shoyo, y/n, Kageyama Tobio, Tsukishima Kei, and Yachi Hitoka.

[Transcript #5- Provided by Tsukishima Kei (aided by Daichi Sawamura and Sugawara Koushi)]

S. Hinata: Who's to SAYYYY...it isn't somebody...RIGHT HEEEEERE! [Hinata Shoyo swirls a bottled vodka cruiser in circles, and spills rougly 15mL of its contents onto his carpet. Nobody notices this. The carpet is not cleaned until the next morning. This will be of importance.]

T. Kageyama: Yeahhhhh...YEAAAAAAH! It HAAAAS to be somebody here, riiiiiiight?...RIIIIIIIGHT? [Kageyama Tobio nudges y/n's shoulders as he prods on. His inquisition is futile, as y/n does not respond directly to his advances. However, they shoot him a look. You know, the look of panic when a guy that you're a little bit into starts totally hitting on you in front of everyone.]

Y/n: Yachi's question was are you into anybody. Yes, I am. Who's next?

K. Tsukishima: Well...it's no FUN if you're not telling us whooooo! C'monnn, a guy hits on you every other day...it's BOOOOORING if you don't tell usssssss...specifics! Yeah, specifics!

T. Kageyama: You're...stiiiiiill getting hit on by OTHERRRR GUYSSSSS? [Kageyama Tobio proceeds to grab y/n by the shoulders, and turn them to face himself. Y/n is visibly taken aback. They shoot another look. the kind of look where your mouth is open and you suddenly stop blinking because you aren't sure how to anymore.]

Y/n: Can we...can we please move on to the next person? Thanks! [Y/n taps Kageyama Tobio's wrists two times. Kageyama Tobio releases y/n from his grasp, and folds his arms.]

H. Yachi: Goooooootcha! [Yachi Hitoka takes a swig from a red cup. Its contents are known to be cream soda and vodka in a 7:1 ratio, courtesy of Hinata Shoyo's contributions to the party's catalogue of available drinks. At this moment, Yachi Hitoka is two drinks in, and that is already two drinks too many.] So, Yamaguchi! Truuuuuuuth...or dare?

[End of transcript #5]

This round of truth or dare continues for another thirteen minutes. No further interactions are recorded between Kageyama Tobio and y/n within this timeframe. Daichi Sawamura and Sugawara Koushi leave the party prematurely at 9:20pm.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

[Report #4- Initiated by Tsukishima Kei]

Date of occurrence: March 29

Time of occurrence: 9:52pm

Location of occurrence: Living room, kitchen

[The following is not fact checked by Daichi Sawamura or Sugawara Koushi, and may contain inaccuracies. Ensure to cross check with multiple reliable sources. As reliable as you can get with a group of hammered, freshly graduated young adults, and their enabling seniors, at least. For the record, Tsukishima Kei has ceased his consumption of alcohol by this point in time. Tsukishima Kei's brother, Tsukishima Akiteru, gives him the talk when he returns home the following day, but that is not of importance. So don't worry about it. Just know that Tsukishima Kei was the second most responsible drinker of the night. Thanks.]

At approximately...9:52pm? Yes, 9:52pm, sure. At 9:52pm, y/n separates from the truth or dare circle, and proceeds towards the kitchen. They are seen filling up a red cup with coke, and nothing else. While y/n is away from the larger group, the following conversation ensues between Nishinoya Yuu, Kageyama Tobio, Tsukishima Kei, and Hinata Shoyo.

[Transcript #6- Provided by Tsukishima Kei]

Y. Nishinoya: No...I'VE GOT a GOOOOOOOOD ONE FOR HIM! ...KAGEYAMA! I...daaaaaare YOU!

K. Tsukishima: He asked for a truuuuuuuuuuth, not a...DAAAARE!

S. Hinata: GODDAMN LET HIIIIIIM FINISHHHHHH....

Y. Nishinoya: Yeaaaaaah, asshooooooole. Leeeeeet me FINISHHHHHH! [Nishinoya Yuu sniffs, and stares into the ceiling for four seconds. Not a single thought is coherent in Nishinoya Yuu's mind.]

T. Kageyama: Whaaaat am I dooooing! I'm gaaaaame enough...for ANYTHING! ANYTHIIIIIING! [Kageyama Tobio possesses a look that is a little insane, and proceeds to...beat at his chest? What the fuck? Did he actually beat at his fucking chest? (This is not Daichi Sawamura approved. Please cross check with reliable sources.)]

Y. Nishinoya: I daaaare YOU! To smack y/n's aaaaaaaass...hahah...ha.... [Nishinoya Yuu falls over to the side. He remains in slumber for the next thirty-two minutes.]

S. Hinata: Thaaaaaat...is CRAAAZY! Kaaaageyamaaaaa...are youuuuu! Gaaaaaame enoughhhhh!

[End of transcript #5]

Kageyama Tobio pushes himself off the ground at Hinata Shoyo and Nishinoya Yuu's provocations. He snickers to himself, and walks to the kitchen, where y/n is placing the two litre bottle of coke into the fridge. Kageyama Tobio proceeds to advance towards y/n, and smacks their behind, before…squeezing it? And then jiggling it in his- what the…fuck is going on? (This is not Daichi Sawamura approved, please cross check with reliable sources.) Y/n snaps around at the abrupt impact, and empties the contents of their cup onto Kageyama Tobio. It's a shame Nishinoya Yuu is too knocked out to witness what he has provoked. Sucks. The following commotion ensues between Kageyama Tobio, and y/n. Please note that parts of the conversation were inaudible from the truth or dare circle's location.

[Transcript #6- Provided by Tsukishima Kei, Yachi Hitoka, Hinata Shoyo, and Yamaguchi Tadashi]

Y/n: WHATTTTT the FUCK KAGEYAMA.

T. Kageyama: [inaudible]

Y/n: Oh...my fucking God! You are! Very drunk!

T. Kageyama: [Turns to the truth or dare circle.] TOOOLD YOU! I'M GAAAAAME ENOUGH! FOR AAAAAAAANYTHING!

Y/n: [inaudible]...NISHINOYA! [Y/n shoots a look towards the truth or dare circle. One of disdain. Contempt, even. In hindsight, the dare was much too inappropriate. Here is a reminder for everybody to apologise at the next available chance.]

T. Kageyama: Soooorry, [inaudible].

Y/n: [inaudible]...God, I should have never did it to you the first time. Not the place. Not! the place! [Y/n proceeds to grab Kageyama Tobio by the shoulders, turning him around. Kageyama Tobio is ushered into the bathroom, alongside y/n. Y/n shoots one more look at the truth or dare circle. Tsukishima Kei, as he writes this transcript, is beginning to understand Yachi Hitoka's slight fear of y/n. It's the side eye. They are definitely a little scary with the side eye.]

T. Kageyama: Ouuuuuu, the BAAAATHROOM! Thaaat's a firstttttt. [Kageyama Tobio wiggles his brows, and it's kind of creepy. Like when a guy is trying a little too hard to get laid, and is throwing every existing pickup line at you. Y/n smacks him in the side of his head, and pushes Kageyama Tobio into the bathroom. They slam the bathroom door shut and lock it. The two do not return until fifteen minutes later. It is unsure what occurred during that timeframe.]

[End of transcript #6]

When Kageyama Tobio and y/n return to the living room, it is approximately 10:12pm. Nishinoya Yuu is still asleep on the floor, and shows mild signs of...nevermind. Yachi Hitoka and Yamaguchi Tadashi have moved on to drunken karaoke. Hinata Shoyo and Tanaka Ryunosuke learn to do the Rasputin beside Nishinoya Yuu's unconscious body. Kageyama Tobio and y/n settle beside Yamaguchi Tadashi and Yachi Hitoka respectively, and pretend to be at a concert where the singers can barely remember their own lyrics and aren't sure what notes to hit. Tsukishima Kei wants to go home, but hasn't gathered a satisfactory amount of blackmail yet. Therefore, Tsukishima Kei stays the night. He passes out on the living room carpet at 12:03am.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

[Report #6- Initiated by Yamaguchi Tadashi and Hinata Shoyo]

Date of occurrence: March 30

Time of occurrence: 12:12am

Location of occurrence: Living room

Disclaimer: Any and all recounts made my Hinata Shoyo and Yamaguchi Tadashi from this point onwards may be liable to errors and inaccuracies. Since Tsukishima Kei made the disclaimer, the two believed they too were responsible for making one of their own. They admit that they were not responsible drinkers. They also admit that this will, undoubtedly, happen again.

12:12am is a time of silence. By this time, Tsukishima Kei has fallen asleep on the carpet, just beside Hinata Shoyo’s cruiser spill. He does not wake until 11:13am of March 30. Yachi Hitoka leaves the residence at approximately 11:30pm, alongside Tanaka Ryunosuke and Nishinoya Yuu, who are all picked up by Kiyoko Shimizu. Yamaguchi Tadashi and Hinata Shoyo are positioned at the kitchen counter, where they eat the graduation cake with their bare hands. At this point in time, Yamaguchi Tadashi has ceased all alcohol consumption, tapping out at two vodka redbulls, and two cream soda and vodkas in a 5:1 ratio. Hinata Shoyo, who has thrown up twice between this report and the last, has also ceased all alcohol consumption, tapping out at four vodka redbulls, one can of beer, and one vodka cruiser. Does cake work as a hangover cure? So sinful, so decadent…who gets to eat the happy graduation chocolate sign? Pay that no mind, for it is unimportant. What is of importance, is Kageyama Tobio and y/n’s current form.

Kageyama Tobio, who has tapped out after three cans of beer, two cans of Jack Daniels and coke, and an additional shot of pure vodka, stirs in his half slumber. This is no regular half slumber, but is one of intimacy, and of lovesick vulnerability, evident by his entire body splayed across y/n’s lap. At the time of this report, it is unsure whether y/n has consumed any amount of alcohol, but their sobriety is to be applauded regardless. (Please do not inform Kageyama Tobio of Hinata Shoyo’s comments on his character. Thanks.)

Y/n proceeds to bounce their leg twice, no, three times. Yes, three times is what it takes for Kageyama Tobio to stir awake. Hinata Shoyo and Yamaguchi Tadashi advance towards the couch at this moment, with the intention of smearing cake over Kageyama Tobio and y/n. However, upon entering the vicinity of the living room, the following conversation ensues between Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shoyo, and y/n. Please be reminded that Hinata Shoyo and Yamaguchi Tadashi are both drunk out of their mind, and that the conversation was one of whispers. For that reason, any and all details of the transcript are liable to errors, redaction, and/or inaccuracies. Apologies for the inconvenience.

[Transcript #7- Provided by Hinata Shoyo and Yamaguchi Tadashi]

T. Kageyama: [inaudible]…leave?

Y/n: Do you? [inaudible]…car [inaudible]

T. Kageyama: I don’t [inaudible]…ow. [Kageyama Tobio rubs at his temples. Hinata Shoyo believes he is crying, but also don’t tell Kageyama Tobio he thinks that. (This is not Daichi Sawamura approved. Please cross check with reliable sources.)]

Y/n: Alright. Upsies now, I’ll drop you off. [Y/n pushes Kageyama Tobio’s body off of their lap. Kageyama Tobio whines. Hinata Shoyo is recording this entire ordeal, but there is frosting on the camera from fumbling for his phone with cake-covered hands. It is unclear who is speaking in the video, or what is happening, really.]

T. Kageyama: Drop me…offffffff? BUT I THOOOOOUGHT- [Y/n proceeds to punch Kageyama Tobio in the side, to which he doubles over. Kageyama Tobio begins to giggle uncontrollably on the ground.]

Y/n: Yes. I'm dropping you off, Tobio. Hinata? [Y/n turns to Hinata Shoyo, who throws his phone onto the ground upon being spotted. They leave the couch, and attempt to pull Kageyama Tobio to his feet. Kageyama Tobio is still giggling, and is unable to find his grounding.]

S. Hinata: Y-yeeeeeees...? [Why are they looking at Hinata Shoyo like that? No, seriously, he's getting scared thinking about it again as he writes this transcript.]

Y/n: I think I'll head out, Kageyama needs a drop off and I'm getting tired. This was fun! Thanks for holding the party, happy grad! I'll catch you around, yeah?

S. Hinata: Of COUUUUUUUUURSE...! Youuuu're NEVER! Getting rid of USSSSS!

Y/n: Yeah, of course. See you soon, Hinata. Good luck with the cleanup. [Y/n has finally managed to pull Kageyama Tobio to his feet. They yank Kageyama Tobio by the arm, and push him out the front door.]

[End of transcript #7]

At 12:15am, Kageyama Tobio and Y/n leave Hinata Shoyo's residence. Yamaguchi Tadashi, and Tsukishima Kei do not leave until the day of March 30.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

[Report #7- Initiated by Tsukishima Kei, Hinata Shoyo, Yamaguchi Tadashi]

Date of occurrence: March 30

Time of occurrence: 11:13am

Location of occurrence: Living room

Tsukishima Kei is the first to wake from the stench of the cruiser spill by his nose. God, fuck, everything hurts. Is this what death feels like? A hangover? Also, that spill? Foul, fucking rank. It comes as no surprise that vodka, steeped into the fuzz of an unwashed carpet, would undoubtedly stink. That is beside the point. Tsukishima Kei leaves the ground at the stench, and searches for his phone. He is afraid. He promised to be home by midnight. His brother is going to kill him. Following two minutes of mindless smacking at the ground, Tsukishima Kei finally finds his device. Upon closer inspection, however, the following conversation is shown on the phone.

[Transcript #8- Provided by Y/n]

Y/n: r u dead???? -1:02am

Y/n: hurry up i wanna sleep:( -1:02am

Y/n: im not hearing water istg if ur not showering im gonna fucking drown u babe i dunked SODA all over u -1:03am

Y/n: r u hearing me -1:05am

Y/n: kageyama tobio r u hearing me because i still am not hearing water from my bathroom -1:05am

Y/n: if you don't shower ur sleeping on the ground tn -1:07am

Y/n: tobio r u done omg hurry up i wanna sleep sb -1:27am

[4 missed calls from: Y/n]

[End of transcript #8]

Upon this discovery, Tsukishima Kei wakes Hinata Shoyo and Yamaguchi Tadashi, who sleep on the couch for the night. The three ruminate on their next course of action, before the phone rings. The following conversation ensues between Tsukishima Kei, and y/n. Hinata Shoyo and Yamaguchi Tadashi choose to act as bystanders.

[Transcript #9- Provided by Tsukishima Kei]

Y/n: ...Fuck.

K. Tsukishima: So.

Y/n: He dropped it while wrestling you, didn't he.

K. Tsukishima: ...We wrestled?

[End of transcript #9]

[Case Closed]

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

bonus:

When you realise that Tobio's phone is MIA, he finally returns from your bathroom. Barely clothed, he shakes his head, and droplets of water come flying from his hair. His feet are heavy against the floor, and he isn't sure if he'll even make it to your bed at this rate, until you come darting out of your room, phone in hand.

"Tobio, where is your phone?"

"My phone?" His phone, it's in the bathroom, like it always is when he showers, right? Tobio grunts, annoyed at the extra return journey to the bathroom. He swipes at his T-shirt on the bathroom counter-right, that's where his shirt has gone. What meets his fingers is cold porcelain, and he frowns, pulling his shirt over his head.

"Not...here? Good question...where is it?"

You drag Tobio to your room, shutting the door behind you. When he spares no time to roll into your bed, blissfully unaware, you glare at him, and remind yourself that you do, in fact, love the guy. Even if he drunkenly slapped your ass in front of everybody four hours prior, forgot about your warnings and drank much too far past his limit, and has by now, probably outed your relationship to everyone at the party, despite keeping it perfectly hidden for over a year. Unfortunately, you remind yourself once again that you indeed, do love Kageyama Tobio, so this can wait. What is important now, is catching up on lost slumber, and forcing Tobio to join you.

Crawling into bed beside him, you finally melt into his arms for the first time tonight, away from the eyes of the Karasuno volleyball team. Tobio smiles, satisfied with the way that you're relaxing against him, instead of pushing him off and smacking his head. He inhales the scent of your shampoo, slips his hands beneath your shirt to hold your bare waist. This is comfortable. You are comfortable. Better than whatever he was on at that party.

"Oh well, who cares? You probably dropped it while wrestling with Tsukishima."

"...I wrestled Tsukishima?"

author's note:

I hope this is as fun to read as it was to write and i also hope it's actually good because it's so crack that there's not really any fluff until the bonus bit at the end BUT i'll come back with some proper butterfly inducing fluff and or angst soon!! love u all!!

tags!!

@chuuya-brainrot @staraxiaa @catsoupki @hiraethwa @laughingfcx @akaakeis @kuroppiii @tulip-room @wyrcan @wishi-selfships @fiannee @bailey-reeds @zzwon

ok thank u for waiting n reading love u all see u soon bye bye

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ldryunin · 6 months ago

Text

it’s fukurodani’s last game, and even though they lose, it’s a good fight, and bokuto runs to hug akaashi, runs and starts sobbing, sobbing into the crook of akaashi’s neck. “akaashi,” he sobs, “you’re the best setter i’ll ever have!”

it’s their last match together, for akaashi won’t go pro, but the memories built and bonds established together will never waver.

#haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #akaashi #akaashi keiji #bokuto #bokuto koutarou #just some old haikyuu brainrot from 2023 #kinda sad #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu movie #msby black jackals #bokuaka #in another life

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devilyn · 3 months ago

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you defined love for me | tsukishima kei

— now playing: better off without me by matt hansen

I guess love isn't what I thought We were blinded by the hope we got We were slow dancing in the dark Do you remember, remember?

— synopsis: tsukishima kei taught you what it meant to love and be loved — genre: angst, toxic tsukki, mostly feelings and thoughts not much action..... — word count: 1.2k

"Do you understand what it's like to love you?"

Tsukishima Kei was never easy to love. He fought love every step of the way, whether it be with the walls he constantly put back up after you tore them down, or with his snarky remarks insulting things you never knew you could be insecure about.

But you loved him regardless.

Admittedly, you didn't know love before you met Tsukishima. Your idea of romantic love and relationships was all built on the four years you've spent with him. It was good in some ways. You learned you were beautiful, even when you felt your ugliest. You learned that love doesn't need to be communicated through words, but could be conveyed through his actions. And love could be gentle, comfortable, quiet.

But you also learned that you'd never be good enough. You learned you were too much, too clingy, too demanding of his time and attention. Love could be harsh, gut wrenching, painful.

Love is your laughter in the morning while his arms are around your waist and he's burying his face in your chest, not wanting to let go or get up.

Love is the way he snaps at you that night for leaving crumbs on the coffee table, and the way it makes you shrink into yourself.

"You make it hard to love you, Kei."

How could you put your love for him into words? There weren't enough words in the world to properly convey the way he made you feel.

The way he'd make you smile and laugh. The way he'd make you tear up and cry when he wasn't looking.

Was it worth it falling in love with him? Was it worth him slowly chipping away at your self worth, bit by bit, until you became someone else entirely? Someone totally unrecognizable?

The dishes in the sink still weren't washed. The laundry was sitting in the dryer unfolded. The bathroom sink was cluttered with your skincare.

You had all these things you needed to do before Tsukishima came home and you could barely muster up the energy to breathe in and out while laying curled up in bed.

Your thoughts flickered between needing to get up to clean the apartment because your boyfriend might throw a fit if he came home to a mess, and wishing that same boyfriend was here to hold you and reassure you that things would be alright.

Sometimes, it felt like you loved two versions of Tsukishima Kei. One loved everything about you, and made sure to show you that every single day. The other picked at every one of your flaws until holes started to form in your heart.

You never knew which Tsukki you'd get.

The front door clicked open, and you heard shuffling as Tsukishima took off his shoes and tossed his bag to the side. You braced yourself, shoulders tense and practically pressed up to your ears as you pulled the covers over your head, as if doing so would help you hide from the love of your life.

Which Tsukki were you getting today?

You heard a quiet curse and the sound of his steps coming closer and closer to the bedroom. You've been with him for so long, you could practically hear the frustration in his gait.

Today, he was the Tsukishima that would jab at your flaws.

"Everyday is a losing battle, and it feels like I'm losing a piece of me each time."

It hit him like a freight truck. His small frustrations piled up inside of him, and cracks were forming in his stoic facade.

Each crack that formed in his tough outer shell, he'd attempt to patch up by lashing out on you. As if pouring the poison inside of him onto you would free the burden from his shoulders and cover up the holes he so desperately wanted to hide.

One quip about the dirty dishes in the sink. Another sharp remark on the laundry left in the dryer. And then a complaint about your skincare scattered across the bathroom sink.

Finally, a long drawn out lecture about how all you do is lay in bed all day when you should've been making yourself useful.

Each word he spit at you added more weight on your heart. Before he realized what he was doing to you, you had collapsed under the weight.

He stood three steps in front of you, your head buried in your hands as you sat at the foot of the bed.

"I'm tired of feeling this way," you had whispered between tears. "I'm tired of loving you."

The fractures in his shell grew larger, deeper, reaching into the crevices of his inner self. He could feel the coldness seep into his bones as you cried, each tear acting like a small hammer, tapping tapping tapping at his fragile shell.

An apology sat lodged in his throat, as it always did whenever he saw your tired eyes and forced smiles.

What an idiot. He ignored the signs on purpose. He subconsciously went out of his way to avoid looking you in the eye when he reprimanded you. He wanted to hurt you the way he was hurting, but he wasn't even brave enough to watch the damage he had done.

And so you left him.

You left him standing in that same spot, three steps in front of the foot of the bed, while you shoved whatever you could fit in a carry on. His gaze remained fixed on the ground as he listened to your quiet sniffles, the sound of the suitcase being zipped shut, and the soft click of the front door as it closed behind you.

Even as you walked out of his life, he couldn't gather the courage to watch you go--witness the damage he had done to you first hand.

Tsukishima Kei was a coward.

"Thank you for showing me what love is."

What made you fall for him in the first place? He was crass, rude, dishonest about his feelings, and never the affectionate type. He didn't deserve love.

But you gave it to him regardless. You insisted he was worthy of love. You proved it to him through the way you’d hold his head to your chest when his body and mind were too worn out to speak. You proved it to him through the little sticky notes you’d leave on the fridge to encourage him to have a good day. You proved it to him when you’d press a kiss to his forehead before you left for work in the morning even while he laid half asleep in bed.

Sitting on the couch, he could almost imagine you there next to him, your knee barely touching his own under the throw blanket. He’d turn his head to try and catch your gaze, and you’d look over at him with a smile.

He shifted over to lean closer to you, and the smile on your face morphed into the teary, tired one you wore as you left him. He remembered that he was the one who tossed your love aside, and the illusion of you faded before his eyes, leaving him alone with his regrets.

He taught you that love was fickle and conditional.

“I’m glad I loved you, Kei.”

Fell so deep we couldn't see Maybe we were never meant to be One day I'll just be a memory and you'll be better Better off without me

#haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu scenarios #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima angst #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima kei imagine #tsukishima kei scenarios #tsukishima kei angst #haikyuu angst #haikyuu imagines #tsukishima kei x you #haikyuu x you

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kyuuppi · 1 year ago

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help, my boyfriend has no sex drive! (5)

Pairing: Kenma x reader (f)

Contents: smut; established relationship; feminization, "femboy", heavy praise kink (Kenma); rough sex; creampie; Christmas themes

Words: 3.4k

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

“But as long as you’d love me so—

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snoooow”

Kenma tries not to visibly cringe at the cheery music as he emerges from his office, finally finished with his obligatory three-hour “Christmas special” stream.

As you had been for the past month, you’re softly singing along to some Christmas carol playing from your shitty laptop speaker. You had busied yourself with reorganizing the presents under the full-sized tree—something you had insisted on buying for the apartment.

Kenma had little more interest in most holidays than the “free day from school” perks. But as he watches you scurry around your shared living room wearing candy cane-themed stockings, an oversized ugly Christmas sweater, and a hundred-yen-store Santa hat, Kenma is thankful you had expressed your desire to celebrate with him. He will gladly participate in anything that makes you this innocently cheerful.

Your background music is abruptly cut short and you frown when you realize your laptop has just died again. But the disappointment is cut short when you notice Kenma, standing awkwardly by the couch in the dark Christmas sweater you had insisted he wear for his stream.

“KenKen—your stream is over?”

Kenma smiles softly at how eager you look, eyes practically sparkling.

“Yeah, I’m free now. You wanted to open presents, right?”

You nod quickly, guiding him to the couch and leaving only to retrieve a cup of hot cocoa—extra whipped cream—and a slice of homemade apple pie, placing them both in front of him on the coffee table. He thanks you quietly, predictably digging into the apple pie first.

“So I think we should start with your family’s gifts first,” you begin, already passing him a small stack of presents, all wrapped in identical green and red paper.

After nearly half an hour you two had finally worked your way through nearly all of the presents. Most were the typical things–an abhorrent amount of socks and pajamas from your families, Kenma’s mother gifting both of you very cringey matching couple sets with any video game character she saw. You had to try very hard not to laugh at Kenma’s face when you opened a matching Kirby and Jigglypuff sweater set with a handwritten heart note.

“Aww, don’t pout KenKen, your mom was just being thoughtful.” “They’re not even in the same series.”

A few gifts had been surprising–namely Kuroo’s cat ear headphones—to which Kenma promptly sent a text telling Kuroo to never buy him Christmas gift ever again— and even a signed pro jersey from Hinata. Even if he didn’t voice it, you noticed how touched Kenma seemed by the gesture and you made a mental note to buy something to display it in the apartment. A few gifts were even from Kenma’s fans, sending various game merchandise, snacks from their country, and even fan art of the two of you.

Finally, the last remaining gifts were the ones you made for each other. You didn’t want to pressure Kenma to buy you anything fancy–and you also couldn’t afford to reciprocate with anything fancy, so you set a strict budget.

Kenma was unexpectedly good at keeping secrets so you weren’t sure what he had gotten you–probably a game he wanted you to play together but the box was unexpectedly big—

Regardless, you knew what you got him , and it was something you had been thinking about for months. Needless to say, you were eager for him to open it.

“Who should go firs—”

“I’ll go!”

Kenma raises a brow but complies as you all but shove your gift into his hands. The outside is unassuming—a flat package wrapped in red paper with a holographic silver stick-on bow in the center. Somehow, he feels vaguely uneasy.

Cautiously, Kenma begins unwrapping the gift. You practically vibrate with excitement in your seat, eagerly watching as his thin fingers peel away the final layers of colorful paper.

Finally, your present reveals itself, soft nylon fabric in a bright red shade. Kenma seems confused, unsure of what exactly he is looking at until he shifts and the fabric unravels into two long strips.

“Ta-daa,” you cheer, “your very own pair of thigh-high stockings!”

Kenma looks horrified.

“This is a joke,” Kenma states, sounding like he’s trying to convince himself just as much as you.

“What do you mean? Don’t you like them? Look, they’re even Christmas-themed!”

You guide his hands over to the top of the socks where a large red ribbon sits. Two short red strings dangle the ribbon with a small, fuzzy white ball at the end each. You make him squeeze the soft ball for good measure. His expression doesn’t change.

“Why would you buy me these? You wasted actual, real-life money for this,” Kenma bemoans.

“Didn’t your fans suggest something like this before? I think they called them programmer socks—”

“ Oh my god please stop talking.”

Kenma lets out a long, suffering groan as you eye him with an absolute shit-eating grin.

It’s fine, he thinks. You wanted to be a little shit like Kuroo but it was just a prank. He could probably Venmo back the money you wasted on this and never have to think of this situation ever again. He’ll toss them in the back of the closet next to those cat ear headphones Kuroo bought him.

He is proven wrong when you nudge his shin with your own stocking-clad toes and give him an expectant look.

“Well?”

“What?”

“Aren’t you going to try them on?”

Kenma’s brain very obviously fries and you have to resist the urge to laugh at his expression.

“C’mon, I spent actual, real-life money on these," you tease, throwing his words back at him, "I wanna see you wear them at least once!”

“You have to be joking,” he all but whines.

Your excited expression tells him you are very much not joking. Kenma considers refusing more firmly. He knows you genuinely care about him and would never push him to do something he was uncomfortable with—or at least so long as it wouldn’t actually kill him.

But your eyes are wide and practically sparkling as you look at him expectantly with that cute little grin–the crippling humiliation that will likely haunt him every night for the rest of his life is nothing compared to your happiness. Kenma sighs deeply and you know you’ve won.

He ignores your excited squeals as he stands up and shuffles towards the bathroom in something akin to a walk of shame.

As Kenma stares at his own lithe form in the mirror he’s positive that he has never felt so mortified in his whole life. Not when he accidentally set a ball into Lev’s face during a match in high school. Not when he missed his ult in a team fight and cost his team the ranked match in League. Not even when he came so hard he nearly passed out while getting his dick sucked during a live stream.

Kenma can barely even recognize himself in the mirror, eyes flitting from his familiar golden gaze down to his oversized black and white Nightmare Before Christmas sweater and, finally, to his thin legs wrapped in an inappropriately bright red pair of thigh-high socks.

Somehow, the stockings feel even more exposing than if he were just naked. He feels like some cheap, poorly drawn femboy character in a hentai. One of his first thoughts was they don’t look nearly as appealing on him as they do on you. His legs are too lanky–straight and lean from years of volleyball but missing the curve of healthy fat yours have. His face heats up as he visualizes your thighs currently clad in your own pair of red and white striped stockings.

“KenKen are you ready yet? You’re taking foreeeeever!”

His heart rate picks up and he tries to remind himself it's just you, the person who makes him feel safest. He’s going to go out there, you’re going to see how cringe he looks, then you'll both laugh and never talk about this again.

He takes a deep breath and opens the door, immediately meeting your gaze as you sit on the couch where he left you. Breath bated, he watches as your eyes dart down his body, darting around his lower half with your mouth agape. He tries his best not to squirm under your stare.

“Fuck, Ken,” you chuckle breathily, “you look amazing.”

Kenma’s breath hitches, certainly not expecting that type of response. As you continue to take him in he realizes your gaze looks almost hungry, like you’re ready to devour him–shit, are you seriously into this?

He finds his answer in the way you motion him over, helpless in how his body obeys before he can even process the silent request. You reach out hesitantly, fingertips so close to his thighs he can feel your body heat even through the thin fabric. You glance up at him, asking permission, and he’s nodding immediately, desperate for your touch.

Your fingers land near his left knee, trailing up slowly and making his whole body tremble lightly. When your fingertips catch on the hem of the stockings he nearly gasps and then you're brushing his soft skin directly, only stopping when you reach the edge of the sweater that’s just barely covering his rapidly hardening cock.

“You’re so pretty,” you praise, "my pretty boy."

Kenma makes a choked sound, surprised and mildly offended but also awfully turned on to hear any form of praise from your lips. No, he wants to argue, you’re the pretty one –but you look up at him, so pleased, that he can’t remember how to speak.

“And now we match,” you sing, tone innocent as you raise your leg between his own. His eyes follow, nearly hypnotized by the contrast between your red-and-white stockings against his red ones before your clothed shin brushes against his crotch in a way that is anything but innocent. He has to grab the back of the couch near your head to keep his knees from buckling as he groans.

You seem to take some form of pity on him because you let up on his crotch with a giggle, making room for him to sit down beside you and catch his breath. Even when you let him rest your attention never strays from the item of clothing, hand idly stroking his thigh while you continue to drink in the sight of his pale skin contrasting with the scarlet cloth.

“Do you really like it that much,” he asks, almost hesitant.

He’s surprised at how sheepish you become, moving your hand away as your face slightly flushes.

“Um–yeah. I know it’s kinda weird, sorry, you just look really pretty sometimes.”

Kenma frowns slightly and takes your hand back, returning it to his thigh with his own on top of yours. The action was meant to reassure you but it felt too bold and he avoids eye contact as he speaks.

“You don’t have to apologize, I don’t hate it…”

He sees the way you perk up, practically beaming, from the corner of his eye and is quick to clarify less you try to buy him a pair of panties or something next year.

“It’s not my thing—I prefer seeing you in cute clothes…but I can try things like this if it makes you this happy.”

“Aww, KenKen, that’s so sweet!”

Kenma huffs, breath nearly knocked out of him when you launch yourself into his chest, planting noisy kisses all over his face. He tries his best to scowl but he’s pretty sure he’s failing by the way you giggle at his expression. Your Santa hat gets knocked off in the commotion but neither of you care. Kenma even takes the opportunity to bury his fingers in your messy hair as your kisses finally focus on his lips.

Eventually, the kisses deepen, morphing from quick pecks to slow and open-mouthed. Your tongue invades his mouth, gravity giving you a clear advantage as you take charge of this kiss. But not one to easily accept defeat, Kenma takes the opportunity to grab a handful of your ass in a way that has you gasping in surprise. You start to grind on him, both of you letting out soft sounds between kisses.

It’s you who pulls away first, making Kenma softly whine in protest, gaze hazy as he blinks up at you in question.

“Wanna ride you,” you explain simply.

Kenma hisses out his approval and obediently waits as you pull down your lounge shorts. You yank them down your legs and fling them across the living room with a little too much force, accidentally hitting the Christmas tree. You laugh at the sight of your fuzzy white shorts hanging on the tree like some soft of kinky Christmas ornament but Kenma is quick to redirect your attention by pulling you back down for another kiss.

He grips your ass again, this time bare, and moves his fingers to prepare you for his dick but—

He abruptly stops and pulls away from the kiss in shock.

“You’re already this wet?” His expression looks genuinely surprised and you can’t help but giggle.

“I told you, you look really pretty.”

Kenma groans, not sure if he’s annoyed or turned on but his cock throbs all the same. You pull up the bottom half of his sweater to reach his black boxers. He’s so hard that it's almost difficult to get them off but he helps you pull them down just enough to free his leaking cock. It takes a moment to properly position yourself from this new angle, hindered by your bulky sweater and the headrest of the couch digging into your side but you manage to guide his leaky head to your drenched hole and ease down.

You both groan as he breaches your cunt, your wetness making the slide smooth even as you reach his thick base.

“F-fuck, Ken, you always feel so good,” you moan.

The praise feels like a punch to the gut and he’s thankful he’s already lying down so he can’t embarrass himself further by losing his balance. He’s coming to realize even if feminization isn’t his thing, praise might be. He thinks he'd do just about anything if it pleased you—if it made you look down at him with those shiny eyes and call him your good boy—fuck. Kenma has to force himself back to reality before he makes himself cum too quickly just by his own fantasies.

You readjust your weight, leaning back and using his bent knees as leverage. Your fingers dig into the fabric of his stockings as you begin to move, raising to his tip before dropping your whole weight down. It feels good—mind-numbingly so—but he finds it looks even better. The angle you put yourself into gives him an unobstructed view of your face–eyes pinched closed and reddened lips open in pleasure, your breasts–soft and bouncing with every movement–and, best of all, your tight hole sucking him in with every uptake.

He can’t tear his eyes away from where the two of you are connected. A creamy white ring is quickly forming at the base of his cock from how soaked you are, thin strings sticking to your pussy like webs. Framing it all are your thick thighs, muscles straining with your movements and squeezed by those god damned red-and-white striped thigh highs.

Fuck, he wishes he could record this.

He has apparently said that aloud on accident because now you’re grinning down at him conspiratorially.

“Y-yeah?” you stutter out, “you wanna make a movie with me?”

Kenma doesn’t verbally answer but he doesn’t need to. Instead, he’s gripping your hips and guiding your pace, making you bounce on his cock faster while his own hips start to meet your thrusts.

It has only been a few minutes but it's becoming clear your stamina is far from athletic. Your thighs burn and your pace stumbles but Kenma is quick to take advantage of the situation, using a strength you didn’t know he was capable of to roll you over and push you face down.

“Kenma, wh—oh!”

Any dissent you had intended to make is abruptly cut off when your boyfriend, one knee digging into the couch for leverage, feeds his length back into your greedy hole and sets a pace that has you nearly screaming. His hips snap into you, hard, and you scramble to find something to hold on to. One hand finds the armrest of the couch near your head, nails nearly tearing into the fabric, while the other ends up behind you, digging into his thigh as he rams his hips into you. You’re drooling as you manage to stutter out a barely coherent statement through your moans.

“K-Ken, so h-hard, fuck—”

“Yeah,” He replies, sounding breathless but not nearly as wrecked as you. You curse his retired high school athlete stamina.

“Am I still your pretty boy?”

The question momentarily shocks you. You aren’t sure what response he’s looking for but you answer honestly, too fucked out to ponder on it.

“Y-yesyesyes, the prettiest! ”

“You like getting fucked by your pretty boy?”

“Yeeeess, I l-love it—oh god—”

One hand reaches up to grip your hair, tugging your hair in a way you aren’t sure is punishment or a reward. You cry out all the same, cunt squeezing him for dear life as he hits something deep deep deep inside of you. You’re fairly certain you’ve never been fucked this hard in your life. The sweet, no-sex-drive-having boyfriend trope becomes little more than a pipe dream as his hips smack into your ass without reprieve.

“‘m g-gonna cum,” you warn.

Kenma’s grip on your hip tightens and he adjusts his angle to hit the spot he knows makes your toes curl and your pitch turns airy. The nail in the coffin comes when he releases your hair, but only to start rubbing your clit, remembering your favorite rhythm from the time he watched you masturbate.

Expectedly, you cum, toes curling and squeals reaching a pitch you think might cause your boyfriend hearing damage. Your whole body seizes with your orgasm, cunt spasming and thighs squeezing shit as you please for him to stop, go harder–you aren’t sure.

Kenma forces you to ride through it, fucking you even as your hips stutter violently and never letting up on your pulsating nub. It's only when you're nearing tears from the overstimulation that Kenma stops, moaning sweetly as his own orgasm overtakes him. He collapses against you in exhaustion as warmth fills you from deep inside, making a mess on your thighs as it gushes out between you.

“Mm, y’r heavyyy,” you complain sleepily.

Kenma grunts something in response but doesn’t bother moving. In fact, he seems to make himself more comfortable by moving his hands to find your own. He slips his long fingers in the spaces between your own, locking your hands together. Your heart swells at the action, constantly reminded how much this boy loves you even when he doesn't vocalize it very often.

You allow him a few more moments of peace, listening to his harsh pants die down into something more calm before you speak again.

“By the way, what was my present?”

Kenma stiffens against you, having completely forgotten about Christmas altogether. Quickly, he pulls away from you and the loss of warmth almost makes you regret saying anything. On shaky legs, Kenma shuffles over to the forgotten box, wrapped in royal blue paper and topped with a pretty gold ribbon. He comes back to the couch, gingerly helping you sit up before placing the box on your lap.

You’re immediately surprised by the hefty weight of the box and grow curious as you tear at the paper. Within seconds, the logo and picture on the box become clear, making you gasp in shock.

“Kenmaaaa,” you whine, trying not to tear up as you pout at him.

To his credit, Kenma looks honestly guilty as he avoids your eyes.

“We set a twenty-thousand-yen spending limit, ” you remind him.

“I know but—this is basically a necessity. Your old one was going to die any day now,” Kenma reasons, helping you pull out the shiny new laptop –in rose gold no less.

“And it's a gaming laptop–that means you can play with me more so it’s basically a gift for me more than you,” he continues.

You know he’s absolutely pulling excuses out of his ass but you can’t help the rush of affection at how much Kenma wants to spoil you. He always buys you the things you want, even when you insist on not wanting to take advantage of him as a wealthy streamer and businessman. He usually comes up with some excuse, I was going to buy one anyway so we can share or I have too much money this month, taxes will be a hassle if I don’t spend it.

But he is right–your old laptop was on its last leg and every time you opened a Word document for school you had to pray it wouldn’t crash before you could save your draft.

You softly smile as you trace the box with a finger, elated that he even remembered which color you wanted. He grins at how pleased you clearly are, even if you won’t say it.

“Besides,” his grin suddenly turns sly as he places a hand on the swell of your hip, “I heard the webcam is really great for recording movies.”

#kenma #kozume kenma #kenma x reader #kenma x you #kenma x y/n #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #kenma smut #kenma imagine #kenma scenario #kenma fic #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu smut #haikyuu fic #hq smut #hq x reader #smut #fic:hmbfhnsd

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natriae · 2 years ago

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minors dni

Thinking about Kiyoomi's voice rn. Feeling the rumble in his chest when he holds you. It's just so deep and sexy without him even trying. And him being the little shit he is likes to mess with you over it constantly. It all started the first time he ever dirty talked to you. Balls deep you were already close to your high when Kiyoomi whispered in your ear, "such a good little slut for my big cock, huh,". Of course you orgasmed right there, and since then Kiyoomi knew just how much his voice effected you. So no matter where you are Kiyoomi makes it his mission to leave you soaking. Always whispering in your ear sentences that could every well have double meanings.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fluff #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa smut #haikyuu smut #haikyū!!#haikyu smut #haikyuu scenario #mmm he so sexy #kiyoomi fluff #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #kiyoomi x reader #kiyoomi sakusa

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vampkaashis-wife · 2 years ago

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Osamu’s latest fidgety habit is twisting his wedding band around his finger - an expensive piece of jewelry he bought for himself alongside a matching piece for you. He still can’t believe it. The simple band of metal is a testament to a life he spent years building. While he would never call it perfect, he’s fairly certain that he would do it the same if he ever had the chance.

Even with the Olympics several years behind him, he sometimes thinks about what it would be like, playing on the global stage with Atsumu. He thinks about what it would be like if he had joined MSBY too, or if he’d joined the Adlers. He wonders if he’d choose to play with Sunarin or Aran instead.

Today, though, he’s thinking about a different possibility.

The possibility of you saying no to his marriage proposal and walking away entirely.

It was a very near thing, he remembers. He remembers staring at the wall, day after day, the reflections of the ring scattered along the walls. Disappearing when he closed the box again.

“Babe?” he calls into the kitchen where you’re doing dishes. The TV is on in the living room, and you glance up every now and then to keep up with the plot, yelling What happened? every time a commotion occurs and you missed it. He never knows why you do this. He said he could wait until all chores were done to start the movie, but you insist.

“What? Did I miss something?” you call, both soapy hands busy with a pot. Your sleeves are slipping down your arms again, and Osamu pauses the movie. “Samu, no! Don’t pause it.”

He laughs. “Your sleeves,” he says simply, coming up behind you to pull them back up your arms. The motion is punctuated with a kiss to your cheek. “Are you happy?”

“You know I hate doing dishes.”

“And yet, you do them anyway.”

“Would you rather I create a beacon for the roaches? That’s unsanitary. I need to call whoever does the inspections at the shop; clearly, we’re all missing something here.”

The shop. You say it so simply, as if Onigiri Miya isn’t one of the biggest parts of your lives now and for the last few years. “You’re the roach,” he says. “Can’t get rid of you if I tried.”

“Don’t lie, Samu. You wouldn’t ever try to get rid of me, therefore, I cannot possibly be a roach.” After a pause, you add, “And Akaashi-san likes me, so I also can’t be a roach. He hates those. Now get off me, you’re in the way.”

He knows you’ve missed the question, but he’s sure he knows the answer all the same. A year ago, you shared a kitchen in tense silence, a fundamental unhappiness permeating the air. A year ago, you tried to throw all this away - through no fault of your own. It had been an awful time for you both as you transitioned out of student life and into the next thing, and yet��

“Babe?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

In quick motions, you put up the final bowl you washed, rinsing around the sink before dangling your wet hands in it to keep the floor dry. You twist a little to look at the man next to you. “I know. I love you too.”

Before he can say anything even more pathetic and lovestruck, your phone rings. Shaking your hands off, you locate your phone. Samu watches you frown before drying your hands and picking it up. He knows who it is before you even say it. “Hey, Dad.”

There it is, another one of the winds you always summon. They’re less of a hurricane than they used to be, though. More of a strong beach wind. He finishes cleaning up the kitchen while you’re on the phone, although there’s not much left to clean.

He’s proud of you, he thinks. Proud of himself, too, but mostly of you. The first year of marriage isn’t easy, but after planning and executing such a large scale event with and emotionally drained you and your tense family, he thinks you’ll be alright. You smile more now, he realizes. You have more to say about, well, everything.

Then his phone rings. Atsumu. “What do you want?” he calmly asks his phone.

Atsumu immediately starts chattering into his phone. It’s hard to hear him over the crowd in the background. “Oi! Pick me up.”

“Where? Why?”

“Afterparty after we beat EJP. Sunarin forgot about me and went home first.”

“Shitty of him.”

“Yeah, well. He’s a shithead.”

“Couldn’t you ask someone else?”

“Samu!” he whines in a truly atrocious voice. Osamu pinches the bridge of his nose as his twin keeps talking. “You hate me!”

“I don’t hate you.” Osamu sighs. “I’m not anywhere near Osaka, idiot. I wouldn’t be able to make it there for a few hours. I don’t want you to wait that long, not if you’re drunk enough to be calling for a ride home.”

A pause.

“Oh yeah. I meant to call Omi. I’m not drunk, by the way.”

“How do you make that mistake and not notice? You literally said my name.”

“I never claimed to be smart.”

“No one would believe you if you did.”

Another pause.

“Fuck you!”

“That’s the best thing you could come up with?” Osamu knows his brother can hear the raised eyebrows, even at this distance. “Call literally anyone else; I’m off duty.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means that after dinner is Wife Time, and you’ve lost priority.”

“Piece of shit,” Atsumu mutters. Soon after though, he says in a voice too soft to be anything but loving, “Samu? I’m proud of you. You’re not making it easy for me to be the happier of us.”

For a moment, Osamu feels tears prickling behind his eyes. He blinks them away, instead watching you scribble something down, phone pressed between your shoulder and ear. Such a simple thing, but everything he’s ever wanted. “Thanks, Atsumu.”

#miya osamu x reader #miya osamu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #miya osamu scenario #haikyuu scenario #sequel to a thing i wrote almost a year ago #iykyk

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selarina · 1 year ago

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Out of Style

-> Suna Rintaro x Fem!Reader

Chapter 1: The Night of the Party

Summary: At a band's afterparty, the protagonist's protective instincts kick in when their younger sister encounters Suna Rintaro, the band's guitarist.

Content Warnings: celebrity au, rockstar!suna rintaro, actress!reader, reader has a sister, afterparty scene, alcohol, implied/referenced drug use, fluff, tension, eventual smut

Word Count: 2.9k words

Author's Note: Yes, the title is from Taylor Swift's 1989. Anyway, @renardiererin asked and I had to deliver <3

Series Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Moodboard

Your eyes take in the scene, a bunch of people sprawled on the couch, empty bottles of alcohol lined up on a pool table, and said pool table is adjoined to a torn net. You see a couple on the verge of getting to places you didn’t necessarily want to witness alongside your sister so you decide that going upstairs might be more than ideal, especially for your sister. You might even meet a bunch of people on the balcony above where you can find sober people to talk to.

Your sister is due to go college in a few months and this scene isn't exactly one she is familiar with. You decide that this scene is alarmingly akin to a college party, except you’re all wearing fancier branded clothing this time.

You look up towards the stairs leading into a calmer environment and upon getting a closer look, you smile. You can't help but notice the high chandelier that looks rather misplaced in the center of this scene, but again so does most of the modern decor clashing oddly against the inherent gothic features of the house.

The two of you find yourselves a drink first. You settle for orange juice, since you’re tired enough today as is. Plus, you’re with your sister this time. She doesn’t usually accompany you to these parties, and honestly, you don’t either, not if you don’t already know a person or two who are sure to be attending. That way you can piggyback off them, using them as a social lubricant.

“I’ll be back,” you tell your sister since you want to pee, and you swivel through the crowd. A few of them recognize you, and you have to stop to greet them. You keep it briefly because you still really want to pee.

While you're washing your hands, you hear a distant sound of commotion. You can't tell what’s happening, but you decide it's better to hurry up than leave your sister to witness whatever may be taking place, all alone.

You're not usually this on edge or this protective, even if your sister suggests otherwise. But, you only brought her here to attend some band's album launch afterparty because she begged and begged and begged, and so you relented like you always do. And it's her birthday, you think. Who would you be if you didn't make your sister happy on her birthday?

You sigh, discarding the tissue as you walk outside.

The people have gotten relatively quieter since the two of you walked in. The crowd seems to be more populated towards the secluded area from earlier that seemed to have a bunch of trophies of some sort on a shelf.

You cinch your brows, not wanting to stay down any longer as you start searching for your sister.

"I'm so sorry!" You hear, and you immediately swivel your head towards your sister's voice, heavily concerned about it coming from the center of the crowd.

It takes you all of 5 seconds to move through the bodies before you take in the scene.

She's holding her cup, and a man, who upon a second look seems to be the guitarist from the band, staring down at his shirt. His wet shirt.

You hold your breath, and you talk yourself up in all of the two seconds you have — that you will defend her, that you will fight off the urge to quiver before this man, whoever and however powerful of a connection he might be, that you can go home and have your sister's cake and sleep in your comfy bed if you feel like crying. It's okay.

But all of it crumbles to the ground, the moment he looks up, and he smiles like he's forcing himself to, a clear distaste for the way the wet t-shirt sits on him is visible on his face, the way it frowns ever so slightly. The way his eyes blink a bit too quickly for it to be natural.

"It's alright, don't worry about it," he says, saving his hand off as a gesture for everyone to leave.

"It's not okay, that costs a lot." A lady who was standing right behind him walks in between your sister and him.

It urges you to stand by your sister's side, who upon your arrival, immediately reaches for your hand, almost out of instinct she squeezes.

She's scared, so you're not, you decide.

"We'll pay you back," you speak up, firm but neutral. You won't back down and defend her but there's no need for you to be hostile yet.

"You won't be able to afford this sweetie," she turns her attention to you, her eyes moving up and down your body, in a way that's supposed to demean you but you feel anything but demeaned. Just a bit amused, really.

"Oh! Then I'm sure you guys can manage to pay for this yourself. Apologies for having the drink on you in the first place but we'll be leaving now," you say, and you can admit that the smile on your face is meant to be anything but sweet, cordial at best.

"And if you change your mind, feel free to let my manager know," you say.

Your assistant, you were not aware she was in this crowd really, but she immediately finds herself beside you.

"Of course, here's my card," she reaches her hand out to the lady, who snivels it away from her hand. You look at your assistant and can't help but be caught off-guard by how unlike herself she looks, her hair is down and strewn about, and her clothes are different, more colorful. You smile, you suppose she's more her now than she will ever be around you.

You can understand her frustration really, you would be a bit put off if the clothes you are wearing were something you had to pay for. You only mean that you would never actively wear what you are wearing today, but in all honesty, anyone here can pay for that t-shirt without even breaking a single sweat.

"Oh, you will be hearing from m—" the lady starts, but is stopped when the man puts his hand on her shoulder and puts himself in front of her.

"There's no need. This is my house, I can literally change upstairs." He says he's not smiling but you feel a sense of kindness from him, even if he's modeled to look like the antithesis of it. Or perhaps, you’re just judgemental. "Guys, go back to drinking, or… fucking apparently," he eyes the couple who's part of the crowd, seemingly to view what's happening, but also entirely too invested in each other mouths for that to be true.

And at that, the crowd dissipates. You're about to leave too, before you feel the urge to thank him.

You turn to him, "Thanks," you muster up.

"Thank you so much, and once again, I'm so sorry. I didn't know it was expensive," your sister says, sincerely.

"Don't worry about it. Was my fault anyway," he says as he quirks his lips up in what could only classify as a half-smile but you feel that it, whatever it is, is genuine before your eyes flit up to his face. in all fairness, he — he's really beautiful.

He's got good bone structure, you conclude.

You smile, and he looks at you this time.

"Hi, I'm Suna Rintaro,” he says. “I like your movies," he says, and you smile a bit too visibly harder at that. He almost sounds a bit too much like a sincere fan, but all people in this industry are actors, off and on screen, so you gauge this out as you usually do.

"What's your favorite one?" you say, and he frowns. You knew it. A cocksure smile can’t help but sit on your face.

"The one where you kill a group of men," he says.

Your eyes widen, "Hm, that doesn't narrow things down." You laugh, "But wow, you sound like a decent fan. Want my autograph?"

"Maybe just your phone number for today?" He's quick, and you realize it's only been a short exchange but he's standing really, really close to you. His eyes are narrowed down at you, so intently, and it makes you want to look away, but you peer back at him, focusing on the yellow in his eyes as you talk yourself into not looking away. There’s a soft tinge of gray in his eyes, and you think you can only see that because you’re so close to him. You can’t help but think he resembles a predator, strikingly similar to a cat. A pretty one, regardless.

"Maybe… I'll give you my Instagram for today," you say.

"I could live with that.” A compromise and a soft smirk on his face.

"Also…" your sister's voice comes from behind you, and it comes off soft and meek. You feel embarrassed, you forgot she was there for a moment. You look at her and she looks back at you, as though she's asking for something. Your eyes widen, and it strikes you.

"Oh! Yes. Um — In the interest of being transparent, I'm here for her really," you pull her from behind you so she's standing right next to you.

"And I think she'd really appreciate a picture with you. Only if that’s okay with you?" You don't want to push it, even as much as you love your sister. There are days when taking a picture with a fan makes you want to pull your hair out and run naked across the city's most paparazzi-invested zones.

"I don't mind. If you wait for a few minutes, I can get the rest of the band actually," your eyes flit to your sister's face, and it's gleaming so bright, you’re afraid they’re going to pop right out of her head.

You smile. "That would be great," you say before he takes off, his hands fiddling with his top.

You bring your hand in front of your sister's face, giggling, "Hello, I'd like my sister back. Could you please un-possess her for a quick minute?"

"This… is going to be the best birthday ever," she says. "I can't wait to tell Allie about this," she quickly pulls out her phone.

"Am I the best sister in the world or what?" you sigh, feigning tiredness, feeling anything but when your sister’s this excited.

"Yeah," she says, a hint of realness, although you presume she's more preoccupied with processing what just happened. "Thank you for today," she says, her hands coming to engulf you in a tight hug.

You pat her head, "Aw, you love me so much," and at that she backs away, scowling.

"Ruined the moment," she deadpans, sticking her tongue out, and right before you know it she's standing with the band.

Suna's wearing a different top this time and Atsumu brings his hand up, to hold her shoulder, and you think your sister looks constipated almost. So still.

You take a few pictures for her before you pocket your phone, walking over. "Thank you for this," you say. "I forgot to introduce myself, I'm—"

"The very pretty actress who kills men," Atsumu Miya swoops himself in front of you, and his hand is already taking yours to leave a kiss on it. Odd, you think. You didn't realise that was your reputation, despite all the recent influx of love interest roles.

"Charmed," he says, making sure to embellish it with a cocksure smirk.

You smile, a bit less genuinely than you have all evening. "Nice to meet you, Atsumu."

"Ouch, sweetheart," Suna walks towards the two of you, his hand coming up to his chest to feign hurt. "You know his name and not mine?"

"Well, h-he's more — reputed? I've heard about you before is all."

You look towards Atsumu. The onslaught of people in his dating history, the drug cases (even if it's just weed), and the obnoxious energy he radiates are enough for him to make some headlines that even you could catch.

"Only good things I hope," he says with a smile.

Definitely not, you want to respond but instead, you just smile back at him.

"We should get going," you say and that's all it takes for the band to disperse, you're sure they were told to form connections today as much as they could, even if they are a pretty popular band. Events like this are meant for that.

"Of course, I'll drop you out," Suna adds.

—

"It was nice having you," he says. His eyes leave your face to see your sister, "And you especially, ma'am."

Your sister smiles, a bit shy this time, "Thank you," she says.

His eyes find yours, and you look away. "Nice interior," you say, not knowing what else to say. You turn back to him again.

His eyes narrow and his head tilts in confusion, “Oh, most of the stuff in there is not really mine. Just recently bought the house," he says. "With the decor and stuff," he adds like he's aware that your odd comment was a consequence of odd interior choices.

"That explains a lot," you say. You feel odd, you didn't really know him before today either but you thought your observations could fill in the gaps to make up a person, but maybe not all the time.

The three of you wait in silence, a soft wind blows and it's enough to send a chill up your spine.

"Cold?" he asks, and you think he's talking to you. You’re ready to answer no because you know how this goes, he asks for the hoodie, you meet him again and really, you didn’t want to fall for the oldest trick in the book. But when you turn to look at him, you see that he's asking your sister. And at that, you smile.

She loops her hand through his jacket, her hands engulfed by his long sleeves. She thanks him, and he merely brushes it off, his eyes focused on the waterfall adjacent to where you stand.

His eyes looking at yours after a few moments, "I can get another jacket from upstairs if you can wait," he says.

"Nah, the car should be here soon. I'll manage," you say, and talk of the devil, and the devil arrives. Your car swoops through in front of the three of you, and before your driver could even rush out to open the door, Suna steps in. He opens the door, and your sister ducks into the car almost immediately. Maybe she felt colder than you thought.

"Thank you again," you say. "And congratulations on the album."

As the car door closes, Suna gives you a nod and a small smile.

He closes the door, but you press down to open the window. "It was nice meeting you both. Have a safe ride home," he says.

Your car revved before it takes off.

"He's not my favourite from the band, but he's so cool! I want his eyes," she gushes, almost morbidly. Your eyes widen before you break into laughter as you send her the pictures you took of them together.

"I can't wait to post this on my Instagram! You should have taken one too.” She frowns.

Back at home, you take a hot shower, carding through your hair, as you gently massage your scalp. The sole of your feet hurt as you stand, and you think maybe you would have chosen a different pair of heels for tonight. Not that you really had that much of a choice.

You walk to the kitchen, turning the dim yellow light on. You preferred having dimmer lights on in the evening or night, everything else was too bright, and it leaves you unmoving on the couch, as you fall into slumber.

You pull out two plates and two spoons.

Walking over to the fridge, you bring out the small pink box that sits on the top shelf, carefully pulling out the box so that the accompanying items don't fall out of the shelf.

You place it on the kitchen counter before you go to your sister's room.

Your sister's face front on her pillow, and she seems asleep.

You call out to her.

Nothing.

You turn the lights off after tucking her in.

Walking to the kitchen, you put on some cake, and walk to the living room.

Your hands, almost of their own volition, pull out Suna Rintaro's Instagram. It seems to be handled by him rather than his management by the looks of it. It's not as curated as yours.

Just as you're going through his photos, one that's entirely curated to be enticing, his hands on an untagged woman as your eyes flicker down to the caption.

Promotional photos for a music video.

Something urges you to watch the music video, it's a fairly common music video but leaning more on the provocative side, everyone's half-naked, and comfortable in their own skin.

But your eyes draw towards Suna and the untagged woman from earlier, as she tugs at the chain around his neck as he's looking up at her with something so fabricated, yet so primal and fascinating, to say the very least. Something in you twinges just a bit.

It's been less than a second since you're reeling but you hear the Ping!

suna_rintaro: it was veil of vendetta btw suna_rintaro: the movie of yours i liked suna_rintaro: rewatched it last night

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sweetlyvibe · 1 month ago

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NIGHTMARE

Rintarou’s eyes shot open, his chest heaving as the nightmare’s grip refused to let go. His heart pounded so hard, it echoed in his ears, the weight of the dark room pressing down on him. The silence made it worse, suffocating, and his hand instinctively reached out to your side of the bed—but his fingers only met cold sheets. You weren’t there.

His breath hitched, panic flooding him. You’d left. Just like in the dream. In that awful dream, you had told him you couldn’t stay anymore, that you were done. He had watched you walk away, helpless, his heart breaking. The ache lingered even now, like a heavy stone in his chest.

He shot up in bed, his eyes frantically scanning the room, his mind racing. Was it just a nightmare? Or were you really gone? Fear clawed at him, choking him, drowning him in the thought that maybe it wasn’t just a dream. Where were you?

Then, a soft creak of the bathroom door broke through the silence. A figure stepped out—it was you. The tightness in his chest loosened, but the fear still gripped him. His heart raced with the thought that you might still leave.

“Hey,” you whispered softly, noticing the distress on his face. You crossed the room quickly, concern filling your eyes as you sat next to him. “Rin, what’s wrong?”

His eyes were wide, his breathing uneven as if you could vanish at any second. “You… you weren’t here,” he muttered, his voice low and shaky. “I thought you left.”

You frowned, gently cupping his cheek. “Left? I was just in the bathroom. Why would I leave?”

He swallowed hard, trying to calm the panic, but the nightmare had felt too real. “I had a dream,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “You said you couldn’t stay, and when I woke up, you were gone. I—I thought you really left.”

Your heart ached at how vulnerable he sounded, so shaken, so scared. Without a second thought, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close. His body was tense, but as he rested his head on your shoulder, you could feel him start to relax.

“I’m right here,” you murmured softly, your fingers gently running through his hair. “I’m not going anywhere, Rin. I promise.”

He clung to you as if you might disappear, closing his eyes and focusing on the warmth of your body, the steady rhythm of your breathing. It pulled him away from the lingering terror of the nightmare, grounding him.

“I hate that dream,” he mumbled into your neck, his voice barely a whisper. “It felt so real. I was so scared.”

“I know,” you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. “But it was just a dream, okay? I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Your words were like a soothing balm, and slowly, the fear that had gripped him began to fade. He relaxed further into your embrace, the panic finally melting away.

You stayed like that for a while, holding each other in the quiet of the night. Eventually, you pulled back slightly to look at him, your hand still resting softly on his cheek.

“You know,” you said, a teasing smile playing on your lips, “if I ever did leave, it would only be for snacks. I couldn’t survive without you for long.”

A small chuckle escaped his lips, the tension finally disappearing. “Snacks, huh?”

“Yep,” you nodded with mock seriousness. “And I’d bring you back something good, of course.”

Rintarou smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “You’d better.”

You both lay back down, his arms wrapped securely around you this time. He held you close, feeling your warmth, the steady beat of your heart calming him. As sleep began to pull him under again, the nightmare seemed like nothing more than a distant memory. He had you here with him, and that was all he needed.

ᯓ★ TAGGING : @worldsxtar @yoghurtsan @lxdymoon0357 @achy-boo

#ᯓ★ 𝓜𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 #haikyuu #haikyuu suna rintarou #suna rintarou x reader #haikyuu x reader #suna rintarou fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu one shot #haikyuu scenario #suna x reader #suna fluff #suna rintaro #suna rintarō #suna rintarou x you #suna x you #suna imagines #suna one shot #suna rintarou Imagines

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mae-gi-writes · 17 days ago

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let it be me | kuroo tetsurou (2)

In which you, as a new divorcée, can't help but crush on your 4-year-old's new PE Coach.

genre: singleparent!reader x coach! Kuroo, fluff, acquaintances-to-lovers

taglist: @patpatspatz @matchagirliris @multi-fandom-fanfic @alittlebirdahgaselx @kuroos--little--kitten @menacejelly12 @aeshiue @dreamlessnight @altheades @loonalockley @not-your-average-fangirl @bertqut1 @sunlixfl-blog @nabboo007

a/n: enjoy! <3 thanks for all the love given to the first part of this story! here's the second part. Third part is coming soon ~

---- previous | part two | next part >>>

"He can't be serious."

You sigh and watch the wine in your glass slosh around, creating beautiful patterns along the rim of your glass, "unfortunately, I think he is."

Your cousin has on an expression you can't quite place, in-between disgust and pure confusion. He's at the microwave, busy heating up some popcorn. Having adamantly asked you to sit on his couch while taking care of the snacks, you thus decided to watch Sakura play with her legos along the carpet, keeping a watchful eye in case one might end up in her mouth.

"He's only marrying her for the money," is what he concludes after a small pause.

You snort into your glass, take a sip of it and allow the bitterness to coat your tongue, "I wish that were true."

"How would you know that?"

" 'Tsumu, is it written stupid on my forehead?" your own wrinkles in distaste, "I see the way he looks at her. He's--" you choke on your words then, the knot in your throat growing tenfold, "--he's in love with her."

"Who is in love, mum?"

"No one at all," you're quick to answer upon noticing Sakura has been listening in. She normally doesn't, a kid that enjoys staring off into space and conjuring make-believe stories, where there's magic and only happy endings. You try and force a smile onto your face, "how's the house construction for Princess Peach going?"

Your daughter lets out a laugh as she presents to you a square that looks nothing like a house. Still, you coo at it, "so pretty! I bet princess peach would love it."

Your conversation with Atsumu has to wait until Sakura is tucked away in her uncle's bedroom and has listened to three stories about princesses, before you manage to join him back onto the couch where he's busy watching a rerun of volleyball matches.

You don't get to see him much now, courtesy of the fact that he's a national athlete and has been booked at the big games representing Japan. You couldn't be prouder, and yet his permanent absence does still leave a big hole in your heart whenever he flies over a thousand miles. Atsumu had been your rock since you guys were kids, defending you on the school playground and dragging you around to parties and birthdays without your consent. He'd taken care of you as a big brother would and he still is. You don't know how to repay this kind of kindness.

You're just thankful that he has one week off so that you can rant and ramble about the unfairness of the world. At least with Atsumu here, it appeases the pain, if just a little.

"Have you signed the papers yet?" he asks, handing you the bowl of popcorn.

You grab a handful, popping onto of them into your mouth as you answer, "not yet."

"You should ask him for alimony, at least."

"I'm not sure I'd win that, 'Tsumu."

"Still," his nose wrinkles in distaste, "this feels unfair. And why are you the one taking care of Sakura on your own? And I don't mean the parenting part. What about the finances? Why can't he contribute?"

"Because he's a dick and he thinks he can get away with it," you're glad that the tv is providing a welcome distraction, for you can't bear to look into Atsumu's eyes, "I'm just going to sign it and be done with it. I don't want Sakura to suffer any longer. It's not fair on her, she barely sees him."

"Well maybe it's time you find someone else too, y/n."

Your thoughts suddenly flash to Kuroo's beautiful smile and you have to physically force yourself to keep from grinning. You can feel the heat from the back of your neck and come up with the excuse that it's still too early and that Sakura wouldn't like her world shattering just for your happiness.

But it seems that Atsumu knows you better than that, for he asks, "are you blushing?"

"Wha--" Panic skitters through you, "no. No, why would I blush?"

His eyebrows raise, "you’ve met someone then?"

"N--No. Not at all. It's--" you realize you're blundering when his smile widens slightly, "it's not like that."

"So who's the lucky guy?"

"Atsumu."

"Y/N," his eyes glisten with playfulness and he nudges your shoulder, "c'mon. Tell me!"

You let out another breath and mumble, "He’'s not someone I met. He's...Just someone I know."

"And how do you know him?"

"He's Sakura's PE coach."

Atsumu lets out a whistle, "well that--" he shakes his head, "--that's not what I imagined at all."

"Shut up."

"So you like him?"

"It's not--It's really not like that. I--" you try and rack your brain for anything to say because this is really embarrassing. Who has a crush at the age of twenty-nine? Practically all of your friends are already married and have kids, talk about husband problems and how they wish for their youth back. And you? Here you are, thinking you might have a crush. You're no better than a middle school girl.

Which is why you say, "I don't even know him."

"You just think he's cute?"

"Precisely. But there are a lot of cute guys. It doesn't mean anything."

“Right,” Atsumu lets out a breath before he leans back into the couch, “but you know what I think?”

You hum in response.

“I think you should get laid—“

You almost spit out your wine in shock, gape at him in horror, “Atsumu!”

Again, your brain goes into overdrive at the thought of Kuroo and his sweaty chest, the breadth of his shoulders, the way he just towers over your small frame…

NO! You slam onto your mental brakes and shake your head, “you’re disgusting.” You spit out.

“I’m telling the truth princess. I really believe in the power of s—“

“Don’t—“ you cut him off with a raised palm, “don’t even say it.”

“So tell me,” Atsumu proceeds to wriggle his brows suggestively which makes it even harder to stop the blush igniting along your face, “this guy, how handsome is he? Must be pretty good-looking for you to be blushing like that.”

“Shut up ‘Tsumu, it’s not like that at all. Just stop. He's like--half of my age."

“Alright alright,” he laughs his deep-bellied laughter and wraps an arm around you in a gentle, comforting hug, “but if ever you do get lais with him, you gotta tell me.”

“Mum, what does ‘getting laid’ mean?”

“Oh!” Your head snaps to the doorway only to see your daughter all sleepy-eyed and clutching a spare pillow.

“Sakura!” You scramble to over, casting your cousin a scowl as you do, “c’mon, sweetie. Let’s get you back to bed.”

You hear Atsumu’s laughter follow you all the way to the bedroom.

————

It’s weird when Sakura isn’t around.

It’s almost like you’ve lost your purpose. But then again, you should be taking advantage of this right? That’s what everyone keeps telling you.

But alas, something in you cannot just let yourself rest for fear that your thoughts may go into a black hole of what ifs and images of Sakura with your ex-husband’s wife —well, almost ex-husband— and thus decide to take on a last-minute order.

It’s a simple enough request— a birthday cake. While you usually plan events from A to Z, this order merely requested a cake of any kind. So that’s how you spend your Saturday morning — creating a dough and sugar decorations that would fit into the theme of “Halloween”, as per what your client has asked.

You drive up to the pin location around four in the afternoon, strolling through the streets until the google maps signals you that you’ve arrived to your destination. Turning off the ignition at the said house — a beautiful Victorian home adorned with columns twice your height and size — you open your door only to come face to face with a familiar pair of golden eyes.

“Coach?”

“Kosuke-san?”

You both stare. And stare.

It’s shock that comes first. Before realization slaps you in the face, “oh!” You quickly bow in hopes that you haven’t been staring too long, “good afternoon, Coach. What—What brings you here?”

"Kosuke-san," he bows and looks just as surprised as you are, before he notices the way you're struggling to juggle to cake in your arms, "here, let me help you."

Without hesitation, he opens the door a bit wider and closes the gap between you, lifting the box from your arms, "jeez how heavy is this thing?"

You let out a small laugh, "it's all the icing sugar."

"Come in," he gestures with his chin for you to follow and as you step into the threshold he continues, "so when you said you were an event planner--I didn't expect you to be a cake designer too."

"It's an extra service I provide," you shrug, "I'm a patissier by career. Event planning is just something that keeps the cash flowing."

Kuroo pauses in mid-step then, "you're a patissier?"

"Yeah. Well, I was," you chuckle, "but anyway, it's been a while since I've baked now. So I hope it's just as good as you expect it to be."

Kuroo opens his mouth only to be cut off by a horde of boys stumbling into what appears to be the kitchen area. Now that you have a better look, it's all white marble and golden taps and golden handles on every piece of furniture to match. In any case, this house screams of money and for a minute, you feel a bit small and insignificant in your stained-flour blouse, the splotches of paint across your faded out jeans, courtesy of Sakura's art skills.

"You must be y/n!" one of the boys detaches himself. His orange hair glistens in the sun streaming through the window and he's a bit shorter than Kuroo. He beams at you and you can't help but be reminded of a puppy, "thanks for taking my order on such a short notice!"

"No worries at all. You must be...Hinata?"

"Yes!" he shakes your hand, "so I see you've met Kuroo! He's one of my best mates! We used to play against each other back in high school."

"Really now?" you quirk a brow in Kuroo's direction, watching the muscles of his arms ripple as he places the cake in an orderly manner inside the fridge. His voice is muffled when he replies, "yeah, he's the midget that made us jump for our lives. I hated him."

"You're just sour because you lost that one time," Hinata pouts, "but anyway, this is the rest of the ex-team!"

And so that's how you get a round of names that you will probably forget in five minutes and Kuroo, having seen the confusion in your eyes, can't help but laugh to himself because the sight is somewhat adorable. And he knows he shouldn't find it, he knows you're off limits because first, you're a mom from the school and two, you're married and have a kid. It's definitely not at all appropriate for his eyes to be roaming over your curves or to linger over the light glittering in your eyes.

Get a hold of yourself, he mentally whacks the back of his head.

“Where’s the little munchkin?” Kuroo asks you once you’re all settled after having been wheedled by Hinata to stay (“please please please you did such a great job on the cake” is what he’d begged). You’re now perched onto a plush lounge chair, a mixture of juice and vodka in your hand and watching the nth match of pingpong between someone whose name you forget and the other whose name sounds like Daichi. Though yoj might be wrong.

You’re glad for Kuroo’s presence, for even if he is a stranger, he still feels familiar to you right now in this setting.

“Sakura’s with her father today,” you explain with a slight smile in hopes it doesn’t give any of that bitterness away.

Kuroo opens his mouth like he wants so say something — anything— but you beat him to it, “we’re not together. Not anymore.”

His eyes widen with realization and you see it, the way he’s putting all the puzzle pieces together, “I’m sorry to hear,” is what he finally musters.

“Nothing be to be sorry about.”

“So… the name Kosuke…”

“Is my maiden name,” you reply, “I’ve never changed names. Looking back, I think I’ve done the right thing.”

Kuroo isn’t sure whether he should be mad for you or hurt in your place. After all, who in their right mind would leave their wife and their toddler daughter?

He deals with little kids every day, so he knows exactly what they’re like on a daily basis, and it’s not easy.

“I’m sorry,” it seems that’s the only thing he knows how to say.

“Really,” you laugh at him, “how can you be sorry when it’s not even your fault?”

Kuroo shrugs and grins bashfully because yes, it’s true and he still doesn’t know what to say. So he decides to ask, “And Sakura… how is she?”

“She doesn’t realize it. She’s too young,” your smile fades slightly, “in a way, I hope that’s a good sign.”

His heart clenches at the thought of you raising this kid alone. He can’t even imagine it. It makes sympathy swim inside his chest like an ache he can’t quite ignore. The look on your face suggests that you’ve been let down and he has the sudden impulse to tell you that everything will be alright, will be okay.

But he can’t do that. You’ll think of him as a creep. So he bites his tongue and look away instead, at the war of pingpong ongoing between his two friends. In a way, he’s glad for the distraction as he sips on his beer.

“And you?” Your voice piping up surprises him. His eyes flit back to your face. You continue, “married? Engaged?”

Kuroo’s throat bobs as he chuckles, “no. None of that.”

“How come?” You take a sip of your cocktail, “you don’t seem like the type to wound up alone with a hundred cats.”

“No no,” he can’t help but laugh because one, you’re hella attractive to him; tiny and frail and looking like he can fit you in a box no problem and two; you’re actually entertaining to be around. Something that he’s found lacking in his previous dates, “I just didn’t find anyone special yet.”

“Well there's no rush,” you lift your cocktail as you speak, “and anyway, you’re still young. You should enjoy it while you can.”

“Young?” Kuroo’s face breaks into a grin as his golden orbs glimmer down at you, amused, “how old do you think I am?”

"Uhm--I don't know. Early twenties?"

"I'm twenty-five," he gives you a look, "how old are you?"

"Twenty-eight. Going on twenty-nine."

"You look like you've just gotten out of college though," Kuroo's smirk is visible even behind his beer as he chugs down most of his drink, "if I didn't know better, I'd say you and Sakura were sisters."

"Not even," you retort, "And excuse me, but you look younger than twenty-five."

"I make up for it in height," he peers down at you, "but I suppose you wouldn't understand that considering--"

Your arm whacks at his shoulder before you know it. A playful gesture surely, but one that you don't really use on your daughter's teachers. Let alone ones that have bulging muscles and a figure to die for. You stare at your hand for a long minute, your brain going blank, before your eyes whip up to his and horror seeps into your gaze.

"Oh my god!" you screech and recoil like he's the one that had slapped you, "I'm so sorry, I--It's just--automatic you know, my cousin--he's got the same humor and--well I--I'm really sorry--"

The guffaw that leaves Kuroo's mouth is so loud that it causes heads to turn, even the ones invested in the ping pong game. He bends over while holding his stomach and the initial panic that you have wears off upon seeing him look so joyously happy. You can't help but chuckle along.

"What?" you say when he's regained most of his breath, "what's so funny?"

"You are," he grins, before it turns mischievous, "senpai."

"Hey--now that's going a bit too far!"

You're not quite sure what time you get home that night. But you do know that you've gone to sleep with a smile on your face.

————

"Kuroo sensei! He stole my ball!"

A typical Monday morning where Kuroo is busy surveilling the fifth graders as they decided to play basketball during their free time. He's not one to deny such requests, actually enjoys watching them play and seeing them grow day by day, developing their techniques. But to say that he's a bit in the clouds would be an understatement.

"Kuroo sensei!"

He finally snaps back to reality. Blinks down at the tiny boy with the biggest scowl he's ever seen yet, "yes I'm sorry. What's wrong?"

"He stole my ball!" the young boy points at one of the chubby classmates who seems quite content in playing by himself, "and now he's saying that it was his!"

Kuroo can't help but raise a brow. He's taught that class before, knows exactly that the chubby little kid doesn't have that many friends, including the boy standing before him.

"I don't think he stole your ball."

It's a bold statement, but from the way the tiny student squirms and averts his gaze, Kuroo believes he is right, "but--but he did! He really did steal my ball!"

"I have an idea," Kuroo bends down to his height, not able to restrain the grin along his face at the pout forming on the student's lips, "why don't you go and play with him? He seems a bit lonely."

"Yeah that's because he never talks to anyone in class."

"Then why don't you be the first? hm?" he nudges the boy's shoulder, "show your class a good example. Come on."

With a bit more reassurance, the said student goes over and Kuroo watches fondly as the two exchange awkward greetings before the chubby student nods his head, glancing at his PE coach like he'd just dropped a bomb.

Five minutes later, they're playing together like best friends.

And Kuroo goes back to daydreaming.

He's not usually like this. So out of it, so inside his own head that he can't see the outside world. But ever since that party he's been wondering when's the next time he'd get to see you, to talk to you. Not just as Sakura's mum but as someone, maybe a friend. He's addicted to the way your eyes curve up before your lips are even drawn into a smile, like you're sharing a special secret with him before the world gets a flash of blinding white teeth. He enjoys watching you move about because you're just so tiny, holding cups with two hands and always having to tiptoe about to find stuff. But most of all, that conversation with you had him dreaming of more. He wants to know you, that initial curiosity turning to what he'd define as stupid infatuation.

Yes, Kuroo Tetsurou has a crush, and he's not quite sure how to feel about it.

"--Earth to Kuroo?"

He blinks. In front of him stands his colleague and friend Bokuto. Having faced each other off countlessly during their high school days, it was a miracle and lovely surprise to see him at the new year induction. Since then, they’d been a constant pair inside the school walls and creating assignments, organizing and coordinating events had never been so fun.

“Sorry,” he mumbles and rubs a hand over his face.

“You look like death, mate,” Bokuto leans on the fencing that separates the courts from the building, “why the long face?”

“Haven’t slept well,” Kuroo says, but he knows he’s not convincing when Bokuto’s eyebrows raise in question.

“You? Firm believer of 10hrs of sleep every day?” His friend shakes his head, “no way. Tell me what happened. What’s got you looking so dazed?”

“It’s noth—“ he halts. Maybe he can find some advice? Bokuto’s known for being a badass romantic after all. Maybe he can have something wise to say.

Like tell Kuroo you’re way out of his league and— what the hell is he even thinking, dating someone’s mom? Someone older than him, at that?

The words burst out of his mouth without warning:

“I think I like someone.”

Bokuto merely blinks. His face lights up, “well that explains it. Who?”

Kuroo’s arm swings to the back to scratch his neck, “it’s… one of the student’s mom’s.”

The last few words are said in a mumble, causing Bokuto to lean into his friend with a wide-eyed gaze, surprise flitting across his face when he realizes what Kuroo has just said.

“No,” the grey-haired man’s mouth turns into an “o” as he stares his friend down, “no way. Who?”

“I don’t think you know her. Sakura Kosuke?” Kuroo prompts.

“Sakura Kosuke…” Bokuto shakes his head in thought, “haven’t heard of that one. But—-Kuroo! I thought older women weren’t your style!”

“She’s not that old,” Kuroo’s face flames, “only by three years.”

"Who would've thought," Bokuto breathes out with a chuckle when a thought suddenly occurs to him, "wait-- it's not the chick who came by with the cake last weekend?"

Kuroo nods and awkwardly clears his throat, "yeah, the very same."

"Ha! If only I knew! I would've done my best to set you up!"

"It's not funny!"

But now that Bokuto has some leverage of information, he's definitely not going to let it go and Kuroo kind of regrets spilling the beans to him, of all people. That, and the probably fact that he’ll be spreading this news like wildfire across their friend group.

Thankfully, Kuroo’s schedule makes it that it’s hard to think about anything but work since midterm season is approaching for his other primary school colleagues. There’s after-school shows and events for every single activity and since he’s being asked to help for every single thing (because he’s the preschool teacher and, yeah! How come you don’t have any events planned for your preschoolers?!). Which means that he doesn’t have actual time to think about you, not even when he’s finally home and mustering up enough strength to brush his teeth, take a shower and dump himself in bed.

He does, however, collide head-first into you one week day as you’re hurrying out of the principal’s office, looking flustered and red-faced.

“Kosuke-san,” he takes a longing glance your rosy cheeks and felt his hand tingle with want. Just to see if it’s as soft as he imagines it to be? “You okay?”

“Kuroo sensei,” you run a hand through your locks and causing your hair to get even more disheveled, “hi, sorry— how are you? It’s been a while.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You’re looking a bit more greenish now that he sees you in the light.

“Yes I—“ your hands flutter up before you in an attempt to find an explanation, “—just came back from a meeting with Sakura’s teacher.”

“Oh?” Kuroo frowns, “what—nothing bad, I hope?”

“It’s just—well,” you try to chuckle but it comes out like a whimper, “apparently she got into a fight with one of the other girls in her class. Got a few injuries herself so…”

Your eyes are wet and it seems you’re half a second away from a breakdown. So it’s only natural for Kuroo to take a few steps closer to you before he whispers a soft, “hey hey, you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you take a shaky breath, “it’s just been a long, hard morning.”

“Yeah,” Kuroo bites onto his lower lip, not sure what to do to make things better as he watches your chest move up and down in staggered breaths.

That’s when an idea hits him. He makes a grab for the back of your elbow and the smallness, the thinness of your limb takes him be surprise as he steers you out of the corridor.

And when your wide eyes flutter up to his, he quickly says something along the lines of, “I know a place. It’ll make you feel better.”

That’s how he finds himself dragging you to the nearby coffee place he always frequents— called Espresso Block— a small vintage bakery run by none other than his good friend Osamu Miya, as part of his expansion branch from his onigiri restaurants.

"Y/N!" Osamu greets as soon as he spots your face trailing behind Kuroo's tall figure. He pushes the raven-haired man aside with impatience before sauntering over and wrapping you up in a bear hug.

"Osamu," you breathe in the scent of baked croissants lingering on his uniform, "you're choking me."

"Oh--sorry," he drops you and grins sheepishly, that is before he registers that you're together with one of his friends, causing his eyes to narrow, "how do you two know each other?"

"Kosuke-san is Sakura's mother and she was having a bad day," Kuroo explains before he turns to you, "how do you know him?"

Did you imagine the five-second frostiness that came from his tone? Maybe not, as you reply, "he's my cousin. We grew up together. I taught him how to play volleyball back in primary school."

Kuroo's relief is instant. Thank god, it's not a close friend, nor is it a romantic partner candidate. His mood brightens instantly and without further ado he proceeds to lead you towards a table in the back.

He doesn’t fail to ignore the way Osamu’s eyes are following him all the way back to his table as he carries the two drinks — strawberry latte for him and a black coffee for you — and Kuroo can just hope that his dear friend can keep his distance until you've gone.

Becayse he's quite certain he will be subject to interrogation. Especially if you're that close to Osamu.

Placing the tray on the table, he takes out the mug and pushes it into your hands before finding his seat opposite you. You grab the cup between your two palms and take a deep breath as Kuroo sips on his latte.

The sweetness of the strawberry never disappoints. It’s refreshing and brings a smile to his lips. Osamu sure knows his desserts.

“I'm really sorry about what happened earlier," you seem to have composed yourself from earlier. You take a small sip of your coffee and Kuroo watches in amusement as you shudder.

"Do you want some milk with that?" he can't help but ask.

You nod and look shameful, and Kuroo's heart squeezes with sympathy. Your eyes are tinged with aprons of blue and there are tired lines lining your eyes and the corners of your mouth. It's only when he comes back -- from having gotten some steamed milk from Osamu and a suggestive wink to match -- you dip your head into a nod and mumble out a soft 'thanks', eyes glued to the way the dark brown turned into a creamy latte.

"You could've asked me for a latte," Kuroo smiled to show that he didn't mind at all. But you winced.

"I'm sorry--"

"Don't say sorry," he softened, "just--next time, you can tell me what you want, Kosuke-san. I'm not here to bite you...unless you want me to."

Your eyes flit up to his in surprise and Kuroo pinks at his words. They'd just slipped out on their own. It's not like he'd wanted to sound flirty when you're looking all shaky and worse for wear. He quickly clear his throat and tries to change the subject, "how are Sakura's injuries?"

"She's fine, got herself a bruised lip."

His eyebrows raise in surprise, "woah, that's still something."

"Yeah," you mutter and take another sip. And then another, "I hope this doesn't become a habit."

"I've taught Sakura since the start of this semester," Kuroo leans forward, elbows propped onto the table, "and I can tell you--she's anything but violent."

"I really hope you're right about this. I can't have her running around beating up everyone."

Kuroo stifled a small laugh, "to be honest, I think it's good she knows how to defend herself."

You shoot him a look and he can't help but laugh. And it's so contagious, the way it booms out of him like a melody, that you cannot restrain yourself from joining in.

"You're right," you say in-between chuckles.

"Maybe she got her mom's feisty spirit," Kuroo adds.

"No way. I was as silent as a mouse," you retort, "if she got anything like that, it's probably from her father's--"

You halt in mid-conversation, wanting to bite down your tongue for even mentioning him and quickly flash Kuroo a bashful smile in hopes he'll just brush it off, "sorry, let's not talk about him--"

"Kosuke-san, you really have to stop saying sorry all the time," Kuroo says with a grin, "it's not healthy."

"I know, I'm--" you catch yourself and he bursts out laughing once more at your face, "don't say it! No matter what!" he chides.

"Stop--" but you're grinning from ear to ear, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling, "--Kuroo sensei, I hope you're not as playful with your students or they'd never learn anything from you."

"Course not," he winks, "I keep that solely for the pretty ladies."

His suggestive tone makes you blush despite it all and you look down at your coffee with the blush blazing so hard across your cheeks you swear everyone can see its colour from afar.

"I don't know how it is at home though," Kuroo's voice brings you out of your small bubble of warmth, "it must be tough handling Sakura all alone. Do you ever take a break?"

"Well, she goes to see her dad ever two weeks. But other than that, she's always with me unless my parents decide to come over. Which isn't as often as I would like."

"Why's that?"

"They live in the countryside and have a farm. It's hard for them to take days off, and I don't blame them not wanting to be around," your voice lowers to a mutter at the last few words, "especially after what happened with the marriage and all..."

"Marriages fail every time," Kuroo says gently then, "that too, isn't your fault."

"I wish my parents believed that," you let out a small laugh, "but they're right. We were too young to get married."

"But you have Sakura right? Isn't she worth it?"

His eyes, golden flecked and filled with so much hope and softness, meet yours from across the table. You suddenly feel a bit hot in your seat, wanting to squirm as you quickly look away from Kuroo's gaze because dear god, it's almost like he's ripping away, ripping apart every single layer of self-protection and preservation and reading you out like an open book.

"You're right," you clear your throat upon realizing he'd still been waiting for your response, "she is worth every single second. I wouldn't change anything about what happened. I just--I wish my parents could see it that way too."

"I think you spend a little too much time stressing about things you can't control," Kuroo takes another sip of his latte, "how about you learn to let go a bit? Maybe take the day off? Go hiking?"

"With Sakura?" you shake your head, "impossible, I--"

"Surely you have someone that can take care of her while you're gone," he tilts his head, jaw resting into one of his hands and making him appear all the more handsome.

Your thoughts flash to Atsumu. He's right, you could technically take a day off by dropping Sakura with the blonde. But she's not his responsibility and Atsumu has other priorities in his life rather than hang out with his niece. But Kuroo's persistence is strong and he makes you -- practically orders you -- to text him when he connects the dots that you two are also family.

"That guy can learn a thing or two about being responsible anyway," grins Kuroo, "so I'm sure he won't mind."

————

How did you end up here?

That's the question you keep asking yourself -- even when you're busy picking out your clothes only to realize that you barely have anything that's worth 'party material', even when you're attempting to do your makeup even though it's been almost three (or four?) years since you've tried to look your best because Sakura's wellbeing always came first.

Even when you're strapping up your black ankle boots, the question is getting drilled into your brain like a broken mixtape as you wonder whether this is a good idea after all.

"Go," Atsumu is firm when you call him for the nth time. It's five minutes until Kuroo's supposed to pick you up and feeling the pressure on your shoulders, you quickly decide to call your cousin in an emergency, "you have to do it, y/n. Stop making this all about Sakura. You need to be happy too."

"I am happy," was what you'd mumbled out in the phone receiver. You don't realize how tightly you're gripping the phone, so tight that your knuckles have turned white.

"I know you are, but you'll be happier if you live for yourself. At least for one night," Atsumu responds, "and Sakura's safe with me. And if ever there's an issue I'll call Osamu first to--"

"What?! No! No you call me first, okay?"

"Y/n please just relax. It's supposed to be a fun night."

You slump against the wall in defeat, "I don't even know why I'm doing this," you mumble mostly to yourself, though you're certain he can hear it too, "there's no point trying to prove that I'm content with my life. There are things that are going to leave me unsatisfied. I'm--I was fine with that, really."

"Are you though?" your cousin's voice is accusatory this time, "you're ready to live just for Sakura? Making her happy will make you happy too? Is this how it's supposed to work?"

"Technically yes, I'm her mother--"

"--And you've been left behind!"

The words are like a slap. You bite down onto your lower lip.

It draws blood.

You hiss, sucking on the skin as the metallic taste hits your tongue.

In truth, Atsumu has a point. You can't just live to make Sakura happy because that will ultimately destroy you. Not because she's not the only thing you need in your life. But because despite having your little girl being the center of your world, despite being able to sustain her with your career, you still feel like it's just yesterday when Aoi had upped and left you. His excuses, as pathetic as they had been, were arrows shooting straight into your heart. He left you crying into your pillow that night, hovering over your figure until you'd told him to 'get lost or I'll call the cops on you' before curling up on the small couch that you'd gotten rid of once he'd moved out for good.

So much pain. So much pain and haunted nights and obstacles that had come your way. That, along with caring for Sakura, had been a big hurdle. You remembered the long mornings, how hard it had been to drag yourself out of bed for the first few days. Atsumu had volunteered to stay with you then, giving you all the support you needed until you'd had enough strength to get back on your feet.

So he knew exactly what you'd gone through. Had seen it all first-hand. He wasn't kidding when he said you really needed to get laid. Somehow, he seems to have a valid point.

But it's been so long since you've left the dating scene that the thought of it makes you want to vomit.

"I'm sorry y/n, that wasn't cool." Atsumu's voice flows through the receiver like a lullaby and you take a deep, staggering breath, "I just--I know how hard it's been pulling your weight and caring for Sakura. It practically consumed your entire life. It's about time you get that motherfucker back for screwing things up--"

"Language," you tsk at him.

"You know what I mean," he replies impatiently, "So go out there, have fun. Get smashed. And at least do something to make you happy for a change. Alright?"

"Yeah okay," you mumble.

"And plus, you're with a bunch of guys that I know. They're cool. They'll keep an eye on you."

"Thanks mom."

"Anytime hun."

You can't help but giggle before you hear a car pulling up outside, "alright. I think my ride's here."

"Yeah, try to get laid okay--"

"Atsumu!" your cheeks flame, "I hope you're not saying all this in front of Sakura!"

A burst of laughter echoes from the receiver, "don't worry, miss Sakura is asleep. Have fun y/n! Take pictures!"

The drive there is less awkward than you'd imagined it to be, despite the fact that Kuroo's get-up does make your mouth salivate. And not just you. You realize a bunch of girls have him on their radar, from the stolen glances driven his way as you follow his broad back out of the parking and into the small terrace-looking entrance flanked by colored glowing palm trees.

"I haven't been in a club for like four years," you confess to him as you trudge into the queue. The air smells like cigarette and smoke. And something else. Something dangerous. It makes you giddy, you realize.

"Four years?" his eyes grow round as he looks down at you, "you have drunk before right? To the brink of passing out?"

"Like...maybe four years ago?"

His mouth opens, then closes. He shakes his head, a smile curving at the edges of his lips, "remind me not to drown you with tequila."

"I'll try my best."

You meet the rest of the gang upon stumbling into the club. It's dark and pulsating with music, with two dance floors separated by the DJ stationed on a platform right in the middle. Lights are bouncing off the space like crazy and all around you are moving bodies that writh and mold together until you're not sure where one ends and the other begins.

“Y/N! You’re here!” A drunk Hinata hooks an arm around your shoulder before steering you towards the bar, “you’re just in time! We were going for a round of lambos.”

“Lambos?” You balk and meet Kuroo’s eye, “you mean— Lamborgini’s?”

“Hell yeah!” Another one of the guys chimes in. It’s almost comical, the way they’re all stumbling against each other as you move like a congregation until you’re straight up in front of the barman.

“Ten Lambo’s please!” Hinata slams his card ontot he counter.

It brings back a wave of nostalgia, seeing the line of glasses and the way the bartender drops the alcohol in like he can do it with his eyes closed. You’re jostled and pressed against warm chests and shoulders, surrounded from all sides and yet, you feel safe with them all. That is, until you feel a soft brush against your elbow.

You turn to see Kuroo’s warm golden orbs.

“All okay?” He mouths to you.

You nod and give him a smile in return, and the grin that he cracks makes a troop of butterflies swoop into your stomach.

You look away just as Hinata thrusts a glass into your hands, “come y/n! This one’s on me!”

One shot becomes two. And two become three. Soon enough you find yourself on the dance floor and moving to the beat with one of the girls from the group— Yachi?— while the guys are trying to pay each other back their shots. The music vibrates through the floor up your body and flood your veins so that you get lost in it, ecstasy and the thrill of just being alive finally gushing through your brain, fogged up and amplified by the alcohol in your bloodstream.

It’s amazing. You feel free. Like nothing can stop you.

It’s honestly the best you’ve felt in a while.

After a while, you and Yachi decide to take a well-deserved break, stumbling over to the clustered seating space filled with red cushions as the boys scatter to find more alcohol. At this point you’re surprised that they’re still moving around and conscious, considering the amount they’ve drunk.

One of the boys— the one with the kind smile called Daichi— offers to get you guys some water as you take a seat, allowing your tired legs to take a break.

“I’m going to fine Hinata!” Yachi says into your ear and you nod before ushering her out of your way. There’s something between those two, a kind of tension that will develop into something more if they just allow it.

But you’re not one to meddle, not when your own love life’s a mess.

That’s when you notice.

It’s the lingering stare out of the corner of your peripheral that makes you turn your head.

Then you see him.

A tall, lanky man. He’s seated right opposite you, a drink in his hand and taking a swig. But there’s no mistake, for when his eyes meet yours across the room you can only jolt in shock.

You look away with embarrassment and disgust. Heat spreads to the back of your neck and goosebumps run up your arms. Suddenly, it’s a little too cold in this hot, sweaty club.

Why is he looking at you like that?

There’s no mistaking the intention. You risk one more glance and confirm that indeed, there’s a darkness in his eyes; the kind of a predator.

The kind that wants to strip you bare.

It’s unsetttling, unnerving.

Disgusting.

You don’t even hesitate. It’s like instinct for you jump off your seat with the only purpose to find Kuroo. But to your terror, the man starts to follow you. And soon enough it becomes a game of catch: of cat and mouse. You almost trip over your high heels as you push through the moving bodies as quickly as you can.

But the figure is there, hovering over you like a dark shadow that causes your heart to clench.

You bite back a whimper, pushing through a throng of girls as you frantically search for a sign of Kuroo’s familiar mop of hair. Or Hinata’s. Or just about anyone for that matter—

Bumping into a chest, you’re more than surprised as you let out a small yelp only to hear a familiar alto.

“Kosuke-san, everything alright?”

“K—Kuroo sensei,” your mumble is drowned in the beats of the music, eyes darting between his face and the dodgy man.

He’s now standing by the bar a few feet away from you. The same kind of withering stare that makes you wince.

Hurriedly, you turn to Kuroo and grip his shirt, wanting nothing more than to hide behind him, “I—uhm— there’s someone—“ the words jumble up as they pour out of your mouth and you find you can do nothing but grip his shirt for dear life, like Kuroo’s the only thing that can help you out of here.

Thankfully, he seems to understand your dilemma, for he puts a hand on your shoulder before steering you a little closer to him and away from the main path, a frown evident on his face, “what’s wrong Kosuke-san?”

But it’s only when he follows your fear-stricken eyes that Kuroo realizes there’s something — someone tormenting you. He recognizes the dark hunger, the prowling intent.

Instantly, his hand grips your waist. Tugs you closer.

You stumble into him, “Kuroo sensei—“

But Kuroo’s not having it. He stares the man down with a glower, longer body practically wrapped around yours in a protective embrace as he dares the man to do something, anything.

Try me, his eyes are saying, you’re not going to lay a single hand on her.

The stranger finally breaks eye contact after a few beats of silence and Kuroo keeps watch, golden eyes blazing until the man is nothing more but a memory of smoke as he disappears into the crowd.

Only then does he allow his hold to relax. Tilting down towards you. He murmurs out softly:

“He’s gone, Kosuke-san.”

You’re practically glued to him at this point, face buried in his chest and hands gripping so tightly onto his shirt that you might’ve grown claws. Kuroo nudges you gently once more, and that’s when you look up from the depths of his shirt.

The sight makes him almost coo because goddamnit even in the dim disco lights you look adorable. He has the sudden urge to pinch your cheeks and he’s glad his hands are somewhat occupied along your waist.

“You okay?” Is what he whispers.

You nod, looking a bit shaky and green int the face, “yeah—I’m—I’m fine. Thank you. He was—it scared me.”

“I know,” Kuroo draws away ever so slightly so he can have a better look at your face, “I’ll bring you home, alright?”

“No no it’s okay,” you shake your head and attempt a smile, but even Kuroo can see past those shaky lips, “you stay and have fun. I’ll call an Uber and—“

“Nonsense,” he grabs your elbow once more, “I’ll accompany you. C’mon.”

———

It’s definitely unnerving. It leaves you shaking with fear and you’re thankful for Kuroo’s strong grip on your arm as he maneuvers you out of the club.

The rush of cold wind hits your cheeks, leaving the soft beats of the club behind. Slowly, the world comes back into focus as the air rushes through your lungs and the sound bustling traffic in the distance is brought back into focus.

Only then do you realize how close you’re standing to the coach.

With a start, you stumble away with a muttered “sorry”, not daring to meet his eyes while quickly brushing off your clothes because dear god you weren’t sure what to do with your hands.

The uber arrives without much delay — thankfully — and the ride home is silent, almost as if there’s an awkward tension that has settled between the two of you. Away from the alcohol and now sobering up, it’s impossible to ignore the fact that you’d practically glued yourself to this man earlier. The act is so embarrassing you decidedly keep your gaze on the flurry of bustling streets and dim lamps flying by.

You don’t realize you’ve dozed off until a warm hand is shaking your shoulder, followed by a soft; “we’re here.”

You gasp, noticing that you’ve been pressed against Kuroo’s shoulder all this time.

“Oh,” you scramble away as quick as lightning, “I’m so sorry—“

His lips quirk upwards, “no harm done, senpai.”

You hate it when he calls you that. It makes you sound… old.

Nevertheless, you decide to be quiet as he accompanies you up to your flat, hands in his pockets while following you up the rusty stairs. You hope he’s not judging; it’s not like you have unlimited amounts of funding, what with Sakura’s education and activities.

“Well,” you finally reach the door to your flat and turn on your heel so that you face him, “thanks… for everything.”

"No problem," he's smiling down at you. Still so patient, still so happy to help. Your heart swells in your chest and you ask, "how are you getting back?"

"Oh, probably Uber..." he trails off, already turning away to fish his phone out of his pocket, "it's not far."

"Where do you live?"

You almost bawk when he tells you his address, because it's practically at the other end of town. He'll be there in forty-five minutes, at least.

The words are automatic, shooting out of you, "I'm so--"

But Kuroo's hand whips out, clamping over your lips. Your eyes widen as you look up at him, only to see the young man grinning like there's no tomorrow.

"You really need to stop doing that," he finally says before drawing back. Already, you're hit with the cold air following Kuroo's touch upon your skin, "I wanted to accompany you. There's nothing to apologize for."

"I know, but--"

He throws you another pointed look that has you clamping down on your mouth. You're about to say sorry once more because you're being a pathetic blubbery mess, but the look in his eyes makes you say a soft, "thank you" instead.

"You're welcome," and with one final grin and a wave to match, the school Coach disappears down the corridor, leaving you gazing at his broad back until his silhouette turns the corner and away from your sight.

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bunny-eats-fox · 11 months ago

Text

lost on you | part XVI

MIYA ATSUMU X PLUS SIZE, FEMALE READER

words count : 5633

chapter warning : blood mentioned (nosebleed)

<< XV

-----------

With a heavy sigh (because why could your brain never shut up?), you knew, no matter how often you told yourself, you would finally end it - for real this time! - you never would. Because, despite you constantly worrying and overthinking it, you secretly (or not so secretly) loved the attention Tsumu gave you. The way he made you feel loved and desired… even if he was faking it, probably, still made you feel special just for once. Even if you would never know his real reason and even if you were a little scared that, in the end, maybe he only did it to hurt you as a revenge for how you treated him the past years, you didn’t have it in you to end it. Though, when the day would come – and it inevitably would – when he would break this weird situationship off, you weren’t sure if you could handle that rejection.

Though despite knowing all that, you wanted to get “loved” for just a little longer, even if it was just a fake love; you wanted to indulge in the fantasy of “dating Osamu”, or whatever at that point, and continue the relationship you had. Even if it meant more pain in the end, when it all would inevitably crumble to pieces. You never imagined you would accustom so quickly to the way things were between you and Atsumu now, but being touch- and love-starved sure helped a ton with that. Although it sure was a little bit embarrassing and you wondered if he ever found you desperate…

Regardless, the whole “you would totally end it all for good this time” was yet another empty threat you told yourself to feel better about your childish little sarcastic comment you made.

“Hey, Senpai!”, Ruka’s sudden greeting made you jump. You were so caught up in your own thoughts, you didn't even hear her come inside.

“Ruka! What are ya doing here?”

“Thought I’d come and help ya.”, she grinned and immediately got to work to fill up another tray with cups of water.

You were speechless for a second, but then quickly turned to her properly. As much as the thought of them dating honestly really annoyed you (and you hated that you couldn't even figure out why the hell it did to that extend), you had to apologize to her for being so sarcastically rude like a toddler.

“Thank ya Ruka, and I’m sorry. I… was really childish just now. The whole Osamu-Mia thing, ya know…it’s been rough, but that was still uncalled for, so I mean… if ya like Tsumu, we could try something an-“

“Oh my God, (Y/n)-senpai, noooo.”, she immediately waved her hands then crossed them to show an X, emphasizing her next words even more with that gesture, “Aaaabsolutely hell to the fuck no! Atsumu-senpai is objectively hot, yeah, and generally a nice guy and a great Senpai and friend, but that’s literally it. He is SO not my type. I don’t harbor any feelings for him that would go beyond friendship. His chaotic ass is someone else’s problem one day, deeeeeefinitely not mine.”, then she laughed and teasingly elbowed you.

“I just wanted to tease ya a little and it worked, hahaha. It’s okay. Ya didn’t hurt my feelings or anything.”

“Oh… Rukaaaaa”, you whined and then pouted, “Ya so mean, teasing me like that.”, then playfully and gently elbowed her back.

“I didn't think it would work on ya, Senpai, since it’s Atsumu-senpai, ya know? Or could it be… ya actually liiiike-”

“What no!?”, you hastily refused and laughed nervously, “Hell no. I mean.. like yer said, it’s Atsumu. His chaotic ass is someone else’s problem one day, not mine. I don't even like him like that, like yeah he is nice and funny and all, but still he’s my best friend, just that. I mean, we even shared a crib together, so I can’t even imagine feeling anything more than friendship for him, ya know?”

You knew damn well that Ruka did not buy that at all, her raised eyebrow and the suppressed grin didn't do a good job at hiding that either. But, she simply nodded in agreement and turned back to her tray.

“Mn, I totes get that, Senpai.”

With a small sigh, you were glad she just accepted your awkward way of explaining to her that you absolutely did not harbor any feelings for the older twin. Well, despite some sexual feelings, but that was normal, given the friends-with-benefits thing you’ve got going on, but other than that? You did not feel anything!

Thankfully, by the time you were done, both of you giggled again as you walked out of the Ryokan, each carrying a tray with cups of water.

Simply glad you didn’t make things awkward between Ruka and you, you walked back to the beach. Your conversation continued as you walked and you were simply happy you could forget about the weird situation you were in for a moment. Truly… only for a moment though.

As you walked to the spot with the volleyball net, the boys were in a heated battle still, but Ruka didn’t care at all. With a cheerful “(Y/n)-senpai and I are back, guys!” she got the attention of everyone. Well, no. She got the attention of one – only one.

The moment Atsumu heard your name, he physically couldn’t stop himself from turning his head. Since, the moment he realized you were gone, he had slightly less fun playing against his former team mates. So, naturally, when he heard you were back, he wanted to confirm and look for himself.

Oh, how foolish of him.

He watched as your face went from a smile to a panicked expression in just a second when you looked over. The next thing he heard was your frantic “Tsumu look out!” and when he inevitably looked up, there was no time to react as the volleyball landed directly in his face.

Now, it wasn’t just lightly served over the net. It was a full blown, full force spike from his brother that hit him right in the face. Safe to say, the force of the spike knocked him off his feet and he fell backwards into the sand, his hands immediately covering his aching face. A wave of embarrassment, and also pain, brought tears to his eyes.

“Miya-kun are you alright?!” Mia immediately yelled and ran up to him. Ugh, her voice made the throbbing pain even more unbearable.

When he glanced up, she, as well as the others, circled him as he laid there in the sand. Just hearing her “That looked really painful, are you alright!?” annoyed him so unbelievably much and he really wanted to shout at her to shut the fuck up for once and leave him alone. However, the moment he heard your “Tsumu! Ya good?!”, he didn’t feel that bad anymore.

“Yeah…” Though, when he finally moved his hands from his face, it probably didn’t look “good” to you and he probably knew why, when he felt something warm trickle down his nose to his lips. Tsumu witnessed something beautiful that moment when you, who stood further away, immediately pushed through Suna and Samu plus appendage (Mia) - as they stood closest to him - and shoved Osamu’s girlfriend to the side that way. She squeaked, stumbled and dramatically fell against her boyfriend. If only you would rush to see him without that worried expression on your face.

“Okay, come on. Sit up. Now.”, you said, grabbed his hands and pulled him into a sitting position. The blood immediately dripped faster and his knee-jerk reaction was to hiss a “Fuck!” and tilt his head back, but you knew better.

“Head down! Or do yer wanna drink ya own blood, idiot?”, you said and pushed his head down so the blood freely dropped onto the sand. Even that made his heart jump. After all, weren't you just worried about him? How was he not supposed to be happy about that?

Everyone just quietly watched once you plopped down in front of him, probably because they had such accidents back in high school and you had handled those as well, so they didn’t interfere with your work. Slowly, the circle disappeared, also thanks to Ruka who tried to bribe them with the cups of water. Though, all of that didn't matter to Atsumu any longer when you gently cupped his unscathed cheek and slightly turned his head.

“Do ya feel dizzy? Think yer can stand? Let’s see... Yer cheek’s all red and it seems like ya have a cut on the lip…Nose looks good though.”, you inspected his face and even though he knew it was the worst timing, Atsumu felt a little… shy? Because you were so close and also worried about him. It did make his heart flutter a little.

“Nah, not dizzy. Should be fine.”

“Okay, let’s go back though, just to be safe. That was no light spike, we gotta observe and make sure ya don’t have a concussion.”

“Don’t worry so much, (Y/n), he’s an idiot with a head of steel. Honestly, I hope the volleyball’s okay.”, Samu made light of the situation.

“Samu!”, you immediately looked up with an angry scowl, making his twin visibly flinch and Atsumu thought he heard a small “My bad.”, before you turned back to him, “Let’s go.”

Akagi, Suna and Aran had to quickly look away, because that was awkward. Ruka was just stunned, because throughout all the years she knew you, she had never heard you talk back to Osamu like that. At least not in that sort of tone, usually you would have playfully “exhorted” him, but never meant too seriously. Samu looked a bit embarrassed and uncomfortable, since you would usually laugh at his stupid remarks to make fun of his brother.

But, no one was probably as shocked, to be quite honest, as Atsumu.

He wondered if anyone was capable of hearing his heartbeat because of how fiercely it thumped inside his chest. Atsumu didn’t even know what to say, he just let himself get pulled up by you into a standing position and accepted his t-shirt as a cloth for his blood. Even though he stumbled for a moment, he quickly gained back control over his limbs and was able to walk normally.

You had never told off Osamu before. Especially not in regards to him and that was even more amazing.

“Thanks.” That was all he managed to say, but you just shook your head and made sure to walk closely by his side, just so he wouldn’t suddenly stumble and fall.

The walk back to the Ryokan was wrapped in silence.

“Wait, lemme get the sand off ya or aunty will be livid if we drag that inside.”, you said once you reached the Ryokan and quickly started brushing it off. It showed him once more how comfortable you had become with one another, when you didn’t even think twice about it and patted the sand off his butt and worked your way down his legs to his ankles.

A small shiver ran down his spine, but he kept still otherwise. Who knew all he had to do was get a volleyball spiked in his face for you to be so cute and couple-y with him?

After that procedure, you went inside, snuck past his aunt, so she wouldn’t unnecessarily worry, and got back to your room for the week. Once you pulled out the big towel on the futon, so he could sit down, you looked at his face again.

“Okay, the bleeding has already stopped, so that’s a good sign. Do ya still feel okay? Not foggy or dizzy or anything? Vision’s good?”, you asked him all sorts of questions and Atsumu just nodded.

“All’s good. I’m getting a headache though, but I think that’s inevitable after getting spiked that hard. Otherwise, I’m a-okay.” He even gestured the “Ok”-sign with his fingers as he grinned a little.

“Good. Tell me if anything changes though. We don’t wanna risk anything.”

“Mn.”

Atsumu watched as you got a little something from your suitcase. When you came back to the futon, he realized it was a small emergency pouch.

“Always prepared, huh?”, he teased you and you just playfully slapped his arm with the back of your hand.

“Good thing I am always prepared for something to go wrong, huh? Ever since we were little, ya would get into a fight with Samu or do something else stupid and hurt yourself.”

Now that it seemed he was okay, Atsumu was happy to see you were visibly more relaxed and teased him back.

“I know. Thanks for always being prepared and helping me out.”, he earnestly said.

“It’s okay… I guess that’s my cross to bear being friends with two hotheaded idiot twins.”, you dramatically sighed and in the end, you both chuckled before you properly tended to the wound on his lip.

For a few moments, he was quiet as you dabbed disinfectant solution on his lip and cleaned the small cut. Then he said, “Thank you, though. Not only for that, but also for standing up for me against Samu.”

“Eh, I wouldn’t call it “standing up” per se, he just said something stupid that was totally unnecessary in that situation, but yeah. No problem.”, you smiled at him so cutely he seriously couldn’t help himself anymore.

Thus, he interrupted your cleaning and leaned forward, kissing you fully on your lips, even if his stung a little. Sadly, you pulled back almost immediately. However, not because, as he believed, you were uncomfortable, rather because you were worried.

“Oii ya dummy, doesn’t that hurt??”

“Mnnn…”, he playfully tilted his head back and forth to ‘think’, though then he grinned, “A little. But it’s fine, I wanna kiss yer fully or … do ya hate it…?”

“Well it did feel a little weird and the disinfectant’s kinda gross…”, you got a little quieter at the end and before he could even say something, you had already cupped the cheek that was spared from the spike and leaned in for another kiss.

Atsumu was confused at first when he felt your touch, but the second your soft lips brushed against his, he was smitten. Reaching out to cup your own cheek, he pulled you in closer. He didn’t care about the slight burn, all he felt was that twinge in his stomach he always got when his feelings for you were about to explode. Seriously, he was just so happy, despite getting spiked in the face.

When he pulled back, Atsumu couldn’t contain his stupid happy grin. Though you just sighed and playfully shook your head with an eye roll, before you got back to treating his small wounds.

“So, do yer wanna take a shower to get all the sand off and then lie down?”, you asked while you put away your emergency pouch again.

“Mnnn maybe. My head’s kinda hurting and sleep would probably fix it but I dunno, I don’t wanna stay inside. You?”

“Yeah, I mean it’s such a nice day, but I mean, ya should probably really rest up after that hit. I honestly think I’ll just do my nails if I already have the time. They do be looking a little ugly because of all the exam stress. And I did bring my polish and stuff… Mhnn…”

He watched as you inspected your nails that were usually painted, though now most of the polish had flaked off. Atsumu knew, because it was an open secret he loved looking at you, so of course he also noticed the little details. Besides, he absolutely loved it when you had freshly painted nails, because it just looked so good with your hand wrapped around his co-

“So? What d’ya think? Wanna join me outside for a painting session or wanna stay here and rest up until the others come back from their hike?”, you interrupted his naughty thoughts and he immediately got bashful, as if you had just caught him in a very risqué situation.

Coughing a little, he tried to calm down again and then looked up to meet your eyes.

“Yeah I’ll join ya. Just gimme 10 minutes and I’m ready.”

15 minutes later, you and Atsumu sat down at one of the benches the Ryokan offered as a form of relaxation. He sat across from you, watching as you put your nail polish and other things onto the table.

“Ya know… I’m actually happy that happened.”

“Excuseee me, (Y/n)?”, he dramatically exclaimed and faked a shocking expression.

“No!”, you laughed and softly kicked his shin, “I didn’t mean it like that. I wish ya didn’t have to get injured for that. But ya know… getting away from Mia and Samu, just... having a little time to breath and think. I feel like everything that happened in the last like two months is insane and happened in such rapid succession. I mean, them…then the thing we’ve got going on, final exams, this trip. Like it’s crazy how quickly time flies, really.”

With his head leaning on his arms that rested on the table, he could only nod and grumble in approval. A lot did happen in such a short amount of time, but, his goal was still clear: Make you fall in love with him and forget his brother. No matter how long it took or how much he would get hurt in the process, if you would confidently and with all your heart choose him over Samu one day, he could die happy. And if one day, you chose someone else as your partner, he would stop trying, but until that day, Atsumu was not ready to give up.

“All good? The stank of the acetone is not too bad?”

The way you worriedly asked him was just adorable. He shook his head with a happy little smile adorning his lips, “Everything’s fine.”, and then he continued to watch as you removed the old polish and prepped your nails.

Honestly, as he watched you file and shape your nails, he wondered if you would do it to him as well. More jokingly than anything, Atsumu then reached out his hand and shook it a little as he asked with an amused undertone, “Can ya do mine, too?”

For a second, you seemed confused, which was to be expected, but he didn’t think you would euphorically take his hand and nod in excitement.

“Hell yeah. Ya know, my secret dream was always to become a nail tech, if uni or something didn’t work out that was like my backup plan, so I’d actually love to do that. Can I paint them too?”

You looked up with a sparkle in your beautiful eyes – that’s when he knew he could never possibly say no to that.

“Sure, I mean I asked and a little bit of polish doesn’t hurt.”

“Awesome. I did bring my forest green polish with me ‘cuz I thought it’d matched with the vibes around the Ryokan pretty well. It does have some sparkle to it though…”

“I don’t mind, gimme.”

Quite honestly, watching you smile and be so happy about this, truly made him the happiest. After all the shit you went through over the last weeks, seeing you ecstatic like that warmed his heart. If he knew he could make you happy just by offering to get his nails painted by you, he would have done that sooner. And to top it off, he could feel your touch as you held his hand and worked on it, so this was truly a win-win situation for him.

“Ya know, I always thought you had pretty hands before, but looking at them this closely… yer really taking good care of them, damn.”, you giggled as you got to work.

“Yer thought my hands were pretty?”, he teased you instantly, because if not, you might have heard how his inner self was kicking his feet and screaming like a little girl because of that simple statement.

Safe to say, you immediately got shy and grumbled, “Kinda…”

“Geez why did ya have to make this weird now?” And his punishment quickly followed when you pinched between his thumb and pointer finger.

“Ow, ow, ow! I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just happy.”, he chuckled and whined at the same time.

Why were you so fricking adorable all the time?! You would be the death of him one day.

“Yer so cute…” Atsumu didn’t even realize at first that he hadn’t just thought this, he had also mumbled it. And he only realized that when you kicked his shin again and embarrassingly whined, “Shut up, seriously! No one thinks that besides you, yer so weird!”

But, of course, you had to go ahead and grumble so cutely; though it was surely almost over for him when you looked through your eyelashes all ‘angry’ and then back to his nails again with a little pouty “Hm!”.

Atsumu was so happy, he miserably failed at hiding his stupid happy grin, hence why he buried his face in his still resting arm. The slight stinging and burning of his wounds was the only thing that confirmed that he wasn’t dreaming. He knew you had gotten closer, but witnessing it like that in every interaction you two had, made him so giddy - like a little kid who got a basket full of candy each day. Even if you weren’t a couple (yet) and even if he had to wait many months more, just knowing the relationship you once had as best friends was almost back to where it was, still felt like a big accomplishment to him. Because, despite wanting to touch you, kiss you and just shower you with love, getting back to just doing stupid shit and laughing with you, teasing each other and playfully bicker; all that was also something he had missed a ton.

“I’m so glad we got closer again.” Atsumu said quietly with a blissful smile on his lips.

For a second, you stopped and he felt your eyes on him, hence he looked up and smiled directly at you. When you returned the gestured and smiled at him as well, his heart did a small jump.

“Yeah, me too. I truly forgot how much fun we used to have. I wish I would have never realized my feelings for him, then maybe… we could have stayed that way forever. I got so awkward with Samu and I definitely hurt our friendship with that, too…” You suddenly stopped working on his hand and he realized your glazed eyes once he looked up. “Haha sorry, uhm …”, you fanned yourself, hoping not to start crying.

“I’m sorry Tsumu, really.”, you said with a quiver in your voice, “For how I treated ya. It’s really okay if you actually hate me.”

Quickly, he jumped up, completely ignoring his headache at this point, and rushed around the table to hug you, almost knocking you off the bench due to his force. Thus, you could only hold onto him and accept the tight embrace.

“’s fine. Yer apologize so often and I already told ya it’s okay. I would never hate you, you idiot! Besides…”, he pulled back a little and gently wiped away your tears, “I was never mad or anything, just sad we had this rift between us. So yah… it’s okay now. Really.”

You looked at him for a second, before he had to hold back a small chuckle when you buried your face in his t-shirt again.

“Thank you. And sorry I got emotional. Our friendship has taken such a weird turn, I… sometimes still don’t know what to think of it. And I’m scared yer gonna use it to take revenge on me for how shitty I’ve treated you as my friend.”

“(Y/n), I… would never. Do ya seriously think so low of me?”, he whispered and hugged you almost a little painfully tight.

“Then… can you tell me the real reason… Why you asked me that time to sleep with you? Why you wanted us to start pretend dating?”

When you looked up to meet his eyes, it took his breath away, but not in a nice sort of way. Because, truthfully, he was a little too stunned to speak. There was no way in hell he could tell you the truth yet. The thought that he might like you, probably never even crossed your mind. Heck, he just found out you basically thought he still hated you secretly.

“I…It’s uhm…”, he stumbled over his words and quickly avoided eye contact, “It’s a little complicated… But I told yer before, right?” Atsumu grabbed your cute, chubby cheeks and kissed you, not caring that any minute his aunt or your friends could come around the corner and see you two. “I already told ya I didn’t ask out of pity or anything, I… just want to help yer get over Samu. Even if it’s a weird way to do that.”

Tsumu couldn’t even take his own lie seriously, but somehow, you seemed okay with that and just nodded. Tough he wished he could read your mind, he couldn’t look into that beautiful little head of your and so, the setter was just happy you accepted his horrible lie. Instead, he squeezed your soft body and snuggled you, simply content that you even allowed him to do that, because a few weeks ago that would have been impossible.

However, as beautiful and intimate that moment felt, it was soon destroyed by a voice that made him gag, “We are baa-AAAACK!?”

It sounded sweet at first and then quickly turned into shock when she saw you two in this tight embrace. Honestly, Mia’s reaction was quite funny, but Atsumu was bracing himself for your inevitable shove, however… it… didn’t come? Instead, you lowered your arms without any haste and then wiped away your tears.

“Ahw no, everything okay, Senpai?”, Ruka was genuinely worried when she was your tears.

“Yeah. Tsumu and I just reconciled and I got a little emotional.”, you smiled and somehow, the boys had a relieved kind of look on their face. Well, they had witnessed your relationship with Atsumu decline over the years, so they were probably just happy for him.

“Soo what were you two doing, hm? Miya-kun, are you sure you’re okay? Shouldn’t you rest up, hm?”, Mia gave herself air and he seriously couldn’t stand it.

“Aahhh damn it, I wanted to do my nails before y’all got back!”, you then exclaimed all of a sudden and Atsumu, who had just fobbed her off with a “Yeah, yeah ‘s fine.”, added, “And mine!”

“Y’all were doing nails?”, Ruka immediately dashed to the table, “Me too, me too.”

You had let go of him again, which was a little sad, but he resisted the urge to go too far and accepted it. Instead, he sat down beside you on the bench while everyone else also came over.

“Can I see the color?”, Rin asked and you immediately gave the polish to him.

“Ya said yer bf’s a nail tech, right? I’m so jealous, imagine yer lover can get yer nails done for ya, I’d love that.”, you giggled and Suna just blushed a little and sat down on the bench opposite of you and Atsumu.

“Yah, he always wants to do something on mine but I just don’t really like the feeling of something on my nails, so yeah… He gets pretty disappointed at times.”, he chuckled and quickly, the conversation had once again reached a nice flow when Aran started talking about his fiancée’s nail, which then turned into Kita telling his story about how he had to maintain his grandma’s nails because she couldn’t properly clip and file them herself without her wrists and fingers aching afterwards.

So, this small insignificant thing turned into a whole conversation and Atsumu completely forgot to ask why they were already here (didn’t they want to walk around the village and hike up the mountain or something?) and instead, he enjoyed the atmosphere. Hanging around with his friends after such a long time truly was just really a joyous experience. Besides, watching Mia out of the corner of his eyes, struggling to fit in and contribute to the conversation was hilarious to him.

That’s what she got for imposing on your trip!

“Sooo.. what happened to the hike? Already had a tour through the village?”, you then asked once the conversation had calmed down again.

“Well you see-“

“Osamu-kun and I were pretty worried about Miya-kun, so I said I wanted to get back and check on you. Right?”, Mia interrupted Omimi rudely and then turned to her boyfriend for support.

It’s only been the second day, but Atsumu could feel the tension between everyone else and Mia and it certainly got worse every time she opened her mouth.

“Yah, I didn’t mean to spike it so hard, sorry bro.” Osamu reached out his hand and ruffled his twin’s hair.

“Mnn, it’s fine.”

Atsumu shooed his hand away and then frowned.

“Honestly, my head’s kinda killing me so… I might get inside and get some rest if that’s okay with y’all?”

Everyone nodded with a sound of approval, though before he could stand up, he felt your hand on his that stopped him for another second.

“Ya feel dizzy too? Lightheaded?”

He inwardly squeed and felt a heart-squeeze. He loved you so much, he just wanted to scream it from the rooftops for fuck’s sake! Ugh!

“Yah a little maybe, can ya help me? Or I might hit my head again.”

And he totally milked it, but when he saw the little glint in your eyes, he knew you probably weren’t too disappointed.

“Sure. Just a sec.”

“Maybe yer should tell yer aunt and get it checked out though?”, Aran suggested, however, Atsumu quickly waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.

“Naaahh. If it gets worse in a few hours I’ll think about it. For now, I’ll just rest until lunch and it should be perfectly fine.”

“Well, if ya say so…”, Akagi begrudgingly said with a worried face and everyone else seemed to be a little worried about it as well. Though Atsumu assured them that everything was fine if he would just get some rest, besides…

“I’ll have (Y/n) in the room with me if anything were to happen, so ‘s gonna be fine.”

With that, Atsumu didn’t want to hear any more and they understood, but of course, one person didn’t really get the hint that it was enough.

“Are you sure (Y/n)-chan can help you? What if you really have a concussion and you have to vomit or something? Or you get a seizure?”

“Don’t worry Mia, the only person who could get through to this stubborn idiot then would be (Y/n) anyways.”, Osamu tried to calm down his girlfriend. He was either really oblivious and naïve or straight up dumb, because even Atsumu found it ridiculous at this point how “worried” Mia was about him.

“But-“

“’s fine.”, he repeated and interrupted her. Atsumu looked down on her as he stood up, enjoying it just slightly how she flinched under his unamused gaze, “Like Samu said: All I need is (Y/n) anyways if anything were to happen.”

“Oh my God, yer so fucking dramatic Tsumu. Shut up and come on, I thought ya needed rest?”, you walked past him and playfully “angrily” slapped his shoulder (to mask your shyness possibly?).

In the corner of his eye, he only saw Ruka and the guys exchanging a look that said “Daaaayum”, before he followed you. Or rather, you had waited for him and then went alongside him to make sure he wouldn’t suddenly really get sick or anything.

Successfully, you and Tsumu snuck past his aunt, so again, she wouldn’t get worried seeing his little injury. Thus, once you reached your room for the week, you sighed a little and put your nail polish back into your little bag. He did feel a little guilty you couldn’t paint your nails.

“Sorry, let’s do ‘em tonight if the weather allows it?”

“Ah yeah, no problem. It was unfortunate timing. But damn, ya ran away from Mia again, even though sHe WaS sO wOrRiEd AbOuT yOu.”, you mocked her and then laughed when you looked up and saw his face that also displayed pure annoyance.

“She should worry about her own damn boyfriend and leave me the fuck alone.”, he mumbled and suddenly plopped down behind you.

“Nehh?”, he hugged your plush form and whispered, “Let’s rest together, yeah?”

You looked behind you and were confronted with his puppy eyes, which, with the blue bruise on his cheek and the injured lip, were even more effective (he hoped at least). For a moment, he watched your internal struggle, before you just sighed and nodded.

“Fine. Let’s rest together, but this time sir – no touching or anything, yer just gonna rest for real, capiche?”

“Aye, aye ma’am.”

You looked at each other for a moment, before you both inevitably had to laugh.

Yeah.

He loved that.

The mood was just great.

Atsumu knew he had never been closer to you before in his life than in that point in time. And no Mia or someone else was going to get between you and him, not after he had finally closed that rift again after so long.

Whatever happened from now on, he just felt it everywhere in his body, his soul and heart: He got so much closer to his goal and he was not accepting any setbacks anymore.

-----------------------

next part (XVII) >> || masterlist

all characters canonically under 18 are always aged up in explicit nsfw situations ; english is not my native language so i apologize for any mistakes

Tag List: (🥺💕)

@kelly-fushiguro345

#miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu scenario #plus size reader #chubby reader

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hatsukeii · 4 months ago

Text

fragrance: when the rain stops, replica / timeskip!hinata shoyou x reader

notes: aquatic accord (top), isparta rose (heart), patchouli (base)

description: the sudden end to a rainy season, a first glimpse of sunlight from the clouds

disclaimer(s): weak sillage, requires frequent reapplication

wc: 1152

warning(s): nothing!! safe!! very safe for all!! gn reader!!

author's note 1: this is actually a continuation/prequel of another fic i read! i've reblogged it on here, so go to the end of this fic to find out who wrote it...;p

"Raining in Japan? Again?" Hinata's voice rings through your earphones, his face pixelated and blurry on the weak connection of your phone as you scrub at dishes and cups. The tap splashes, water sloshing and dripping from your hands as you smile sadly. The house smells of dish soap and traces of wet leaves from the trees outside, pummeled by relentless droplets of rain that pass on from tapping at your windows.

"Yeah, has been like this since you left, Sho." You glance at the phone momentarily, squeezing a wet sponge. For the two years of Hinata's departure, the spring has been weeping in daily showers and drizzles, clouds disintegrating into curtains of rain. The water bills sitting on the dining table behind you have gone down by a landslide since he's been gone, both from the lack of dishes that sit in the sink, waiting to be washed, and the sudden disappearance of an extra shower in the night, one that ends in a mess of wet, orange hair beneath your hands and between your fingers as you run through the strands, a hair dryer in hand. Through the phone, his skin looks tanner, yet the sun that reflects from his skin paints patches of white and gold on his face, a pair of sports sunglasses pushed up into his hair.

"Looks like Brazil has been a good time though, good weather?"

He gleams at the comment, crows feet emerging on the skin of his eyebags, and his smile is brighter than the sun that illuminates him.

"Yeah, good time and good weather. Would be much, much better if you were here though!" He holds the phone up, and his entire beach volleyball team is behind him, tall and towering over his relatively smaller figure who rolls a suitcase as he walks ahead. "Say hi to the teammates!" The men glance up and wave enthusiastically through the blurry videocall. Ah, Brazilians, always so kind. You smile, flicking your hands into the sink, before returning a small peace sign from above your head. From the two years of daily videocalls, snuck into walks from the beach to the dorms, or stolen from dinner parties and gatherings on lonely rooftops, you've come to know the names and faces of each teammate, and your heart takes a hit of guilt knowing they must have enjoyed Hinata's presence for the two years.

"I wish I were there too, Sho, or that you were here."

He smiles, pulling the phone back to himself. He would do anything to have you in Brazil with him, but he won't need to. Not when he's standing in front of Sao Paulo Airport, luggage and bags in hand as his teammates get ready to crowd around him for farewell embraces and manly kisses on the cheek. He'll miss his teammates, sure, but he's missed you much more than he could ever miss anyone else.

"Well, I'll be back in another twenty hours or so, and that's already twenty-something hours too many. Just got to the airport, but God, I just want to be with you, right now. I'll talk to you soon, 'kay? Love you."

"You're on your way, we'll be together soon, Sho. Love you too, I'll see you soon." The call cuts off, and what remain are soap suds in the sink, water bills on the dining table, and the never-ending drumming of rain on your windows. There are no stars in the sky, the moon too tired to crawl through the blue-grey clouds, the ones that let loose the water that makes them up for weeks on end, and years on end. You retreat from the kitchen, and into the bedroom, crawling into the comfort of your down quilt as you lie on your side, and stare at the empty dip of the mattress beside your own. The rain cries out now, bouts of lightning flashing periodically, followed by the booming of thunder, and you wonder if something will happen. What if the flight gets delayed, because of the stupid weather? What about turbulence? Hinata has always hated turbulence, ever since the senior grad trip the Karasuno volleyball team took to Brazil, the trip where he had to cling onto your arm for stability as the aircraft rumbled and bumped, battling with winds from all directions. What if the airplane goes through that again, and he has no one to hold on to this time?

You shake your head, ridding your mind of the endless possibilities, and swap your pillow with his. Your face presses into the fresh pillowcase, taking a sniff. His cologne has worn off, to your disappointment, only the faint traces of patchouli and fresh earth remaining beneath the guise of detergent, and you sigh, reminding yourself that he will be here, just in another day. And as you fall asleep, face half pressed into the pillow, your mind searches for the forgotten fragments of his fading cologne.

The next day rolls by like a script. The rain drizzles and pours again, and your lonely laundry tumbles and turns in the washing machine, dull beeps and clicks interrupting the nervous tapping of your feet at the ground as you wait for the turn of a key. The TV drones on in reports of another rainy day, trailers for shows and movies you've been waiting to watch with Hinata, the occasional time announcement that ticks at your brain like a time bomb, waiting to go off. Dishes from breakfast and lunch pile in the sink, sitting lifelessly as they wait for someone to scrub them beneath water and soap. The washing machine plays its little jingle when the clothes finish, and you drag yourself from the couch, pulling out a laundry basket to shove them into. Pulling open the door to the machine, the lock of the front door turns.

For the two years that Hinata is away from Japan, the springtimes weep in endless drizzling for weeks and weeks on end, and the summers cry out flurries of rain and lightning. The trees on the walks home catch onto stray droplets, sagging beneath the weight of water, rainboots and umbrellas becoming every day essentials for most of the year. Weather forecasters laugh and joke about the lack of sunlight, cue cards in hand in front of a LED screen, but the gloom evidently weighs down their eyes and dims their smiles with each passing week of rain and storm.

Yet the moment Hinata pushes open the front door, his luggage and bags of souvenirs and equipment thrown onto the wet ground carelessly, the drizzling and tapping of water on pavement and glass gradually silences. And when he lunges forward, holding you tight against his chest like a man robbed of his heart and soul, the forgotten notes of rose petals and crisp water flood your nose, and the clouds part for the sun to come home.

author's note 2:

@kuroppiii HEY BBG THANK YOU SM FOR YOUR BRAZIL HINATA FIC BECAUSE IT ACC JUST FILLED ME W SO MUCH INSPO

for anyone who read this please please PLEASE go check out the og one from @kuroppiii!! this is supposed to be a prequel/continuation of what they wrote and might make both reads just thiiiiiiis much more fleshed out!!! please give them love because i sure loved their work smsmsmsmsmmmmm

and also brazil hinata needs to save me ngl i love him..

tags!!

@chuuya-brainrot @fiannee @starlysama @afyrian @catsoupki @bailey-reeds @iiwaijime

ok love u guys see u in the next one bye bye

#hinata x reader #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shouyou #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hinata #hinata fluff #hq hinata #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyuu time skip #timeskip hinata shoyo #hq timeskip #hq imagines #i love hinata ngl like timeskip hinata is so powerful GUYS HEAR ME OUT

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kodaiki · 2 years ago

Text

mistletoe mayhem.

summary: christmas traditions are always a joy to celebrate. you genuinely love making the gingerbread houses, seeing the christmas lights, and putting up all the holiday decorations. but why the hell are there so many mistletoe hanging from your friends' apartment?

pairing: fem!reader x bokuto kotaro

genre: friends (idiots) to lovers, christmas!theme, mutual pining, fluff

wc: 3k

a/n: totally forgot to repost this closer to the holidays but here you go!! hasn't been edited since 2020 so beware <333

“thanks for helping out,” hinata grins when he opens the front door of his apartment. his smile says, ‘welcome! come on in!’ but his eyes, wide and...is that fatigue? say ‘PLEASE, heLP.’

“please, even with four of you living here, I knew you’d need extra help,” you chuckle, stepping inside and slipping off your shoes. you shiver slightly as hinata closes the door behind you, allowing a gust of wind finds its way back to your already cold cheeks. you loved seeing snow on the ground around the holidays, but it’s moments when you have to travel in it that you lightly regret the wish for it.

amongst your friends, an annual holiday party always occurred as a big get-together to catch up with one another. this year it just so happens to be at four of your friends’ shared place. the msby resident dummies + sakusa’s place, as others liked to call it. you’d frown upon it but the fact that the three designated dummies announce themselves as that let you know that they’re not hurt by it. (sakusa’s quite pleased that whoever came up with the nickname made a point to exclude him from the trio.)

sheepishly smiling, hinata nods in agreement. “you’re probably right.”

“where’s everyone?” you ask over your shoulder while hanging your coat in the closet.

you’re so used to the other boys acting like dogs at the sound of the front door opening, running at you in anticipation. now that you think about it, bokuto did tackle you to the ground (accidentally) at one point. right now, a rough hour before the party of the year, everyone seemed to be focused on getting all the preparations ready.

“atsumu’s on a call with osamu about food, sakusa is cleaning the bathroom...again, and bokuto should be -”

“y/n! y-you’re here already!” he’s tripping over himself as he runs out from a room, tugging a shirt over his head to look the least bit presentable.

you turn around at the voice, a smile already making its way on your face. “’course I am!” he meets you halfway in a bone-crushing hug.

“i missed ya,” bokuto murmurs into the crook of your neck, shutting his eyes.

“it’s only been a few weeks,” you laugh, lightly rubbing his back comfortingly.

“two weeks is a long time.”

“well,” you muse, lifting your hand to pinch his cheek lovingly, “i’m here now.”

he visibly relaxes and slightly leans into your touch before abruptly stiffening. you don’t notice that his eyes are trained on hinata’s who’s looking at him, making kissy faces. he quickly reaches for your shoulders to pull himself back and hold you at arms length, sheepishly smiling at your look of concern. “u-uhm, i should go! ... y’know, get back to hanging the banners...”

before you could ask if any aid from you was needed, he’s already walking away from you backwards, jabbing his thumb in a direction behind him. you simply nod blankly, suppressing the slight frown that’s itching to spread on your face from how quickly he pushed himself off of you.

“so,” you turn back to hinata who’s smiling knowingly for a reason you don’t quite know. “where do i start?”

“you can come with me to help ‘tsumu in the kitchen! unless you wanna help bokuto-”

“all good here!” bokuto’s voice is an echo from an unknown part of the house and you feel your heart sink slightly. okay then.

shaking your head, brushing off the feeling, you face hinata. “wait, did you say atsumu?” you deadpan, “in the kitchen?”

“dont worry~” hinata smiles lazily, waving his hand, “osamu is telling him what to do.”

you nod and follow behind him, occasionally snickering at some of the photos hung on the walls. they weren’t the traditional photos where the boys would pose nicely beside one another. no, they were mostly from different angles, embarrassing poses and the frames had been vandalized decorated with different colored sharpies.

as you approach the kitchen, a familiar green plant hanging from the arched doorway makes your steps slow and you take a moment to ponder it.

“huh,” you look up in wonder, “i thought it was a tradition to have one mistletoe?” your eyebrows slightly furrow and you instinctively turn your head back to where the front door was. a sparkling mistletoe hung just above the space where shoes go, directly beside where the coat rack stood.

hinata hums in agreement. “yeah, it is.”

“then why have i seen two so far?”

“wh-what?”

“there’s one by the front door and now here.”

lifting a curious brow, he follows the direction you’re pointing in to take a look for himself. “i’m pretty sure we bought only one...” hinata trails off, scratching his temple in thought. he shrugs after a few seconds and carries on walking to the kitchen, ready to greet atsumu with a grin. he’s standing in front of the stove with a phone tucked in the space between his ear and right shoulder.

“look who’s here!” hinata shakes you by the shoulders in glee.

atsumu turns around and you notice his furrowed brows soften as a smile stretches across his face. “’samu, give me a sec,” he speaks into his phone before straightening his neck. “y/n!”

you smile back, returning the hug the bigger man engulfed you in. following your greetings and a brief casual conversation, you can hear osamu grow impatient over the phone. he’d been on his break at his onigiri shop and his twin stalling his free time was not the way he wanted to spend his time. only did his tone lighten when you greeted him through the receiver.

“right,” atsumu snaps his fingers as if just remembering he’d been on the phone with his brother, “ok, ‘samu go on.”

the three of you continue working in the kitchen, where atsumu attempts to make the main course while you and hinata arrange several appetizer plates.

“you know bo is going to finish these before anyone shows up, right?” you raise a knowing brow, lifting a toothpick with some cheese stuck on the end of it.

“yeah,” hinata admits, “that’s why we’re making double the amount. we’re hiding the other plates in the fridge,”

“ah,” you nod. “good thinking.”

“i heard my name!”

bokuto’s head pops out from behind the doorway leading to the kitchen, looking between the three of you owlishly. he’s about to ask what exactly you’re talking about when his eyes fall on the plate in front of you. “ooh, cheese!” he shuffles over and grabs three toothpicks and shoves the cheese in his mouth with a satisfied smile.

you and hinata share a pointed look.

“are the banners ready?” hinata asks after watching bokuto eat four more cheese-sticks.

“mhm,” he hums with a proud, toothless smile. “all done.”

“great, well, we’re just waiting on ‘tsumu and then that’s it,” hinata smiles in relief. the party was to start in a half hour or so, so to be on time with setting up was considered an achievement for the orange haired boy.

two hours later, you’re caught between conversations with different people, some you’ve met before and some new faces you’ve only heard the name of in a conversation. (you finally met the famous kageyama and plan to matchmake him and hinata by the end of the night ;D)

on your way to refill your glass, a familiar mop of disarray hair peaks your attention.

“kuroo, hey!”

“y/n~” kuroo greets with a lazy smile, lightly patting your head. “how’ve you been?”

“eh, you know how it is. good days and bad days,” you shrug with a dismissive smile.

“definitely know what you’re saying,” he huffs with a nod.

“how’s the office?”

you met kuroo at the holiday party a year ago through bokuto. you remember how excited he was, putting kuroo in a near choke-hold just so you could meet one of his very best friends. (you glance over at akaashi when he says this and he simply nods giving you a clear look saying, ‘i’m the other best friend.’)

“doing well, lots of paperwork though,” he says before catching sight of something behind you. before you can take a look for yourself, he asks, “hey, you’re over at the boys’ place often, right?”

quirking an eyebrow at his inquiry, you nod unsurely, “i guess? bo invites me to movies night pretty often so i tend to visit a lot.”

“he does, does he? now, may i ask, do you know that-”

“y/n!” bokuto appears beside you, lightly grasping your elbow, bringing you out of your conversation with kuroo.

kuroo smiles wickedly at bokuto whose cheeks are flushed from embarrassment, already knowing where kuroo was going with his question. fortunate for him, you just think it’s from the alcohol.

“hey bokuto.”

“kuroo,” bokuto’s head quickly whips toward the tall man in front of you, “i think kenma’s calling for you.”

raising his hands in surrender, kuroo sighs, “ok, ok. i guess i’ll just go...and find kenma.”

“mhm, yes you should,” bokuto nods vigorously. kuroo gives him a final look and you’re sure they’re having some sort of mental conversation because neither of them look away until kuroo smiles and turns away.

“are you guys okay?” you ask when kuroo leaves. “that was kinda weird.”

“we’re fine!” bokuto grins, gently guiding you throughout the house. “so tell me, updates?”

“updates?” you repeat, knitting your brows together.

“since i last saw you! work, home, i don’t know.” he’s rubbing the back of his neck by the end of his statement. cogs start turning in your head but you’re still unable to put your finger on why everything seems so suspicious lately; hinata’s knowing smiles, bokuto’s obvious nervousness (?), kuroo’s smirk which is more mischievous than usual, what could it all mean?

“oh, well ah, not much? i caught up on that show i was telling you about,” you shrug, “besides that, life’s been pretty boring.”

as you speak, he’s still walking with you, occasionally stopping to look around nonchalantly.

yeah, you’re definitely missing something.

“hm” he hums in acknowledgement, shoving his hands into his pockets and begins lightly rocking on his heels. what’s the point in asking if you’re not even paying attention?

“bo, are you o-”

“huh, that’s funny,” bokuto cuts you off, pointing up toward the ceiling, “mistletoe.”

you freeze, eyes slowly trailing up to the ceiling where, yes, a nicely hung mistletoe was, adorned with pretty red ribbon.

but...

you’re standing in a spot you and hinata passed earlier and where there was no mistletoe hung then.

hold on a second.

your eyes squint as you look back down at bokuto and analyze his sheepish grin and red ears. “uh-huh. strange, don’t you think?”

“strange?” his eyes grow in wonder. “why strange?”

“because i could’ve sworn it wasn’t there when i walked in...”

“hmmm, that is strange,” bokuto quickly agrees, rubbing his chin. “maybe ‘tsumu is trying to get some or somethi-”

“-alright mister, fess up. i know it’s you who’s putting up all the mistletoe,” you challenge, raising an eyebrow.

that had to be it, right?

you recall the numerous other times bokuto stopped in the house and you can bet that if you look back, there’d be mistletoe hung somewhere around you.

“wh-what? no, it’s not!” the blush that travels from his ears to his cheeks is enough confirmation.

you cross your arms, giving a pointed expression. after a moment of the two of you staring at each other, he slouches.

“yeah, it was me. i just...i didn’t know how to...so it’d be easier...and then..yeah.”

“you put up all that mistletoe and intended on staying with me for the entirety of the party and the eventually, inevitably, be under the mistletoe together...right?”

he pouts but nods, “...yeah.”

you’d known bokuto for almost two years now now but recently – well, the past few visits, at least – you’ve noticed something slightly off. when you sit beside him on the couch, he’s unnaturally stiff and more aware of his positions.

whereas two months ago, this guy would be totally comfortable draping his legs over yours or laying his head in your lap innocently, now even a slight brush of limbs gets him red and apologetic so quickly.

you weren’t sure if you’d done something wrong or he was going through something but to have that level of intimacy, albeit you were just friends, just end so quickly hurt.

you contemplated the reason for frequently yet you could never come to an answer because even though alone, he was more distanced and to himself, he could also be the same bokuto you met months ago. his hugs stayed warm, his smiles stayed bright, and his words stayed true.

but watching him shuffle his feet, staring down at the floor so you could only see his red ears, it all seems to click.

there’s another beat of silence between the two of you.

“y’know, if you just wanted to kiss me, you coulda just asked,” you mumble, feeling a blush of your own paint your cheeks.

“i wanted to be smooth.”

the utter seriousness of his voice makes you laugh and he finally looks up at you.

“your smoothness isn’t going to change how i feel about you.”

his head bobs up to face you again. “it isn’t?”

boldly, you take a step closer to him and you voice falls to a whisper. “no.”

you hear his breath hitch in his throat and your own heart begins to race. thank goodness bokuto decided to mention the mistletoe in a spot no one was around in because if you had an audience right now, you’d simply die from the embarrassment of being teased and hollered at.

he closes the gap between the two of you, pressing his lips to yours for a quick peck. just as quickly as your lips meet, they pull away. bokuto’s entire face has gone red at this point and he’s staring into your eyes with a rather worried expression.

but after seeing the small smile grow on your face and your own flushed cheeks, a large grin appears and he leans in, this time with more fervor. he holds your face with big hands, bringing you closer so you’re snug against his torso. he leans the two of you slightly forward so he’s holding you up and the only thing keeping you from falling is your firm grip on his dress shirt, which was once nicely steamed. yep, creases were definitely to be shown after this.

it’d be a lie if you said you never thought of your friend in a romantic light.

especially when he traps you in between his beefy arms in a hug. especially when he allows you to talk his ear off to your heart’s content. especially when he brings you snacks and movies during your time of the month.

hell, how could you not notice you were treating bokuto like your boyfriend already?

“okay, bo, i get it,” you giggle as he peppers kisses on every inch of your face.

“can’t. stop. need. to. make. up. for. lost. time.” he leans away at the last word, bringing you back to your feet. the blush on his face is slightly faded, his nerves obviously dissipated, but his grin remains the widest you’ve ever seen. lifting a hand, he lightly caresses your cheek.

“you don’t know how much i’ve wanted to do that,” he murmurs, blinking slowly.

“what took you so long then?” your voice is soft as you lean your cheek further into his palm. funny that now you were the one blushing like a tomato.

“i...i didn’t want to mess up anything we had.”

you understand his reasoning. the two of you did meet through akaashi, your coworker in your workplace, and your relationship began as strictly platonic. while bokuto didn’t have time to date, you simply weren’t ready for a relationship.

the two of you grew closer soon after your meeting until you eventually became a core part of bokuto’s life.

you don’t remember exactly when your feelings for him blossomed but you’re definitely aware of them now.

“this means you like me too, right?” he pauses and freezes in place.

rolling your eyes, you tilt you head. “yes, dummy.”

he leans in again to peck your lips once more before you stop him.

“wait...how many mistletoe did you hang up around the house throughout the night?”

bokuto lets out a nervous chuckle, looking down. looking back up, he sheepishly smiles, “twelve?”

“twelve!?” you repeat, widening your eyes.

“kuroo said the more opportunities, the better!” he defends with a whine.

“ah, kuroo was a part of this plan?” you muse, raising an eyebrow. now the suspicious behavior between the two of them made sense.

“he gave me the idea,” he mumbles, “and he said he’d tell you if i didn’t hurry up and kiss you already...gotta thank him, though.”

“guess we do,” you smile, running your hands along his chest in attempt to flatten out wrinkle marks on his dress shirt. you sigh when it does no help.

you don’t notice the way his lips twitch up in amusement at your slight frustration. “it’s fine. it was bound get messed up at some point. whether it be a salsa stain or wrinkles.”

you laugh, looking back up at him.

“so,” he steps away from you, offering his hand for you to hold. “shall we?”

“shall we what?” you ask, cautiously taking his hand.

“make our debut as cutest couple, of course,” he grins with a wink, “oh! and to kiss you under all the other mistletoe. i didn’t spend all that money to not put it to use.”

“dork,” you mumble but allow him to guide you through the house, only this time shouting, ‘this is my girlfriend now!’ at every face he passes.

(cue you blushing at the knowing wink kuroo sends you and the thumbs up akaashi sends.)

but hey, throughout all this mistletoe madness, you snagged a boyfriend you know will shower you in all the love and affection you could ever desire.

261 notes · View notes

yutasbimil · 2 years ago

Text

Frisky

kenma x fem!oc | haikyuu ff. (time-skip!older kenma) ✦ (3/~) [series fic] !!! also posted on my ao3 acc! { here } tags: fluff, slight angst (not really), smut cw: nsfw minors dni, minor plot, fingering, oral, teasing, established relationship, kinky, orgasm denial, quickie, public sex, fingering, edging, swallowing, exhibitionism(?) HELP THIS IS NEW TO ME ACK, interrupted lol, FLUFF!!! D; note: not that comfy w/ 2nd POV, tho no specific characteristics are mentioned on the fem!oc so pls feel free to imagine as y/n or YOU ♡ word count: 3.9k

part 1 | part 2

"She's as shy as you, huh?"

Kenma looked in the direction Hinata was looking at, and there he saw across the room, his girlfriend handling some of her daily dose of required socialization for the day. It looks like she's stammering over talking to some Karasuno players.

"She actually handles conversation better than I do, to be honest," Kenma responds, and at the back of his mind, he suppresses a grin.

If only he knew how she can be wild and explorative on other terms. Though, of course, he wouldn't actually let Hinata know that piece of information 'bout her girl.

Kenma kept a bashful smile to himself.

It's no surprise she got close with Kenma the most. She’s usually an anxious person. But the quietness and softness of the guy’s presence go beyond easing her nerves. Mai is scared of tall people, especially men. Though, she's got no problem with talking with her boyfriend’s best friends and her seniors.

It’s also child’s play to see a (preferred color)-haired fellow shaking in a sea of red and black and expect it to be Mai.

Three teams are scheduled to have a team play practice for the week. Though, the game sets are almost finished for the day, hence why it's cooling down at the moment.

Kenma felt a cold bottle by his forearm, turning to expect a gleeful orange-haired guy near him.

“No wonder she’s friends with your girlfriend,” Kenma muttered.

Hinata raised a brow, following Kenma’s line of vision, directing at Yachi and Mai.

“Huh? She’s not my girlfriend.” Hinata says, keeping an eye on the girls. Hinata almost put a foot forward as the two girls flinched at some Shiratorizawa players, particularly the tall red-haired male with a big smirk on his face.

Mai also shared how that guy gives her the creeps. He can be quite unpredictable.

For a while, Hinata breathes out, followed by a grin as the other girl manages to answer the tall male. “Oh, so that’s your girlfriend, Kenma-san.”

“Don’t say ‘girlfriend’ too much.” he scratches the side of his face, flustered by the attention since earlier but nods. “Yes. I'll introduce her to you later.”

He walks out of the court, managing to divert the attention off his reddened ears.

Mai can be the bravest person he knows if it's about pushing herself to the edge or trying out new things. And Kenma knows he is one of the forces that influence her to do better outside her comfort zone, and vice versa.

It just so happens they are also on the same page in terms of sex.

It can be in terms of letting her lay on her back and testing her gag reflex through mouth-fucking her. Other specific situations would be doing the riskiest shits in-game, or while they're in a call with their friends. With Mai in between his legs as they're trying their best to conceal the fact that he's getting the best head whilst leading their game. Even stepping it up a notch further by doing it while they’re on their casual call in their Disharmony server.

Hell, Kenma also didn't know he had that in him and would be interested in those types of kinks.

Looks like he's been corrupted. Mai and her corruption kink winning.

Mai would be "mad" at that for blaming her. He already can hear her sassing him how: "You're kinky! I'm just bringing out your fullest potential."— As if she's the one who is responsible for that.

Well, if that's the case… I'll make her responsible.

Kenma felt a tent standing up by his gym shorts, much to his uncomfiness. Man, what an inconvenience.

And this is all just for letting his mind trail off to Mai.

It’s not anything related to her personally, or that they got any issues going on. But Mai noticed a slight distant or odd atmosphere between them, more so as they met eyes. Or rather, it passes through with Kenma immediately diverting his glances from her and looking away.

He seems to stifle something at the back of his throat, but she can’t quite pinpoint it. Kenma’s expression is hidden behind his hand on his face.

“You okay, Yachi-san?” Hinata picks up the last of the volleyballs on the ground. They’re about to wrap up the practice matches.

“J-just tired, I guess. I never had the chance to accommodate three teams in one gym.” she pried as she helps Mai with the other end of the net. Mai just quietly nods in agreement, there’s also an obvious tiredness in her dragging her feet.

Kenma feels a strong gaze towards him, it’s anything else but the anxious eyes that he saw from Mai earlier. It may be the effect he has on easing her but noticing a hint of depth and darkness on it. He can’t help but let a cold sweat slip off his head, swallowing a bit of saliva left from his dry throat.

The game sets parched him.

He glances back at her as if they’re dancing through glances. Hers didn’t seem to waver. It’s the same firm look as she’s not much anxious going down on him, even while streaming, she even manages to give him head despite the possible consequences. With him being quiet– She really admires how he can still play well and concentrate as if she isn’t there to distract him– though now, his quietness is not much at the advantage as maybe Mai thought they have a problem.

But this is not even about asserting a stand. Yet she still manages and knows she got him on the edge at the palm of her hands, quite literally.

Pulling him back into reality, was the dry towel hitting him and a look from Mai cold as the water handed to him, obviously a pout written on her lips.

I’ve got to tell her.

"Let's go change together." With no spare clothes at hand, it was more of an initiator from Kenma to tease Mai. He didn’t have any shame blurting that out as they were at a bit more secluded part of the courtyard. More on the supply closet behind the gym. But it still gave Mai a burning blush to hear that out loud from Kenma.

"Dummy, that's not allowed!" she smacks his shoulder, and the added skin contact didn’t help.

"So?" Kenma kept a stoic face just remaining his stare at her till she melted.

"Noooo! You're giving me ideas." Mai went in and covered her whole face. Is he darn serious just now?!

Of course, it was just to tease her, and it worked.

He stifled a laugh.

Mostly the reason he joked was to just initiate from the awkward atmosphere, but now that they have gone quiet again. Both of their mouths agape, as if racing to who can speak and tell each concern first.

They talked over each other at the same time.

“Mai.”

“Ken, I–”

The girl didn’t manage to finish laying out her thoughts as she was suddenly sneaked into the supply closet with him. With her back thumping lightly on the wall, the other spare balls even quiver as they hear people pass by the door.

As if panicked, she also held her breath as Kenma pinned her down in between his arms to stay put. It was only momentarily, though Mai had confusion outlined on her brows.

“Why did you need to hide us here though?”

Kenma’s silence also picked up on the unnecessary reaction. It just happened. His grip losing on her shoulders also signaled him to calm down. “Out of instinct, I guess.”

He could only answer, though, he was also thinking about where to treat her for later. What was he supposed to say again? The supply closet isn’t the most tasteful idea to come up as a ‘date’ with to be real. Kenma does have the same closeness and intimacy like this in mind though.

His proximity and the quietness to the point she can hear his breathing distinctly on her end though... It didn’t help much further on her ‘overlooked issues’ as to why they were put to discuss in the first place.

“Off topic but want to make this quick?” Kenma asks out of the blue. It is not off-topic on what she had in mind though, but it seems that they’re not far in their in-the-gutter thoughts.

Even though it’s not well lit up in the small space, Kenma has his face close to hers, he must take precautions. He does have those types of thoughts in mind, but he has to make sure.

Lightening up the mood again, trying, he says. “Are you okay… making this quick? If I take the lead?”

“Eh?” Like lead in what way? Mai is thinking of something else, but she’s not absolutely sure. Mai rubs her legs. Is he joking again?

But by his look, he's looking straight at her. Seriously, if I may add.

The unintentional friction she just did was a very bad idea, adding his deep stare at her.

Kenma inches closely to her carefully, checking if she's okay with it. There’s a shift in his tone as she’s still not budging nor getting any utterance out of her.

“Are you still upset over something that has to do with your look the whole day?”

So that was what he meant by the quick pace in mind? Well, on his part, Kenma is considerate. He knows she wants to talk about something as well.

She places her fingers lightly by his shoulder, barely pressing weight. Is that how it came across to him? Oh no.

Mai shakes her head. “It's not that I'm mad or anything… no.”

She’s got her own issues as well, that’s all… Looking down, she saw how Kenma’s pants aren't much ready to spell out his problems yet, so Mai started. I am getting him worked out ever since earlier as well, is that it?

“I’m just… aroused.” She hopes at the back of her mind as well, he’s feeling the same by the bop of his Adam’s apple.

Kenma blinks. “W-what?”

She rubs her legs once more, uncontrollably flustered.

“It’s just I saw how good you were– I mean, you’re always great as a setter– but I think it’s my hormones… it’s really been a while since I saw you guys play, an-and on how fired up you were earlier. I only see that whenever you’re playing against Shoyo’s team– I just found you hot.”

She barely got through, stumbling over her words on how fast she was sputtering her words.

He could only be rendered speechless by his girlfriend’s act.

All this time, it’s the same with Kenma.

So… what the fuck? They were just looking sullen all day because they were preying and just have the hots for each other???

“Is t-that so?” His sigh of relief came off as a chuckle. Good. It was just a different kind of tension. Period.

She just prolonged it but it’s basically what got her so worked up. Especially how Kenma is so fixated on how she's acting right now. She could only swallow up a bit of her hydration left, looking away at anything but his body.

His tone is in a controlled volume, speaking discreetly, he repeats his intention earlier now that that’s settled, with more bluntness now... “Want me to do something about it?”

“I’m fine with the idea…” Mai answered with an inquisitive look. With her grip on his arms, he took it as a cue to dive in.

He didn't waste any time as Kenma leaned in, pressing his body close to hers. Quite intensely, it is seen with his fervor pressing how much he was containing it all day. A bit too quick on how he’s shifting his touches by her hair, face, and her sides. But she’s as roused, Mai went to grab his hand, guiding him to put it up her shirt, pulling his hair with her other free hand.

“Mai…” He delves deeper into nibbling her lips.

She could only emit a deep sigh and moan in response, Kenma’s hand was already up her shirt, lifting the fabric of her shirt up. Just a bit that her bra is showing. He leans closer, sweats peeking through the fabric, further verifying her heated arousal.

Kenma places kisses by the gaps of her chest, in between her breasts. She stifles a mewl. “Hnm..gah… you’re giving me a hard time not to be quiet.” She whispers to the best of her ability. He continues to lick her skin, nibbling at the bare skin. He draws her bra up to uncover her nipples, both quickly at peak due to the handling of his lips and fingers.

Even with his look alone, she can feel his erratic touches pressing against hers. He moves up eye-level again, pressing both her arms up, she gets conscious and nervous at both her sweaty hands. Kenma remains persistent, pressing her down. This definitely will cause her to pool down her panties further.

He’s really going this far for a ‘quickie’ huh? Still keeping her arousal in mind, or is this one of his antics again? It’s painstakingly slow. Kenma knows this is too much risky and anxiety-inducing, yet… her wetness says otherwise.

Goddammit.

Her mind is hazy and clouded already– Mai no longer has any care for anything. She just wants to get this over with, this is beyond the waters that she expects to swim into, but the compulsive effect on her.

She wants more.

“J-just a bit, more…” Her moan spills as a restrained sigh. She practically begs as he’s touching anything, anything– but the gap between her legs. His hands lingered by the surface of her skirt. Mai hitches her breath as he skips over her core once again. “It’s been this morning that I wanted to touch myself, please? Kenma-kun…”

Man, he really did get her so aroused.

Kenma can’t even refuse especially since how she’s being too insistent and irresistible. He’s growing more turned on looking at how she’s desperate.

She’s not the type to want and be needy as she gets anxious, most definitely here where it’s a bit public. But to insist on making out in the open, the footsteps and shoe squeaks outside seem earshot close for their comfiness. It’s also thrilling.

Risky mode taken then.

Like a button that swiftly pressed on her skin, Mai lodging her lips passionately on his was the trigger that pushed them to go further. The hormones took over and blacked out a bit of Kenma’s control, grabbing hold of her waist a bit too lewdly on his torso. He humps his groin by hers, making her emit a sound unintentionally.

“Uh-hmm…” he tries to quiet her down again with a kiss, reaching under her skirt but it didn’t add to helping her shush. Kenma pulls away with a slight grin at his discovery of her bare legs.

“Why are you not in your gym shorts, hmmm?”

She's only wearing her skirt.

Mai feels Kenma’s veiny hands creep up her skirt, he pulls it up as he is staring into her eyes with a fiery passion. She felt the cold air expose her bare skin.

Even with the shelves blocking them, it still feels… embarrassing.

“Stop teasing, Kenma…” He just touches her, a bit damp from the sweat.

He gets down, lowering himself to his knees to take in the view of her. She's flushed red, with his eyes piercing through her as he breathes over her crotch.

She feels herself pool more.

“I spilled water earlier when I was preparing bottles, just before we’re wrapping up. That’s why… hngh… I changed–”

Her breath becomes off, turning shaky with his roaming and pressing fingers against the hem of her panties.

She gulps a breath.

“Always so clumsy of you, Mai,” he comments, now she’s wet for a whole entirely different reason. Both her legs gave up, her voice faltering after. “Haa…uh.”

She holds back a yelp, Kenma motions to stand her up again. “Stay still, Mai,” he instructs. But she almost buckles her legs as she had gone weak on his teasing.

Kenma licks her neck and bites her ear, making her let out a lewd mewl.

Almost like a purr by her ear, he whispers. “Keep quiet, Kitten.”

“H-how? You idio—”

Kenma suddenly touches her panties, sticky from her juices. She can no longer retort with how embarrassingly wet her pussy is already.

He cannot hold back any longer.

“Weren’t you also practically begging me to do this to you?” A thought also came into mind with Mai leaving traces and implications along the lines of ‘Kabedon’ for some time now, and her insistence to get one from him. He’s not one to disappoint, so okay, fine. Even if it’s not something on his alley. Kenma did the favor to make Mai’s dream come true.

He pins both of her hands harder, pressing them to the wall along with his face right up against her ear. Her mind burns with the idea.

Kenma continues by switching his grip on her hands with only one hand. He trails his finger by her swollen lips then lifting her chin using the other as he makes her look at her. “Answer me, Kitten.”

What the fuck is with the pet name?!

She swallows, having not been given a choice to escape. “Ye-yeah... but not in this setting.”

Not at this time at all that she imagines they’ll be doing this out and about. He’s practically falling apart as he is having a great time teasing her.

Both of her hands are locked, though loose enough to roam around his neck. She shudders at his hot breath near her sensitive ears. She doesn’t give in to freeing her hands, even as he’s pulling her closer into the kiss. She simply submits to Kenma.

He adjusts her legs, carrying her till she’s got her legs wrapped up in his drenched torso.

This is really out of character for Kenma, but seeing how Mai is so hot and bothered he gives in along with his sigh. Even if he does want to go down on her.

“We better make this quick,” he says, Mai practically breaks character as she squeals in delight, to put it bluntly. “You’re the best, Kenma.” she hugs him, a bit tangent to her smiling as if they’re not about to do something intense.

She tightens her legs around him momentarily before he puts them away. He pulls her panties to the side and then decides to pull them down, leaving one side on her leg.

She smiles to herself as she knows she would be well taken care of.

Her mind raced a thousand miles. As if honing to type paragraphs worth of worshiping his pretty long hands going in and out of her while his other is placed on her mouth to shut her pretty lips sealed.

Kenma quickly goes down, with her holding up her skirt as she tries to cover her whimpers.

He’s taking his good damn time eating her out, spreading his tongue by her clit and core back and forth. She holds back her arousal at how up to par he is slurping and sucking so loud.

Everything felt so soft and moist, it’s so fucking pleasing to the sensation. “Ahh, that’s-shit. Ha…” Her tone came off jittery. She wants to scream, but she needs to hold back every ounce of her patience, she's already trembling at this point.

Even the feeling of her breasts is phenomenal, how his free hand can bring her service, Kenma doesn't leave any neglect of any form. She cannot leave any praise for now as she’s opted to be quiet, even so, her mumbles are shaky to be coherent. Mai could only caress his skin, playing with his hair and gripping onto him as well to distract herself from moaning.

Mai fails miserably to be quiet so Kenma did the lovely favor with his pretty hands to cover her mouth and shut her up.

Using his lips as well as he pumps his finger into her, he thrusts in deeper along his fervent kiss, letting Mai taste herself in the kiss.

He moves his two digits all over in a different direction and speed, spilling more of her arousal tightening around him.

Just when Mai is about to cum, Kenma’s hand withdraws.

As he stopped his fingers, she winces. Mai turned to him with the most confused expression upon seeing Kenma's deadpan stare.

In the most serious tone, he says. “Your trial has expired.”

“Kozumeeee!” She almost whispered a hiss, Kenma covered her mouth, hand still drenched in her juices.

She is supposed to be mad, but Mai quickly catches on with another rustle nearby. They’re cut a bit short cause he also heard someone outside. When the sound subsided, the heightened sensation quickly shifted with Mai feeling his hardened length pushed into her in a cinch.

Kenma had prepared her wet core well as to why his movements easily let his dick go in and out of her. And the tightness in her is just unholy.

“Fuck, shh-“ He also covered her mouth as sounds slip off uncontrollably. “Ah-mmhm.”

The two especially Mai tried their best to muffle her moans.

The thrill of it all being outside— the possibility of getting caught—really did add factors for her part. Even the moist wall she grabbed hold of it, she loses all her senses as Kenma fucks her senseless to the wall. The sound of skin slapping and the feeling of him grabbing hold of both her waist to maneuver inside her. As much as she doesn’t want this to end, fuck- this is so risky.

Mai holds onto his wrist, tapping it a bit as a signal that she’s close— it’s not that much of a gap between them when Kenma let her go down to her knees to catch every ounce of his cum in her mouth as he ejaculates.

That was mentally exerting.

Another rustling outside became an indication to stop, but they laughed it off anyways, they quickly fixed their clothes. But Mai steals another kiss before breaking off. This is anything on her agenda for today. Kissing by the side of the gym, a supply closet even. Good thing she had her schedule free. It isn't such a bad idea after all…

Wait, oh right— wasn’t he supposed to say something else before they got wrapped up in the pleasure too much?

“What was it that you’re going to tell me?” she asks with burning cheeks. After a long-heated kiss, (the last kiss was a lie) for the last time as Mai insisted, lips still fresh on a string of saliva.

“Oh, it’s just I wanted to treat you along after training.” Kenma replies. He had been thinking the whole morning as to why he was also a bit preoccupied.

“We’ll also be there! Now, can you please hand me out some extra balls, Kozume? I didn't let yours turn blue— so get to it!” They heard a sudden thump by the door. Both of them flinched. Kenma covered her mouth, frantic as he looked back at her as wide-eyed as him. They hear Kuroo now adjacent to the wall as his voice is now louder. “How long are you going to keep yourselves in there?”

The two flushed a shade darker, their friend did the favor to pretend it was just Kenma in here and not blow their cover huh?

As for Kuroo, he’s heard at least more than enough that he should’ve left sooner.

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