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mae-gi-writes · 3 months 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 · 4 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 · 4 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 · 8 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

308 notes · View notes

kyuuppi · 1 year ago

Text

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 · 2 years ago

Text

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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bunny-eats-fox · 1 year ago

Text

lost on you | part XVI

MIYA ATSUMU X PLUS SIZE, FEMALE READER

words count : 5633

chapter warning : blood mentioned (nosebleed)

<< XV

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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.

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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

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@kelly-fushiguro345

#miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu scenario #plus size reader #chubby reader

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sweetlyvibe · 4 months ago

Text

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 · 2 months ago

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let it be me | kuroo tetsurou (3)

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 three | next part >>>

"Seems like the night out helped then?"

Osamu can't hide his grin from the way you're flushing a deep red. It's so cute and adorable to see you this way, after months and months of just having the corpse of your soul wander around his coffee bar like you didn't know where else to go.

Now it seems, is a completely different story. You're glowing.

"How do you know that?" you almost splutter out your coffee as you gawk at your cousin from the other end of the bar.

Osamu proceeds to wipe down the counter. It's a Monday afternoon and it seems that the activity has slowed down somewhat, giving him a chance to catch up with you. He tries to stop the smile from spreading across his face as he answers, "how do you think I know?"

"Your brother can't keep his mouth shut now, can he?" you mutter into your coffee with a scowl.

Osamu laughs, "can you blame him? This is probably the first time since your breakup that you've even considered the possibility of going out and meeting new people. Let alone go through with it. You should be thanking him--"

"He takes too much credit for my happiness. He doesn't need more stroking to his ego."

"Point taken," Osamu can't argue with that. His brother is somewhat of an egocentric bastard. One with a kind heart and a nice smile nevertheless. But still a bastard. Done with the cleaning, he walks over to you as he leans atop the kitchen counter, "so? How was it then?"

"Fine."

Osamu's brow raises, "give me a bit more than that, y/n. I'm not stupid."

You pause, "it was..." the words feel weird swimming along your tongue, "...fun."

"Right?" your cousin breaks into a grin, "and how's the little chica doin'?"

"The little chica is a little too obsessed with her PE teacher."

"At least she likes him."

You hum, "point taken."

Talking to Osamu is a lot easier than his twin counterpart, solely because he isn't as dramatic and is rather subtle, able to control his emotions better and easier to have a conversation with actual sense without going off the rails every five minutes. It was refreshing, despite the fact that you didn't spend as much time as the grey-haired young man due to clashing schedules.

"So...this Kuroo guy..."

A groan can't help but fall from your lips as your head hits the counter, "Osamu, I'm twenty-nine. I don't need any boy talk--"

"Oh yes you do honey," he sing-songs and leans even closer, grey eyes sparkling. It's in these moments that he resembles Atsumu so much you wish to whack him one, "just because your father ain't here doesn't mean you get to do whatever you wa--"

"Enough." your hand shoots out, slapping onto Osamu's mouth.

He pulls away with a cackle, wiping his hands along his apron, "I'm serious though. Kuroo's a good guy, but if he ever does anything out of line--"

"Yeah yeah I got it."

"--I'll kick his balls so hard--"

"Osamu!"

"Okay okay," he chuckles and holds out his hands in surrender, and you glower at him from your seat.

It's bad enough that Atsumu has constantly been wheedling some answers out of you. Adding Osamu to the mix is not something you want on your agenda. Ever since that night, you have been exchanging messages with the said PE Coach despite the growing anxiety about where this will all lead to. But in-between organizing events for your job, baking cakes and debating on whether to sign those darned papers, it's been a welcome distraction.

Okay, maybe more than a welcome distraction.

It's been...amazing.

Something to look forward to. Someone that seemed to understand you, your sense of humor, who doesn't judge and makes you smile no matter what mood you might be in. And somehow, it's hard for your heart to just close off when Kuroo is so insistent on making it melt into a puddle of goo.

Like that one time you were late to pick up Sakura from athletics practice for instance, having been taken up with a client on the other side of the city centre only to have rushed through traffic like a madwoman, arriving when the courtyard was practically empty. Panicked and more than a little worried about Sakura's whereabouts, you had found her at the entrance of the gymnasium, playing footsie with none other than Kuroo.

"Oh," Kuroo noticed you first, golden eyes lighting up just as your daughter's head turned towards the source of curiosity, "Mum!"

She'd dashed over and you'd cradled her in your arms, your heart finally able to resume its normal beating now that you knew she was safe and sound.

You'd looked up at Kuroo then, with his ball tucked under one arm as he casually strode over to you. The words felt pathetic and useless as they tumbled out of your mouth, "I'm --thank you, for staying with her."

"It's no problem," he stopped before you, a smile dancing across the curve of his lips, "it's a good excuse to see you, I suppose."

You blinked at him, "huh?"

And then the words hit you like a truck.

Your face colored so fast even Sakura took note, tilting her head up at you as her eyebrows furrowed in concern, "mum are you okay? You're all red--"

"Oh I'm fine, just--you know, the heat--" you were glad for that excuse. Your entire chest area felt on fire, "I--uhm--It's nice to see you too, I guess--Kuroo-sensei."

It was just impossible to miss the sparkle in Kuroo's eyes and you swore you could feel the warmth from him, like a cozy blanket on a cold night wrapping around you. That was before you'd quickly excused yourself and practically bolted.

Another time you'd been late in dropping Sakura off, having slept in and barely being able to shove a few bits of toast down your throat in hopes of beating the morning traffic. Kuroo, it seemed, had been assigned to morning duty that time, and as you'd rushed through the gates with Sakura in tow, you quickly bowed to him before ushering Sakura to her class.

"Go now," you pressed a quick kiss to your daugher's forehead, "I'll see you after school okay?"

"Yes mum," and Sakura had sauntered away as you watched, breathless and chest heaving, a piece of hair stuck to your lip.

"Everything okay, Kosuke-san?"

When you turned to see Kuroo, hands in the pockets of his basketball shorts and looking all too fine with his PE jersey draped over his broad shoulders like a runaway model, your eyes flitted away with embarrassment.

"Yeah," you nodded, "morning traffic is terrible."

"I bet," Kuroo's eyes flitted down and you followed, only to make a small sound of embarrassment as you spotted two different pairs of sneakers on your feet, "someone woke up late today."

You really want to hide. Maybe duck your head in a whole. Maybe ignore him—

But you can’t, and so you can just shuffle awkwardly like a penguin, “I—was trying out a new style.”

Lame. But what else could you say?

Kuroo’s laugh bought warmth to your cheeks and before you knew it, his fingers had come up to untangle the hair stuck to your face. He pushed it back behind your ear.

“Suits you,” his voice drops to a murmur.

Every single cell in your body had exploded and you’d quickly fumbled for an excuse before rushing into your car as far away as you possibly could.

You tried your best to push him to the back of your mind, for there were a million other things to take care of. Like the divorce papers for example, which had been glaring at you from your coffee table ever since the mailman had deposited it right outside your doorstep.

You were all for signing it, but every time you mustered up the courage to, Atsumu’s words rang like an echo inside your head:

Don’t do it unless you’re getting something out of it.

It keeps eating away at you, the mixture of guilt and remorse. Not to forget the fact that you’ve been adamantly staying away every time you see Aoi’s name flashing across your screen. That all comes to an end one Friday evening when he rolls up in his car to pick up Sakura for the weekend.

Your daughter, unaware of what’s going on, is quick to stick her face to the window, “papa!”

Her shriek makes you wince. Once, this name had made your heart warm.

Now, it just hurts.

“Hey,” Aoi lets himself in with practiced ease and you turn away to stuff the remaining items in Sakura’s bag, all so that you can avoid watching the scene because it hurts a little too much.

“Papa, I’ve been playing a loooot of volleyball recently!” Sakura’s jumping around like an excited pup, “—and I even scored a point once!”

“You?” You hear Aoi chuckle and zip up Sakura’s bag a bit too harshly, “you barely have the height to reach the net!”

“It’s not the actual net Papa!” Sakura scowls then, “it’s a children’s net! Papa, you really need to come pick me up more often. You’ll understand what it looks like then!”

“Yeah you’re right Kura, maybe I should.”

Ache and longing seep through your chest. You couldn’t help not listening in when they were right in front of you, but you did your best in blocking out your ex-husband’s voice as you wrap up the last of her belongings just as Sakura’s voice belts out in surprise:

“Kuroo-sensei?!”

Huh? Your head whips up so fast that you feel the ache of it at the back of your neck. Sakura meanwhile, jumps up and down in barely restrained excitement while pointing at the window, “mum! Mum did you see?! Kuroo-sensei is here!” She turns to look at you, “Why is he here mum?”

Sure enough, the said young man stands at the doorstep, hands in his pockets and leaning against the threshold in a manner that has your heart racing.

You scramble to your feet at the same time that Aoi straightens and swivels towards the door.

Surprise flits through Kuroo’s eyes, lasting a millisecond before he’s grinning and extending a friendly hand, “hey,” he directs it towards your ex-husband, “I’m Kuroo, Sakura’s PE coach.”

“Nice to meet you,” Aoi gives his hand a deft shake and you want nothing more than to disappear, “I’m Sakura’s father.”

“Yes, I see the ressemblance,” Kuroo smiles wanly just as the said child bounds straight into his arms, “Kuroo-sensei! What are you doing here?”

You ignore the way Aoi is drilling holes into your skull. Now is definitely not the time for explanations.

What kind of explanations do you owe him anyway? It's not like he's asked for your permission before he went and played love island with some kind of bimbo you barely knew existed.

“Hey munchkin!” Kuroo sweeps her up and she shrieks in delight before settling her back down, “I’m here for your mum today.”

He is? Your eyes widen, finding his own golden irises in a silent question that Kuroo only responds with a bashful grin.

“Really? Where are you taking mum? Can I come along?” Sakura, as clueless as ever, bounces up and down in delight.

You’re quick to intervene, “Sakura, you’re spending the weekend with Papa remember? He’s been waiting all week to spend some time with you.”

“Yeah, don’t you want some time alone with your dad, kiddo?” Aoi spreads his arms, “come on! Didn’t you want to go to the zoo?!”

Sakura gasps at that, her eyes going round, “we’re going to the zoo?!” She all but squeaks.

You can’t resist smiling at her reactions, leaning down towards her before tucking her hair behind her ear, “that’s what you wanted wasn’t it?”

But her chubby hand grabs onto yours, “are you coming?”

The words pierce you and you take a small inhale. Your eyes find Aoi’s from across the room and though you know it’s not his fault, you know this isn’t something he did just on a whim, your eyes say everything you cannot: you did this to us.

Instead, you’re forced to smile down at her, smoothing one hand over the back of her head, “it’s just going to be you and papa today alright Sakura? And then I’ll see you when you get back tomorrow.”

Her face falls and something twists in your gut, “okay,” her voice is small when she answers.

But you have no choice but to let her go, watching as her father grabbed onto her hand and walked out of the door. You can’t look at Kuroo’s face, knowing that there’s probably pity written all across his features. Definitely not something that you’d want if the situation were reversed.

You’re surprised he still hasn’t high-tailed it back to his car up until now. But maybe he’s just being polite.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing that makes its way out of your mouth when you finally gather up the courage to face him.

Your eyes stay glued on a spot along his shirt, glad for his tall height as you continue muttering out, “it’s just a bad time, I didn’t know you were coming—“

“Actually I’m the one that should be sorry.”

Your eyes flit up to his, the gentleness in his voice throwing you off guard and what you find in those golden pupils make your heart flutter slightly.

Kuroo just gazes down at you with a small smile,looking a little sheepish, “I realize I just barged in when I wasn’t really welcome.”

“No—no, no! Not at all!” You lift your arms in a sign of surrender, “I’m curious though… why did you? Come, I mean. Is there—“ you hesitate slightly, “—is there something you need?”

“Well,” his smile blossomed into a grin. Pressing against the countertop, he leans forward towards you, “I wasn’t kidding when I said that I came by to see you.”

His words cause a blush to spread across your cheeks, “don’t—say things like that,” you stammer out, “people will misunderstand.”

“Misunderstand what exactly?”

“What we are, our relationship,” you let out a breath and shake your head, “anyway, it doesn’t matter. So? What’d you come here for?”

“Like I said,” his eyes are golden glimmers, sparkling with mischief, “I came to see you.”

“Surely it’s not just that,” you splutter.

“More specifically I came to hang out,” he continues, “I heard there’s this new italian place that just opened up a few streets down. Since you seem free, would you like to accompany me?”

“I—uhm—“ the request is so sporadic it sends your brain into a fuzzy cloud, thoughts scattering and making no sense as you try and piece together a reason as to why you cannot make it out.

Your subconscious is begging you to go, practically kneeling on both knees and jumping up and down in excitement. Your brain though, the logical part, is pulling her hair out at the atrocity of it all.

“Fine,” is what you blurt out. Before you even realize what you’ve said. But when Kuroo gives you that million-watt smile you think that maybe it’s all kind of worth it.

———

“No way, he wouldn’t do that—“

“Oh no, he did.” Kuroo snorts into his drink. Leaning back against the parisian chair in which he’s seated as he splays his legs out before him, you fold one leg over the over, all too aware of how physically close he is. If you moved your leg any further you’re certain to brush against his knee.

A delicious, yet terrifying thought.

Kuroo chatters on with the story about Atsumu being kicked out of the boy’s dorm, “when the manager finally found him, they made him do two-hundred pushups and thirty laps around the training grounds. Was a pretty worthy sight, if you ask me.”

“That sounds exactly like what Atsumu would do,” you can’t help but roll your eyes. Trust your cousin to go through all that incessant stuff just because he’d opened his big mouth.

“How come I’ve never seen you around before?” Kuroo leans back in his seat, golden eyes scanning your face as if trying to piece together his memories of whether he’d seen you or not, “you’re related to them. You should’ve popped up sometime in the picture.”

“I—“ a lump fills the back of your throat and you press your lips together, look away, “we weren't close as we were growing up. They were so--so overwhelming and I was a shy kid. Until Sakura came into the picture."

Kuroo's eyes are warm. Warmer as he keeps on gazing at you with a softness, with the kind of gentleness that makes your heart ache. He's not supposed to look at you like that. Most people will clear their throat at this point in the conversation, or turn their head away.

But he doesn't. He just keeps his eyes on you at all costs. Like you're the most important thing in this room.

You're not sure how to feel about that.

"But when they heard I was pregnant, Atsumu and Osamu were there practically every day," a small smile flickers across your face at the memories that resurface, "they took care of me a lot, especially since my parents were so angry."

You let out a small chuckle, but it's definitely far from funny. It sounds hollow even in the bustling restaurant.

Kuroo leans forward so that his arms rest atop the table, muscles bunching and tensing as he does so. Gorgeous, you think to yourself as he says, "you were alone during your pregnancy?"

"Not actually alone," the smile you show now his bitter, "I had Aoi. At the time he was a really good husband. We got married quickly, just civil, because our parents didn't approve of us keeping the baby. It was quite a shock for them. And I had my two cousins to help me out whenever Aoi wasn't there."

"That must've been hard."

"It wasn't that bad," you take a sip of your water, glad for the distraction.

Kuroo shifts, his knee brushing yours. The warmth sizzles up your leg and a knot forms in your chest. God, you really can't take this.

Almost out of impulse, you find yourself blurting out, "Kuroo-sensei, can I ask you something?"

He tilts his head to the side, a sign for you to go on.

"Why--" the words get clogged up in your throat, "why are you being nice to me?"

The last few words are said in a whisper, for fear of what he will say in return. You hide your hands in your lap to stop them from shaking, but it seems your leg takes on a life of its own as it starts jiggling up and down.

"Kosuke-san."

And that's when Kuroo's hand rests atop your knee. Barely there. Yet searing hot.

Your breath hitches.

You blink at him, heart racing.

He cracks a small, comforting smile. The kind of smile that is crooked at the corners and makes his eyes crinkle up, "you're not scared of me, are you?"

"No," you mumble out, "just scared of your answer."

You shouldn't be so comfortable with him touching you like that. It's gentle, barely there, feather light. It should be scandalous. You should be technically ripping his hand off because in any other normal setting this would count as perverse.

And yet.

Yet, his touch ignites heat that sears right through the material of your jeans. Your heart flutters at his touch and your leg freezes in mid-shake, unsure of whether to continue when his gaze makes you feel a multitude of things, things that you're not sure are good considering what happened in the past.

When Kuroo answers next, you almost swoon right out of your chair. His voice dips into a murmur, one so raw and throaty it turns your insides to mush:

"Because I think you deserve some kindness."

"So," your forehead creases as you attempt to decipher his words, "do you pity me, then?"

“No, well—maybe a little, at first,” he catches himself, cheeks suddenly blazing full pink under your gaze, “obviously, it’s hard not to sympathize when I see a single mother doing her best for her daughter.”

“Surely I’m not the only single mother in that entire school.”

“No, but you’re different,” Kuroo’s eyes fill with warmth, “and also, not all parents are as kind as you are."

"That's not really--"

“You’d be surprised,” Kuroo cuts you off with a raised brow, “don’t be so naive, Kosuke-san. People aren’t as nice as you might make them out to be,” his eyes lock on yours, “but you are.”

You look away and swallow thickly, “yeah— I suppose.”

His hand is still on your knee. One part of you wants to move away. The rational part screaming that this shouldn’t be appropriate at all. Yet another bigger part of you is squealing in delight in hopes that he never takes it off.

You don't know which part of your brain you wish to turn off and trample on until it's just an afterthought in your subconscious.

Thankfully, the waiter approaches and Kuroo's hand drops away from your skin. He insists on paying the bill despite your best efforts and even goes as far as to drive you back home in his beat-up truck.

"Thank you," you mumble as you spot your front door, void of any activity now that Sakura's at her father's. It's always like this; lonely nights, with thoughts of what-ifs trickling through the back of your brain like a never-ending stream of water that gets muddied the more time passes. You understand and are happy that she at least has a father who wants to be in her life. That's the least you could've asked for from your ex-- well, soon to be ex-husband once you sign that darned paper -- but it's the thought of the other woman that makes you sick in the stomach. Jealousy churns like an ache that spreads and knots and tightens. What if Sakura likes her stepmom better? What if the other woman gives her everything she wants, everything she needs without batting a single eyelid?

You're so caught up in your own head that you barely hear Kuroo's murmur, until he's calling out your name from the driver's seat.

You quickly spin your head towards his, a guilty smile curving across your lips, "sorry, I got lost in my head for a second," you chuckle in hopes that it will dissipate the sudden tension filling the vehicle, glancing out of your apartment complex and glad that, for once, there's a bit of light flickering in the corridors.

"Thanks for bringing me home," you tell him.

"Pleasure is all mine," Kuroo replies. His eyes are on you though, as if reading right through you.

So you quickly try to dispel his worry by saying, "I'm just going to go up and rest. It's been quite a day and--"

"Do you--" he hesitates, purses his lips in thought, "do you want me to hang out for a while? Until you're sleepy and kick me out."

You're not too certain what to do except gawk at him. Which he takes as a cue that you might've twisted his words in the wrong way. For he quickly adds in a scramble of words, "Not--Not like you're inviting me over or anything. Just--I mean, as a friend. I just--I could keep you company."

His words echo in the silence and something in your heart swells at the kind gesture. Kuroo says that you're kind, but he clearly doesn't see how much effort he does for you. And here he is, sitting there looking bashful and embarrassed about asking to keep you company. Your heart melts a little and you agree, showing him the way to the guest parking.

Just as a friend, you try to tell your heart, just as a friend. And nothing else.

-----

If someone had asked you, a few weeks ago, whether Kuroo was a fine catch. You'd probably answer yes and move on with your day.

But now, your life seems so entwined with his that you're not sure whether that's a good or a bad thing.

After your little outing a few weeks ago where he'd decided to keep you company in the dark hours until the very early morning, you'd seemed to have crossed a bridge that you cannot back-pedal no matter how hard you try. If you close your eyes, you can still imagine the vivid picture of the two of you; first at the kitchen table sharing a glass of wine as you kept babbling about random stories and tales from your childhood, before you'd finally landed on the couch playing a crazy game of Mario kart, courtesy of Aoi's mistake of having forgotten his Switch when he'd first decided to move out.

You'd never had so much fun in so long that you'd almost cried yourself to sleep that night, right after Kuroo had stumbled out of your flat. He'd blatantly refused your couch as guest room, saying that staying over would just be more of a hassle when he had early classes the next morning.

But that doesn't stop him from seeing you when he can. Nor you him. And it's become something of an addiction.

He drops by every week now whenever Sakura's gone to her father's place. These nights are spent playing scrabble, watching reruns of Harry Potter like the nerds you are, and holding conversations that run longer than you'd expect them to. It seems like routine for Kuroo to clock out around one in the morning and every time he does walk away and disappear down the corridor, something in your heart clenches at his absence.

The flat does feel a little too lonely once Kuroo's gone. But you'd never tell him that small fact.

Today he's come around a little earlier than usual, due to a special meeting between teachers and parents that the school had organised. He's busy playing house with Sakura while you're preparing the pizza base for your night in, something that you hadn't done since--well, ever since Aoi had moved out actually. But now, you're even humming to imaginary music and glancing at the living room couch where Kuroo is currently giving a full-on review about Sakura's imaginary cooking skills.

Your heart swells tenfold and you swear the sight makes you cry. It's what you crave for, it's what Aoi had done for you once, for your family. Before he'd decided that you weren't good enough and had moved on to someone else.

"--perfect combination of sweet and spicy. I think I'mma gives this Mac and cheese a perfect ten out of ten," Kuroo was saying just as the front door rang.

You went to open it, wiping your hands down the front of your jeans before unlocking the door.

The sight of Aoi always made your heart sink and your stomach churn.

But not today. Today, your heart barely acknowledges him and you think it's good progress. You even go as far as give him a smile, "hey Aoi."

"Hi Y/N," he keeps glancing behind your back and you're pretty certain why; it's the sight of Kuroo with his daughter, probably, that unnerves him.

Your suspicions are proved right when he mutters, "what's he doing here again?"

It's low, like a grumble, so that only you can hear it in this vicinity.

You straighten, "he's my friend. He's spending the evening with me today."

"Like he's been doing every week?"

"Yes," you raise a brow, prop a hand on your hip, "is that a problem?"

"I have one problem, yes," Aoi scowls back, "why is he spending time with our daughter like he deserves it?"

"Why is that a problem? Do you not let--what's her name again? Josie? Jodie? -- do you not let her play and spend time with Sakura?"

"It's Judy, and she's going to be my wife, Sakura's stepmother," Aoi hisses and you can't help but flinch, "don't you think you're just making it harder for Sakura? It's been bad enough with the divorce and everything--"

What? You chuckle and that ignites into a laugh so hollow and void of emotion that Aoi flinches, "excuse me?" the nerve of this man. Your voice hardens, "I'm the one making it harder for Sakura? Tell me Aoi, who's the one who left?"

"I left because I was unhappy--"

"So was I!" you suddenly spit out, anger rising through you. You don't care that Kuroo can hear you now. Well, you should care that Sakura's witnessing one of the many fights you will have with her father. But you can't take it. Not all this belittling.

Not when you're finally feeling something other than this overwhelming grief that plagues you and breaks you into tiny pieces every time you look at that fucking darned document.

Your knuckles shake so hard you have to tighten them into fists that you glue to your sides.

You continue, "I was unhappy and guess why? It was all because of you! Because you always had something--you barely spent time with us after Sakura was born and--and we barely talked! You didn't want to talk. Heck, you made sure to steer clear of me whenever we were in the same darned house," your voice rose with each sentence, the clench in your stomach finally unleashed after restraining it, holding it in for Sakura's sake.

"But I endured. I endured it, because we had a daughter. We had a child, and goddamn it I was responsible enough to think of her first, and not myself," you snarl, for once glad that Aoi seems at loss for words, almost panicked, "and--what? You're lecturing me about making it hard for her? About being selfish?" you snicker and spread your arms wide, "look around Aoi. You know who's responsible for this mess, and it's definitely not me."

The silence that follows your little monologue is so heavy and laden with emotion that nobody dares break it. Even Sakura has stopped talking, though you don't know what's happening behind your back, wanting to keep your eyes on that fucking bastard and end this, once and for all.

When Aoi does nothing to answer -- because what's he going to say when you're right?-- you swivel, go to retrieve the signed divorce papers atop your kitchen table you've been dutifully ignoring until now, and storm back to him.

"And here," you thrust the papers at him so suddenly he shrieks as he grapples with the folder, "you can take your damned divorce papers. I don't need them, and I don't need you."

And before Aoi can say anything else, you've slammed the door in his face.

Bang.

Silence.

You can hear a pin drop.

You're heaving, chest rattling with every breath, gaze fixated on the door.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

It's the relief that sweeps in first, through the cracks of anger that slowly melt away.

And then, realisation that nothing will ever be the same.

Then, grief.

It hits you like a truck.

Everything you've worked for. Everything you had lost.

You're not sure when your body decides to crumple to the ground, just that there are warm arms to catch you this time before a soft baritone echoes through the side of your head, through your chest and making you want to cry.

Kuroo is talking, and somewhere in-between the lines of numbness and pain you make sense that he wants to take Sakura out for a bit, just enough time for you to recollect your thoughts. You're so lost in your own thoughts that he has to repeat a question twice for you to snap to attention.

"Do you want me to stay? Or do you want me to go? Up to you, anything that makes you happy."

Kuroo is babbling, but the fact that he even asks you for what you want, for once, makes your chest ache with terrible sweetness. You don't deserve him in any shape or form.

You nod, and Kuroo takes it as a good sign, for he prompts, "what do you want me to do Y/N?"

As if on impulse, his hand pushes stray hairs away from your face. The action is gentle, kind. Almost loving.

Almost.

"Take her out," you manage to mumble, "please, Kuroo. I--I don't want her to see me like this."

"Got it." And Kuroo's off, scooping up Sakura with a playful tone, distracting her from the mess that you are huddled over in the corner of the living room as he shoves his shoes on and strides out of the flat so that all is left is you, the echo of silence that remains, and the feelings lying in the pit of your stomach.

-----

It's some time later that you hear the lock twisting in the door. You've managed to pull yourself together by then, finishing up the pizzas so that they're warm and fresh out of the oven. Sakura's footsteps echo against the wooden floor as she runs over to you.

"Mum!"

You force a smile. It comes a little easier when you see your daughter so excited, "hello, you," you coo. She slams her entire body right into your mid-section and your arm wraps around her, "how was the walk with Kuroo-sensei?"

"We saw ducks! And--And Kuroo-sensei let me play on the swings. He even pushed me so that I went up high!" Sakura's chubby finger pointed towards the ceiling to show just how high it was, and you chuckled before hugging her close. Feeling the warmth of her small body against yours is something you'll never really get over. It's like she fits and moulds right into the crevices of your broken parts to make them whole again.

Your eyes travel over to the said young man in question who's been responsible for so much of her happiness, and you soften, "thank you," you mouth to him over the kitchen counter.

He shakes his head and sends you a smile. It melts your insides, warming your tummy and instantly causing your cheeks to flush bright red.

You look away with a sharp swallow, "I've made something that looks like dinner," you propose tentatively, "if you'd like to stay."

You don't look at him as he strides over, big steps closing the gap between the front door and the dining table. He shrugs off his coat in the process, "I'm always in for food."

It would be stupid of you to think that such a normal dinner routine might make Kuroo forget all about what happened a little earlier. But it's the way his eyes search your face when he thinks you're not looking, the way the concern swims in his entire demeanour, like he's not sure whether he can completely relax yet.

Part of you is more than horrified by this turn of events. You don't want Sakura's sports coach thinking you're an unsuitable parent, nor do you want him to know about your personal matters considering he's a bit too close to home. It's embarrassing and humiliating and every time you meet his eyes by accident across the table you make sure to look away as quickly as you can.

The other, more selfish part of you, though, is suddenly relishing in the warmth that Kuroo's presence brings to the flat. And you can't help but crave for more, despite knowing this is not what's best for you and your little girl.

After all, even if Kuroo did think of you that way -- which he doesn't by the way -- he'd be tied down with a liability that's too hard to bear when it's not your own child.

Cleaning up after dinnertime in silence, Kuroo volunteers to take charge so that you can put Sakura to bed. You send him an apologetic smile, quickly going through the bedtime motions with your daughter before you can tuck her into bed.

"Mum," Sakura's voice is merely above a whisper as she cuddles into her blanket. The sight is so cute, it makes your heart swell and you resist the urge to coo, "Are you okay Mum?"

You pause, hiss in a breath.

What are you supposed to tell her?

What exactly are you supposed to say?

You manage to choke out a soft, "I'm alright."

"Is Papa okay?"

"Yes," your heart breaks a little more. You barely manage to murmur, "yes he's okay sweetie. Just--It's been a hard time."

"Why Mum?"

You don't know what to say, so you opt for pushing her hair away from her face, "well, sometimes adults face difficult decisions. And those decisions ...they hurt us. Sometimes."

"Did Papa hurt you today?"

Tears well at the corner of your eyes but you refuse to sniff, refuse to show her that you're as battered and beaten as what your heart says.

"No sweetie, he didn't--he would never hurt me, or you. Because he's your Papa and he--he loves you very much."

"Does he really?"

"Yes," you wrap your arms around her in a hug, hoping that this will dissipate all her queries, all her suspicions of her father, "yes he does. He really does love you. A lot."

From the depths of your arms, you hear your daughter's soft echo of, "okay."

It takes more than just a few minutes for Sakura to doze off. But you tuck her in gently when she does, rearranging the blankets around her frame before slowly backing out of the room. You find Kuroo still at the kitchen sink with your supposed apron around his waist, and the sight of him -- so domestic, like he's been living here all along -- makes you want to cry all over again.

"She's asleep?" Kuroo's voice causes your shoulders to jump. You nod and walk over to where he stands, taking note of the amount of dishes left.

"Thank you," you gesture towards the squeaky clean plates hanging off to dry, "it's all good now, I'll take over--"

Kuroo throws you a look and tuts, "sit down. I'm gonna make us some tea."

"But--"

"Kosuke-san," the dip between his brows deepen, "go sit down."

It's non-arguable and you let out a soft sigh of defeat as you pad over to the couch, grumbling something incoherent under your breath. Does he have to be so perfect at everything? It's almost like living in a fairytale dream.

Or is he just being nice because he wants something out of you?

A shudder suddenly makes its way up your spine and you shake your head, ridding yourself of all negative thoughts. No, he won't do that, your brain chides, he's not like that.

He's not like Aoi.

"Here."

You look up to find none other than the said man settling down beside you, nudging a cup of what seems to be hot water into your hands.

"Sorry," he mumbles, "I couldn't quite find your tea. Your place is a bit like a labyrinth."

"Yeah that's what happens when you have a toddler," you grimace, "but thank you. I do appreciate--" you hesitate, a small smile flickering across your lips, "hot water."

Kuroo chuckles, "right? It was made with love."

You sip on your hot water as a comfortable silence settles over you, with only the hum of the fridge and distant cars from afar filling the room. The weight of all your troubles are finally getting to you, making your body sluggish as it succumbs to the comforts of your pillows.

"Kuroo sensei," you bite down onto your lower lip, before your eyes flutter up to his face to find that he's already been looking at you, "I--"

"It's Kuroo," he interrupts, "we're friends, right?"

You try to bite back your smile, "yeah. I suppose," your head dips back down to your lap, "I just--I wanted to say thank you. For everything. But...especially for today."

"Kosuke-san, I think it's fair enough to say that you were having a hard time," Kuroo answered, "I just did what I thought was right. And--also, not to be that person, but he didn't have to do it in front of his daughter."

"Yeah you're right," you sigh, "well, that's Aoi for you. Selfish, self-centred, always wants what's best for himself."

There's a moment for the words to digest in the air. You sip on your hot drink, not wanting to meet Kuroo's eyes for fear of what you'll find there.

If you had any doubts about Kuroo questioning his interest for you, that had to be long gone by now. Nobody in the world wanted someone who already had baggage, and a physical baggage that would forever be a reminder of your past.

The truth hurts. It punches you straight in the gut.

You suck in a sharp breath, loathing yourself for even thinking about it. For even entertaining the idea.

But then, Kuroo asks you a question. One that instantly breaks down your walls no matter how much you fight it.

"Are you alright?"

You can't help it.

You break.

It's as if all tears once bottled up are suddenly let loose. Pressing your hands up to your face to muffle your cries, you feel Kuroo's arms wound around you again, pulling you insistently to his chest despite your best tries at resisting. But he's warm and for once in your life you don't feel like fighting, which is how you find yourself sobbing into his shirt, hands gripping it tight like he might disappear at any given moment.

All that time, Kuroo merely lets you cry, one hand smoothing over the back of your head while he presses his cheek against your temple.

"Shh," he keeps murmuring into the shell of your ear, "it's okay. It's going to be okay."

Some time later finds you in his arms, practically cuddled up to his chest and your cries reduced to mere sniffles. Kuroo has leaned back onto the couch so that you're resting against him, soft curves pressed to his firm ridges and hands absentmindedly running through your hair in a way that makes your eyes flutter with the heaviness of sleep.

It's comfortable. Too comfortable you might just fall asleep here.

Kuroo dares to peek at your face, noticing that you're staring off into space.

Your phone suddenly buzzes from your pocket, startling you out of whatever daydream you'd concocted. Quickly fishing it out of your pant pocket, you unlock the screen only to find Atsumu's message.

Atsumu: I suppose you're with Mr. Hotshot? Any chance of getting laid tonight? ;)

Your face colours right when you feel Kuroo's chest vibrate with a laugh.

You quickly whip the phone away from his view, "y--you're not supposed to read other people's texts!"

Your heart is practically cartwheeling at this point and you swear you feel sweat dot your hairline as Kuroo throws his head back with even more laughter.

You scowl at him, "what's so funny?!"

"Nothing, oh--god, nothing at all," he can't seem to control himself, shaking his head with a grin so wide it makes the sight adorable for some unknown godforsaken reason. He runs a hand over his face, trying and failing to calm down, "I just--oh man Atsumu. Do tell me more."

"Like I said, it's rude to read other people's texts," you snap.

"Oh I'm sorry, you opened it in front of my face though," Kuroo's grin is so wide that it frustrates you to no end. But before you can shove him away, his hold tightens as he pins you closer.

Your eyes widen, fluttering up to meet his golden brown pupils in surprise. He's warm, and firm, and just about as delicious as you had imagined. It makes your stomach knot, makes you slightly dizzy as you get a whiff of his deodorant--something musky, something that smells just like him.

When he speaks next, his voice has dropped two octaves.

"So how long were you going to keep it a secret from me?"

His murmur sends a chill up your spine. Your hands, not knowing what should be done with them, curl along his shirt.

Your eyes find a blank spot in the middle of his chest, "it's...not a secret. It's just a--a joke. Of some sort."

"A joke?" his smirk widens, "well share it with me too."

"It's none of your business."

"Pretty sure you made it my business by opening it in front of me."

Oh god. You can't even stop your heart from beating so loudly it's like a hummingbird. You're pretty certain Kuroo can hear it. "I--uhm--"

Your brain tries to scramble for words. But it's impossible. Not when he's so close. Definitely not when he's looking at you like that. With those eyes.

"Something tells me you've been holding out on me."

"Not at all."

You're still very adamant on averting your eyes. But his hand finds your chin, tilting it up until you have no choice but to look straight into those beautiful swirls of golden shimmering with amusement and what seems to be -- tenderness? Affection?

"Tell me," his murmur is raw, throaty. Like warm, melted chocolate.

You take a soft breath. Your chest constricts. It's impossible to breathe.

"Atsumu," you start in a shaky whisper, "he thinks--" you swallow, "he thinks that we might have... a--a thing."

"A thing?" his arm laced around your middle tightens slightly, "what makes him think we might have a thing?"

"Well I don't know, I--' god, is this supposed to be this hard? To admit that you have a small crush? You suck in air in-between your teeth as you bite the inside of your cheek, turn your head away, "I guess I talk a lot about you."

He hums in reply, "I like the sound of that."

And with another tug at your chin your eyes have no choice but to lock on his. There's a softness there in those beautiful pupils flecked with long, drawn out eyelashes.

""The sound of what?" you blink.

"Us having a thing," Kuroo's hand seems to find it fun to caress up and down your hipbone. His touch is searingly warm against your skin, "you talking about me, you blushing because of it."

"Well don't be so full of yourself," You huff out, "you're a good friend, and I'm grateful--"

"Y/N."

Woah.

You've never imagined the sound of your name falling from his lips. But here it is, laced with some kind of attentiveness, with some sort of affection that makes you weak at the knees and causes warmth to drip to your lower belly.

Your lips part. But you find you can't seem to formulate words. He continues, "I like you, not just as a friend. I think you're brave, incredibly kind, smart--"

"What are you doing?"

"Huh?" Kuroo frowns, "I--What does it look like I'm doing?"

"I don't know," you're starting to panic, pulling away slightly in the process, "that's what I'm asking you."

"Well I--" a small chuckle echoes past his lips, "I guess what I'm trying to do is ask you out."

"Oh." the words take a few seconds to register in your brain.

Oh.

"Oh." you repeat like an idiot. Oh shit.

He's actually serious.

Oh shit.

Oh fuck.

"Uhm--" your throat has suddenly gone so dry that nothing seems to come out of It no matter how hard you try.

Kuroo just lets out a small laugh before his hand goes up to push a few stray hairs out of your face, "cat got your tongue?"

"Kuroo-sens--I mean, Kuroo--" you try to stutter out through the butterflies rippling through your chest at his gentle action, "It's not that simple, I--I have a daughter. It's a responsibility. A liability. And I'm no casual dater, I'm more of a long-term relationship type of girl."

"And?"

"And there's absolutely no reason for you to like me other than as a friend, because I have baggage. I'm not a single woman, I'm on the brink of a divorce and I have a four--almost five year old -- always running around," you realise you're babbling but it's impossible not to, especially not with him looking at you like that, "trust me, that's probably the last thing you want--"

"When I say I like you," Kuroo murmurs, "I mean all of you. And that includes Sakura."

"You don't mean that, until you actually experience--"

"I do mean it."

You shake your head, "Kuroo I--"

"Can I just take you out?" There's a slight note of desperation in his tone. In a smooth motion, the hand twined around your waist slips up to your hand, thumb drawing soft circles over your wrists as his eyes pin you down with an intensity that makes you want to squirm, "just one date. That's all I ask."

Your immediate response is no. Because why would you? You're literally just getting out of a relationship. The last thing that you want is another of these holes that you'll take months to recover from. And what if Kuroo decides you're not what he wants after all? He's younger than you, dashingly handsome, and can get whoever he wants in this entire world.

So why you?

But as soon as you open your mouth to tell him no, your thoughts fly back to this afternoon; the way he'd cared for Sakura when you were having a mental breakdown, the way he'd cradled you in his arms like you were fragile porcelain, the way he hadn't hesitated the moment you'd asked for help.

Even back then, Aoi hadn't taken charge this way. Aoi hadn't even bothered. And so you'd gotten used to not asking. To do things all by yourself.

Looking back into those golden-hued eyes makes you hopeful. And that's the worst thing that can happen to you, hope. But still, it's impossible to say no when Kuroo's gazing down at you so fondly. Like you're the only thing holding his world together. like he'd do anything to be with you.

So you say yes.

171 notes · View notes

revasserium · 2 years ago

Note

I'm so sorry I know you're in a Naruto mood, but childhood friends to lovers with Suga sounds so cute 😭

reqs are open :)

anatomy of a wish (or the thermodynamics of falling in love)

sugawara; sfw; 1,617 words

june, 2001

“tomorrow’s my birthday! u wanna come?”

the two of you are all of seven years old, with dreams too big for this world to handle, and bodies still small enough for the sky to seem like an endless place. he grins at you, jabbing a thumb into his chest, puffing it out like all his favorite superheroes. like this, he thinks, there’s no way she’ll say no! because the pretty girls never say no to the heroes in movies. and that’s just how things go.

“only if you tell me your birthday wish!" you say, grinning from ear to ear, watching as he struggles with the concept of telling someone else his birthday wish.

"ah... but momma said that if you tell someone a wish, then it won't come true!"

july, 2012

“nee, koushi… what’d you get for question 12?”

you’re splayed across his bedroom floor, cheek pressed against the workbook pages. there’s two bottles of fanta sitting in the space between your bodies, condensation beading on the frosted glass, their contents half drunk, the bubbles falling flatter with each passing second.

“it’s too damn hot in this stupid town… i wish it's just... cool down or something...” he says, lying on his back with his arms splayed out beside him, staring up at the lazy circles of the ceiling fan, doing absolutely nothing to cool down the tepid heat rising within the walls of his room.

“wishes don't come true just because you want them to, you know that right?” you flash him a lopsided grin and he feels his stomach backflip inside him.

august, 2002

“we’re supposed to hold hands when we cross the street!”

you bite your lips as suga grabs your tiny hand in his, your palms sticky with the summer heat, the road deserted except for the shadow of a few large crows, feasting on the remains of some long-dead roadkill. you crinkle your nose as he pulls you across the street to the convenience store, the both of you heaving a long sigh of relief as you step through the air-conditioned doors.

“kou-chan… you’re sweaty.” you blink down at your linked hands.

he hums loudly, pointing with this free hand at the on-sale tuna onigiri on the counter, and makes no effort to let you go.

september, 2012

“so, where’re you gonna apply?” you tap your pencil on the wooden desk, him leaning over the back of his chair to doodle in the margins of your notebook.

“hm? i dunno… probably somewhere close by…”

“are you… gonna keep on playing volleyball?”

his pencil pauses; so does yours.

“yeah. i-i think i am.”

you smile, your pencil resuming it’s rhythmic tap, tap, tap on the table. he doesn’t look up, but you can see the grin on his lips as he continues to shade in the stripes of a perfectly drawn volleyball.

“good. okay.”

october, 2004

at ten years old, sugawara koushi is certain he’s going to marry you.

“what kinda wedding dress do you think you’d wear?” he asks, the pair of you lying on the futon in your room, staring at the soft green glow of the stars pasted across your ceiling. once upon a time, you might've asked what wishes he would've made. but wishes are for children, and they won't come true if you tell them to someone anyway.

“mmm… something pretty.”

“well, duh.”

you make to kick him; he laughs, rolling out of your reach.

“i just meant that anything would look pretty on you!” he says, still laughing.

you sniff, feeling your cheeks warm with the weight of his words.

“you’re cheesy,” you say, unable to stop the smile from spreading across your lips.

“your moms says that girls like that kinda thing.”

november, 2013

“hey! how’s tokyo? ah — well, i guess i was just there last year for nationals — right… but miyagi is the same as ever. quiet… but it’s the nice kinda quiet, y’know? i — uhm… i miss you. i mean, all of us do — asahi and daichi too! but… i think i miss you the most. i know you’re busy with studies so it’s okay if you don’t call me back for a while but… i just wanted you to know that. we’re all good here, so don’t worry. ah — right. that’s it! let me know if you’re coming back for new years! it — it’d be nice to see you again. we... we can visit the shrine and make our new years wishes."

december, 2008

“we go to high school next year!”

you laugh as suga skips half a step in front of you, his breath puffing out in front of him in a great cloud of white.

“you applied to karasuno, right?”

he nods, his moon-kissed hair flopping excitedly about his ears.

“mhm! i watched their team play at nationals and — uwah, it was so cool!!! wait — you applied there too, right?”

you grin, raising an eyebrow, “hm… did i?”

suga pins you with a reproachful look, “it’s mean to play with a young boy’s tender emotions like that, y’know!”

you roll your eyes, “you’re full of shit, sugawara koushi.”

january, 2014

you meet at the foot of the stairs leading up to the shrine, the air is crystalline and clear.

“happy new years,” you both say at the exact same time.

a pregnant pause, and then, you fall into the laughter, the sweet, twinkling, midnight laughter, the warm, welcoming sunrise laughter. the laughter you both grew up surrounded by because you were always, always with each other and nothing has ever been so easy as falling back into this.

“know what you’re gonna wish for?” you ask.

suga grins, bumping you with his shoulder, “i’ve got an idea, you?”

you glance at him and bump him back.

“i’ve got an idea.”

february, 2009

“i got in! i can’t believe i actually got in! i’m going to the karasuno high!”

he waves an acceptance letter in your face, the morning air still cold enough to sting. but the sun is rising behind him and you smile at him like the first breath of spring. he freezes, something clunking clumsily inside his chest like a pair of sneakers tossed into a washing machine.

“you… you made it too, right?” he asks, cautiously, because there’s no way that you’re not going to the same high school as him, right?

you lilt your head to one side, your grin calcifying into something he’s always knew he loved in the space between his chest and his stomach.

“guess,” you say, sidestepping him on the sidewalk even as he nearly stumbles to follow after you.

“of course you did! i-it’d be stupid if you didn’t.”

he levels himself with you and you cast him sidelong glance, holding his gaze just long enough for him to doubt, to blush, to look away.

“it sure would be, huh.”

march, 2016

“so… education, huh?” you tuck a strand of hair behind you ear, the first buds of spring clinging to the winter-bare branches like beads of morning dew.

“yeah… i think i — i’d like to try. y’know… shaping young minds and all that.”

“hm…” you prop your cheek on the heel of your hand, “you’d make a wonderful teacher.”

silence. you sip at your lavender latte, him at his cappuccino.

“i… think i’d like kids… eventually someday.” he licks his lips, his entire body flushing with heat. he wonders if it’s a good idea to be having caffeine so late in the day but you laugh and he looks up and the smile on your face makes everything worth it.

“y’know… i think i do too.”

april, 2010

“if we win this next practice match, will you go out with me?”

he’s smiling, but you can see the corner of his eyes drawing down in that nervous tick of his, hear the way his voice trembles, ever so slightly.

“no.”

suga blinks, somewhere inside him, he thinks he hears the sound of his heart shattering into a million irreparable pieces.

“n…o?”

you shake your head, “i don’t want us to hinge on the outcome of a volleyball match.”

“then… what do you want us to hinge on?”

may, 2018

“hey, what do you want for your birthday this year?”

you walk down lantern-lit street, hand in hand, your faces illuminated by all the dancing matsuri lights.

“hmm… i’ll only tell you if you promise to say yes.”

you pause, you turn to face him and he turns to face you, and neither of you wonders if you say a wish aloud, whether it'll actually come true. of course it will, because you'll make it so, no matter if the wish was made on a falling star or a birthday candle or just in the spaces between two fated souls.

there’s an entire stampede of wild horses thundering across the plains of your heart and suga smiles like he knows exactly what you're feeling.

“okay… i’ll say yes. as a birthday present,” you say, biting down the feeling of the entire universe shifting around you, of time itself slowing down to watch this moment play out, of destiny tugging on the strings that had always conducted you both. one, and then the other, dancing, circling around just this moment.

suga takes a breath before he drops to one knee.

“marry me.”

june, 2012

“happy birthday!!! c’mon close your eyes and make a wish!”

you cheer as suga squeezes his eyes shut over his folded fingers, and then a second later, blows out eighteen multi-colored candles. everyone cheers around him, the entire volleyball team is there, and you'd all spent hours papering the locker-room ceiling in green plastic stars. but still, he only has eyes for you.

“cake! cake! cakeee!” hinata shouts, bouncing around as daichi rummages around the bakery bag for the plastic cake-cutting knife.

“what did you wish for?” you ask, bumping your shoulder against his, even as suga blushes, licking his lips with a sly little grin.

“can’t tell you.”

“why?”

(because i wished for you.)

“cause then, it won’t come true.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #sugawara x reader #suga x reader #sugwara koushi x reader #sugawara koushi x you #sugawara koushi scenario #sugawara koushi imagine #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu x you #haiCUTIES #this... was hard to write; i won't lie im out of practice but im still pretty happy with how this turned out!#floofy floof floof #sugawara koushi

144 notes · View notes

hatsukeii · 6 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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kyuuppi · 2 years ago

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Okay last post before I go to bed and stop clogging your dashes, I'm sowwy :,)

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selarina · 2 years ago

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Out of Style

-> Suna Rintaro x Fem!Reader

Chapter 2: Digitial Duet

Summary: The following night, Suna can't help but find himself lured by your online persona.

Content Warnings: celebrity au, rockstar!suna rintaro, actress!reader, online interactions, band dynamics, fluff, sexual undertones, mention of smoking, character study, sensual imagery, eventual smut

Word Count: 1.7k words

Author's Note: I'm ngl lead singer!atsumu does things to me.... also, bonus points for you if you guess what osamu, aran and kita's roles are in the band

Series Masterlist | Read on AO3

Suna’s public account is filled with carefully curated images sent by his publicist, or sometimes it is simply just posted by a poor intern whose only job is analyzing and curating his online presence. He tried maintaining a sense of autonomy at first. After all, he only becomes a star after being on social media for quite a while. He quite liked it, the unseriousness of it all but too many sites have risen and fallen since then, and he’s realized he might be too old or too busy to get used to the new features.

So… Suna’s not one to spend a lot of time on social media, barring the one private Instagram account his sister, Reiko, set up for him. It’s private, it has the only photo ever posted on the account — a selfie of him and his sister from the same day she set the account up. She’s smiling at the camera, perfectly posed while he’s right behind her, his face is twisted, caught off guard. You could say he was objectively ugly in the photo.

Hmm? He stares down at the picture. Seems like he never really deleted it. He switches to his public account.

His eyes move to scan his phone screen for a brief second before he finds it. He’s still not used to how different everything is from the last time he used this app, and it’s only been two weeks. How can you change so much in so little time? And why would you even?

His finger taps to reach the search option, his fingers moving to type in your name. Immediately, he gets a list of results — a verified account on top with a profile picture of you. He looks at the rest of the accounts below yours, a list of fan accounts of you.

He clicks on your account.

When the screen finally opens, Suna is accosted by your familiar face, scattered across the range of tiny boxes.

He clicks on the first picture that catches his immediate eye, it’s a picture of you sitting outside an establishment. Your shoes are scattered beside you as you smile sweetly at the screen. He smiles.

Your profile actually looks like photos you are posting yourself, but well, so does his, he thinks. Frowning, he scrolls, and he scrolls. He feels like an intruder as his scrolling continues, but he can’t seem to stop for some reason. The photos are like a collection of your life — it’s full of photos of you, your friends, co-stars, your sister, and your cat. Sometimes, the occasional movie promotion, a fashion event, or something like that.

And then he stumbles upon it, it’s a photo of you wrapped in a blazer, as the rain pours in the foreground. And you — you’re twisting your head ever so slightly to address the camera directly with your eyes, and you manage to hold his eyes to yours for quite a well somehow. He can’t help but think if your lips are purposefully quirked with a ghost of a smile. He lingers far longer than he’d care to admit but eventually, he scrolls again, as one does.

Only to wash away his opinion of you, he says. Only to get accustomed and to get rid of this new feeling, he says.

He then stops at another picture, a promotional picture, but it’s not for your movie. It’s for this band. Scarlet Riot.

He remembers this band, during a meeting where his manager was very upset with the band for Scarlet Riot’s new single surpassing his band, Black Velvet’s single on the rankings. He remembers dozing off during the meeting and being forcefully woken up again, and again, and again until the manager had enough and sent him back home. He happily accepted.

He doesn’t know anything about Scarlet Riot, apart from the fact that they are apparently cut from the same cloth as his band but yes, he notices how there isn’t much visible. Not your face, not the guy’s face but he seems to be holding you and your very lightly covered body — just you in your bra, and your underwear to be candid.

The said faceless guy is clothed entirely with one hand grasping the small of your back, and the other one holding your leg up as you seem to lift it in tandem.

He immediately clicks off the post, switching to his official account as he searches for your profile.

His hands hover for a second over the send button before he clicks on it.

To be fair, he isn’t technically lying in his texts because he is now rewatching your movie to drown out the anticipation of your response, but at the moment he only had enough heed to hit send on the message then, and he didn’t know how long that would last.

He eyes his abandoned phone on the teak table in front of him, as he watches your movie. It currently has a conversation between two guys in the movie, and honestly, he couldn’t care less about them.

He couldn’t help it. He looked up the video, and he admits he can find himself agreeing with the rest of the 14 million people who seem to find the appeal. He pauses the video, and it pauses at a picture-worthy shot if he could say so himself — your eyes are heavy-lidded resulting in a sultry expression, akin to a languid panther moving through the tall grass, that makes something primal rake right beneath the confines of his body.

H clicks off from the video, turning off his phone as he unpauses your movie continuing to chomp on the rest of his pasta.

—

The next day, Suna found himself on auto-pilot making his way through the band's rehearsal studio. The place was cramped and confining — just as he secretly liked. It’s always overfilled with a diversified jumble of instruments, amps, and other recording equipment.

He adjusts his guitar strap as he began the process of plugging his instrument in. He’s early today, so it affords him the opportunity to observe as his bandmates and studio staff trickle in, one by one, as he sips on his coffee. He’s not usually a fan of hot beverages, preferring cooler, or lukewarm drinks but today, he needs the searing warmth to keep him from biting off his bandmates’ heads.

Atsumu, the drummer, finally saunters in with his signature impish grin that sent a surge of irritation coursing through Suna's veins. It’s just lack of sleep talking, he reassures himself as Atsumu takes a seat near him seating himself behind the drum set.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," Atsumu quipped, his voice cutting through the studio's ambient hum Suna grew comfortable in.

Suna's retort was swift, a deadpan stare, as he took another sip. "Don't call me that.”

“Well, you look the part.” Atsumu remained undeterred, as he reclined against the seat, a smirk etched upon his features.

Suna doesn’t respond, his attention returning to the coffee cup, as he took another sip.

“Where's everyone else?” Suna set aside the guitar, carefully placing his chair as he weaved through to discard the now-empty cup into the bin.

"Aran’s out for a smoke. Osamu’s stuck in traffic, surprise surprise. Kita’s at a shoot. He should be late today," Atsumu replied.

Suna's response was a barely discernible hum as he sat back in his chair. He occupied himself with tuning his guitar, his fingers moving with practiced familiarity, attuned to the nuances of each string.

They continued to wait in silence, Atsumu’s soft humming withheld. Not that Suna particularly took issue with it, in fact, it was a bit soothing to exist in his space, until Atsumu spoke again that is.

"So, you seemed to have an interesting night.” Atsumu's tone was teasing, his words laden with an underlying implication that Suna found distinctly annoying.

A warning glint flickered through Suna's eyes, his response lax but firm. "No idea what you’re talking about."

Atsumu leaned back against his seat, a smile playing on his lips. "Oh, come on now. We all saw you last night. Never knew you could physically bring yourself to smile."

Suna's eyes narrowed. “We were just talking.”

Atsumu barely hummed in response, but Suna’s annoyance seemed to seep back under his skin – he didn't want to engage in this conversation, especially not with Atsumu, who generally had a talented knack for pushing his buttons early in the morning.

Atsumu waggled his eyebrows as they raise up. "So, what kind of talkin' were ya doin', hmm?"

Suna shot a sharp look at Atsumu, his fingers pausing his task on the guitar. "None of your business."

“Okay,” Atsumu responds and Suna’s relieved. For all his many complaints about Atsumu, he truly does know how to read people, and as much as he seemed to like pushing boundaries, he never truly seemed to cross them.

“Just be careful,” Atsumu speaks up, Atsumu's tone was tinged with a rare sincerity. Suna finds it a bit too jarring like he’s an alternate reality.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just — Relationships with other people like us never truly work out, ya know.”

“I know,” Suna responds, as his eyes flit down to his guitar. Suna's fingers slipped on the strings, creating a dissonant sound.

Atsumu sighs as his voice comes out in a subdued murmur, “I should know better than anyone,” before Osamu's voice carries from outside to inside the studio, disrupting the momentary exchange.

Osamu walks through pushing the entry door as he stomps over to where they are.

“Get off my seat, ya imp,” he says, tossing his back to the side before he proceeds to push Atsumu off the chair, and almost like he was slapped out of it — Atsumu’s back to his usual self as his hands rise up to pull Osamu’s hair.

At the backdrop of the familiar dance between Osamu and Atsumu, Suna pulls out of his phone and the muted buzz against his thigh.

Ping! His eyes flit up to the top of his phone. It’s you. He clicks on the notification.

yn_ln : sorry i passed out but wow, flattery and a movie review?

yn_ln : i'm honored

Suna smirks as he taps on the screen. His fingers seem to type out a reply before he's even fully aware of it.

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