#haikyuu x you

[haikyu-mp4]

the doctor let the ultrasound machine roam over your stomach and three sets of eyes were stuck on the monitor showing your growing baby in your stomach. tears welled in your eyes as you turned to your husband, only to find him wearing the same look as he clutched your hand.

eventually, the ultrasound was over and the doctor started to wipe the gel off, giving instructions on the next consultations.

that’s when your man decided to be a lil goofy.

“when do we send in the application for boy or girl? we haven't really decided yet.”

both you and the doctor deadpanned, looking at him in disappointment. “that’s-”

“a joke, obviously you can't... choose that. ignore me.”

–this might be Suna but I can't decide

[popchrries]

for all my haikyuu (esp iwa) lovers, check out this series <33 it’s amazing!!!

SO KEEP A POKER FACE !

check it out: nightwing is apparently the sexiest vigilante according to the gotham times! being the most loved socialite in tokyo gets you into loads of trouble, and he's saved you on multiple occasions. speaking of trouble… why can't iwaizumi hajime be more like him?

TAGS timeskip smau, hero au, f!reader, rivals to lovers, he fell first, world building, written parts, found family, drama drama drama

WARNINGS language, alc + cigs, some angst, miscommunications and misunderstandings, flawed (realistic) characters, some side characters are OCs (plot drivers or an inside joke between me & my friends /pos), allusions to drug use/abuse & depression, crude humor but no smut, some major deaths. check for each chapter!

SERIES ONGOING - REPLY TO THIS POST TO BE TAGGED (30/50)

table of contents written part indicated by a ✯ next to the chapter title

SNOOP AROUND: y/n’s phone┇iwaizumi’s phone

OO1: NUNCHUCKS ✯

OO2: PACIFIERS FOR GROWN MEN

OO3: LEVERAGE ✯

OO4: HEADSTONES AND LANDMINES

OO5: PALE BLUE EYES

OO6: LOADING . . .

PLAYLISTS ⎯⎯⎯ poker face // adonis // aphrodite

or: all good romances start with a little blackmailing, right?

DON’T KNOW OUR HERO? GET FAMILIAR.

[fatimabb]

Tsukishima had always been one to keep his distance, maintaining that casual disinterest that somehow added to his charm.

With others, he had a snarky remark ready for any situation, coupled with an eyeroll and a dismissive shrug. He wasn’t known to be warm or kind; he was the “too cool to care” guy, perfectly content with his headphones on, drowning out the world. But with you? Things were different—though he’d rather die than admit it.

Sure, he still teased you. If anything, it was a constant in your relationship. Tsukishima had a sharp tongue, and he used it to his full advantage, often poking fun at your quirks. If you tripped over your words or forgot something, he’d smirk, crossing his arms and saying something like, “Oh? Someone’s a bit clumsy today, aren’t they?” But somehow, his tone with you was softer, the edges smoothed out. Where he’d normally be ruthless with others, with you, there was an unmistakable gentleness in the way he teased, a hint of something almost protective.

For example, if you struggled with homework, he’d sigh dramatically, pretending to be annoyed. “Are you actually incapable of doing basic math?” he’d say with a roll of his eyes, but then, without hesitation, he’d scoot his chair closer to yours, patiently explaining the problem step-by-step. His sarcasm was there, yes, but he’d never let you feel dumb, taking his time until you fully understood, even though he tried to hide how much he actually enjoyed helping you.

In group settings, he’d usually make sarcastic comments or keep to himself, but whenever you were around, he was more engaged, paying attention to your reactions specifically. If he cracked a joke, he’d glance at you to see if you laughed, as if your reaction was the only one that mattered. And if someone else tried to tease you? He’d step in with his signature deadpan stare, immediately making them back off, even though he’d deny doing it for your sake.

Then there were the little things he did for you, almost unconsciously. If it was cold outside, he’d offer you his scarf, grumbling, “It’s pathetic that you didn’t bring one.” But he’d linger just long enough to make sure you were properly bundled up, a soft smile tugging at his lips when you weren’t looking. And when you’d thank him, he’d shrug it off like it was nothing, feigning nonchalance, though you swore you saw a faint blush dusting his cheeks.

And the sweetest difference was in the way he’d listen to you. With others, he was often distracted, nodding out of politeness but clearly disinterested. With you, though, he was attentive. He’d remember little things you mentioned—your favorite snack, a song you couldn’t get out of your head, the small details you liked about movies. Sometimes he’d surprise you by bringing you that snack or sending you a message saying, “Found that song you mentioned. It’s not bad, I guess.” It was his quiet way of showing he cared, though he’d brush it off if you pointed it out.

And maybe the most telling moment came when you were feeling down one day. You didn’t even have to tell him; he could just tell. Without a word, he sat beside you, his usual sarcastic remarks softened to gentle teasing, trying to coax a smile from you. “You look ridiculous when you pout.”

notes: ugh i live for soft tsuki 🥹🥹

[miiyas]

OMG OMG OMG Imagine a world where you are an olympic champion figure skater and your boyfriend is miya freaking atsumu 🤧🤧

YES YES YES !! tsumu has grown the habit of either skipping or missing half of practice just to go visit you and see your practices. he’ll miss practice to watch your competitions and be the loudest cheerleader ever (and get a good smack on the head by coach the next day for missing out).

he’s the type to carry everything for you. your skates, your bag, anything. he’d always always give you his jacket after your practice, claiming that he’s been keeping it warm for you before placing kisses on your frozen knuckles. i feel like tsumu likes to call you a ‘pretty fairy on ice’ with the way you glide and twirl around. omg and this guy’s done for when he sees you in your uniform all dazzled up and pretty🙂‍↕️

good luck kisses are always always exchanged during warm-ups and before games/competitions— you guys don’t know what you’d do without them ! you’d give him a good kiss before he’s on the court and tsumu would give you one before your skates touch the ice, sneaking past your coach just to do so.

[shouyuus]

if... if it's still open for requests, i wanted to request a short drabble of akaashi? maybe something to do with rain :) happy birthday!! -- @anonymilk

30 under 30 bday event! (now closed!)

even the rain

akaashi; fluff; thank u for requesting bby!!!! i hope u like this u__u u know i love a good rainy day fic!!!

─── 京治 IT IS RAINING WHEN he kisses you for the very first time, under the awning of a corner store, a steaming hot pork bun caught between your fingers, the wax-paper crinkling as he slips the bun from your hand, if only to keep it from dropping onto the rain-slick pavement.

“A-Akaashi-kun?” his name tastes like salt and scallions.

He pulls back with a sheepish grin, eyes flickering down to the bun, the marks of your teeth and his caught one next to the other in the fluffy white dough.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

“Ah — I wasn’t —” you press your lips, feeling a blush tickling at your cheeks as you scuff your feet. “It’s fine,” you finally manage, glancing back up only to look away again as he catches your eyes.

“It’s just… I’ve been wanting to do that for a while, and… it seemed like a good time.”

“Oh,” is all you can manage.

The sound of an umbrella rustling makes you look up again; Akaashi offers you a grin as he hands the bun back to you.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you home. Eat up, before it gets cold.”

You take the bun between your hands, feel the warmth seep into your fingertips as you both step out into the rapidly darkening street.

“Once we get there,” you say after a few minutes of walking in companionable silence, “can we try again?”

“Try… again?”

You turn towards him with a bright blush, offering him the remaining half of the bun.

“Yeah. That’s what people do when they walk their girlfriends home, right? Kiss them goodbye?”

Akaashi blinks at you for a second before reaching out to take the bun, letting out a soft laugh. He casts his eyes up toward the storm-ridden sky and smiles.

“Yeah, we can.”

final wc: 321 || be part of my taglist!

taglist: @yaoduriaa @ominouslywritinginmyhead @naomihatake @cheesypuffkins87 @crispynutella @dira333 @stunies @fennecnco @simpingdailyforthem

[madlyney]

this would happen to Tooru Oikawa too actually now that I think about it😭 the friends being the other Seijoh4

Just thinking about how Satoru claims that he’s very photogenic. 

Little did he know, you have a whole album of the most goofiest and stupid pictures of him. All secretly taken by you (and some by Shoko and his students).

one day he makes fun of you with a picture of you and you show him your album—your prized possession. He sulked the entire week.

“that’s not me.”

“do you want a closer look?”

“get your phone away from me.”

[ennoshitas-princess]

Kageyama is looked at his peers and teammates as a reserved person who CANNOT express himself in no way possible, even if he tried. One day, as Hinata and Yachi were walking along to the gym for practice, they came face to face with the blue eyed setter standing under a tree with you standing right in front of him, tucking a strand of your luscious hair behind your ear, smiling widely as he stared at you with adoration.

"You are simply wonderfully precious, you know that?"

The two just dropped their jaws to the floor, shocked to see the emotionless setter with a girl. They wanted to check if he had a fever, but kept their feet glued on the ground.

"You tell me that everyday, Tobio."

"Well, if I had the chance I would give you all the stars in the night sky to measure this deep adoration I have for you, but yet, I feel like it will never be enough..."

The two giggled at what Kageyama had said to you. It felt like this wasn't the Kageyama they knew.

Their eyes glanced to see him pulling your plush body into his arms as he kissed the top of your head.

Yeah, as you could imagine Hinata and Yachi told the team. For Hinata, he was not welcomed by a nice Kageyama...

All rights reserved copyright © 2024 ennoshitas-princess

Please DO NOT repost on any other platform!!

Reblogs are acceptable

[cottonlemonade]

Payback

word count: 932 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.

pairing: university AU!Kyoutani x chubby!Reader

genre: fluffy-ish spice, established relationship

warnings: mdni, very suggestive

request: fluffy spice, 2.16 a.m. with boyfriend Kyoutani

It was very late and Kyoutani jumped a little when he heard the soft taps of your elaborate knock routine on his door. To be fair there was little need for secrecy. Mostly because his friend in the adjacent room was still playing games, evident by the occasional cursing he could clearly hear through the wall.

Earlier today on impulse Kyoutani had suggested you should come over to stay with him after finishing up at the library so you wouldn‘t have to go the whole way back to your dorm on the other side of campus. It was all in the name of safety, obviously, and only slightly motivated by the thought of having your warm body next to him in bed.

The previously mentioned friend very intentionally eavesdropped on this conversation and he had not let Kyoutani go before a lot of hollering and an equal amount of suggestive comments. But when the permanently scowling ace, who had driven away any potential roommate with his less than sunny predisposition, didn‘t reply to any of it, his friend had loudly concluded that Kyoutani was probably not a very good lover anyway and so he shouldn‘t assume that anything spicy would happen.

Your boyfriend frowned when he smelled the familiar scent of your shampoo as he opened the door to let you in.

“I thought ya were gonna come straight over.“ He couldn‘t suppress the pout in his voice. If you would have told him he would have walked you back to your dorm.

You smiled and stood on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck when the door closed behind you.

“I know, I‘m sorry. But I had to get my Pyjamas, and a quick shower was too tempting and- are you mad?“

“Tch... no.“

“You sure?“

He was very glad that the darkness of his room masked the blush on his cheeks that usually appeared whenever you got affectionate with him - so, all the time.

His hands came to rest on your waist, giving your generous love handles a gentle squeeze when he finally returned your kisses. To be honest, he was fully intending to just have you tightly wrapped in his arms all night but the softness of your lips, the tantalizing smell of magnolia, and your body pressed against his all gave him a different idea. Still kissing you, he walked backward until he hit the bed. You pulled away and in the faint glow of the lanterns outside in the courtyard, he could see you smile and search his eyes in silent question.

He replied by sitting down at the foot of his bed, pulling you on top of him to straddle his lap. With fanned-out fingers, he held tight onto your pudgy thighs while you cupped his face to continue the kiss. With a quiet sigh, you brushed your tongue along his bottom lip and he readily opened his mouth for you. Once again you broke away but only to take off your shirt and toss it somewhere into a corner. His breathing stop for a moment.

You had to give him credit that he kept his eyes fixed on your face even with your breasts right in front of him, although his hands were a different matter entirely.

He leaned in to kiss you again, pulling you closer with every increasingly desperate noise. Sure enough, his breathing soon became shallower, his movements needier, grabbing you harder than before to get more friction between you. He ran his lips over your neck, letting one hand wander up your back to hold you in place while he dipped lower again, marking every bit of skin on your breasts he could reach.

You pushed him down onto the bed, careful not to lose contact while you made your way up to the headboard, shimmying out of your sweats. You were lying on your side now, enjoying the effect you had on your boyfriend. Your fingertips traced the veins in his arms and you sighed in contentment at the kisses he set on your shoulder and neck.

Considerably out of breath you decided to tease him and turned your back to him. Your delighted giggles told him it was safe to move in close and it wasn’t long before you felt him push against you. Smiling privately, you ground against him, pretending you were just shifting for comfort. But Kyoutani wasn’t having it. His large cold hands grabbed the inside of your thigh and lifted your leg to lay over his own, leaving you very exposed and very aware of what he was planning.

At first, his hand only ghosted over you, testing the waters to see if you would object. When you didn’t, he applied a bit more pressure, circling his thumb with alternating force against you. You didn’t even have time to get impatient. Kyoutani kissed and nibbled at your neck when he pushed your panties aside to pay you back for your teasing. He touched you for what felt like hours, slowing when he felt you were close and adding his second hand to play with your nipples to drive you insane.

No more cursing was coming from the room next door. When Kyoutani finally decided to let you cum, you put a hand over your mouth to muffle the sounds, not wanting to alert the entire floor to what was happening, but he, overcome by lust, defiance and what could only be classified as temporary insanity, pulled your hand away and murmured “Let him hear you.” while he smirked against your skin.

a/n: thank you to the anon who requested this prompt! No worries, you did it perfectly! ^^ I hope you enjoyed it 🌟

for requests see here

[mae-gi-writes]

let it be me | kuroo tetsurou (2)

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

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

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

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

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

"He can't be serious."

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

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

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

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

"How would you know that?"

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

"Who is in love, mum?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So who's the lucky guy?"

"Atsumu."

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

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

"And how do you know him?"

"He's Sakura's PE coach."

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

"Shut up."

"So you like him?"

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

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

"You just think he's cute?"

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

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

You hum in response.

“I think you should get laid—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mum, what does ‘getting laid’ mean?”

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

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

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

————

It’s weird when Sakura isn’t around.

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

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

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

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

“Coach?”

“Kosuke-san?”

You both stare. And stare.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing be to be sorry about.”

“So… the name Kosuke…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

————

"Kuroo sensei! He stole my ball!"

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

"Kuroo sensei!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Kuroo goes back to daydreaming.

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

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

"--Earth to Kuroo?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The words burst out of his mouth without warning:

“I think I like someone.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's not funny!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm sorry--"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why's that?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

————

How did you end up here?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It draws blood.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Language," you tsk at him.

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

"Yeah okay," you mumble.

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

"Thanks mom."

"Anytime hun."

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

"Yeah, try to get laid okay--"

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

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

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

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

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

"Like...maybe four years ago?"

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

"I'll try my best."

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

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

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

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

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

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

You turn to see Kuroo’s warm golden orbs.

“All okay?” He mouths to you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That’s when you notice.

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

Then you see him.

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

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

Why is he looking at you like that?

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

The kind that wants to strip you bare.

It’s unsetttling, unnerving.

Disgusting.

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

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

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

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

“Kosuke-san, everything alright?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You stumble into him, “Kuroo sensei—“

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

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

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

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

“He’s gone, Kosuke-san.”

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

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

“You okay?” Is what he whispers.

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

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

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

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

———

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Where do you live?"

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

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

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

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

"I know, but--"

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

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

[mrs-kodzuken]

hard to desire ⨟ kenma k.

chapter seven

stay ari abdul

❝I hope I occupy your mind

No one deserves you, yeah you're mine

Only with you I feel alive

If you leave me here, I'll die❞

The layout of the hotel was simple, sleek and seemed perfect for two adults, except those adults would have to be in a relationship if there was only one bed—or close family members.

Strangely, you didn’t feel the least bit mad though, a bit overwhelmed with the whole gas leak situation and the fact that the receptionist lied to your face but other than that, it was like you were at home.

But tonight, you’d be sharing a bed with Kenma—and you both weren’t family nor very close; it kick-started a flutter in your heart.

You watched him gazing around the room, skipping over the other living human being too as he stuck certain things to mind, like which side of the room the bathroom was at, where the remote to the TV was placed, where you were staring at him from and so on.

Kenma didn’t know how to feel, especially about rooming with the girl he actually realized he has a miniscule—huge—crush for. 

Kenma was hoping—alongside you as well—that tonight wouldn’t make anything more strange between the both of you, however, he could almost guess that it would be the case for the night. 

Kuroo stayed at an Airbnb with his friends, Bokuto, Akaashi and other high school friends you had never met—you had taken the liberty yourself to ask—so, you had no choice but to stay in the hotel room with Kenma.

You weren’t complaining too much though because you had become more comfortable with him over this past week, so it didn’t bother you too much. Especially when you learned to put the whole ‘he masturbated to the thought of you’ out of your head, that did leave lingering feelings of a schoolgirl crush. It’s not like you would ever admit it though. 

“So…” You trailed on to Kenma, “What do we do now?” You looked up from your standing spot, the hotel looked really nice.

You haven’t been to a hotel since your last vacation with your parents too. You tried to not be awkward with Kenma, flashes of your last talks with Akaashi were still fresh and at this point, you were too chicken to admit your feelings for Kenma.

“I guess just lounge til we're tired...?” He questioned, because that’s what he mostly does when his days off align with work and college. Now with you taking up even those rare days too, he needed a little quiet time in his head.

Kenma plopped down on the nearby, small sofa and pulled out his phone. You took that as a sign that he didn’t want to talk and then rolled your eyes. 

“Okay, Kenma,” You responded, opening up Pinterest yourself. You didn’t like sitting in mere silence either, it was practically deafening—it made you uncomfortable. So, you realized after so long, you had been rambling to Kenma about the things you were viewing on Pinterest.

“Oh, I think I like this picture better though, it has ribbons on the screen unlike the last one, but the last one was super cute too, though…” You trailed, scrolling between two lockscreens on your phone.

You just couldn’t decide, and all Kenma could respond with was a “Mhm.”

That was until you found a quiz, “Hey, wait! Should I take this quiz that’ll tell me what kind of bread I am? I hope I’m sourdough, it’s delicious.” You asked Kenma, hoping this time he’ll respond. 

He looked up from his phone to see you sprawled out on the bed, claiming it as yours. You looked cute as hell; Kenma couldn’t not soften his gaze from the random rambling you’ve been doing for the past hour.

“I think you’d be a sweet bread,” he said, not realizing how it sounded out loud until your head snapped up to meet his eyes that were trailed on your body.

“Like a coffee one because you drink it so often,” He hurried to add, alongside giving a fake snort to make it seem like a joke. Kenma didn’t want to be the person to initiate the conversation you both have been waiting for, but the buildup of talking was more nerve racking than seeing what was on the other side. 

After that bit, you didn’t speak anymore but put on a random TV show that was on, after Kenma’s compliment, you were in your head about how you needed to say something—anything—to him about your feelings.

However, with the way he looks at you, so kind now, as if you both are dear friends, you just can’t. Not to mention, when he’s helpful or does things for you just because he wants to with no ulterior motives.

That’s what makes you swoon for him, and it sucked for you. Between the hours from then and now, it was a comfortable silence, Kenma had turned the side table lamp on instead of the big, overhead light.

You had completed the last bit of homework that needed to be done so you could relax for the rest of fall break, and you watched Kenma—without him knowing—turn his phone horizontal. 

Watching his expressions when he was focused was mesmerizing to you, you couldn’t look away from him. Kenma’s appearance was also just one of those things that had you swallowing hard and clenching your thighs together, as much as you won’t admit.

Like a hawk though, the first yawn that escapes your mouth, he’s up. “Come on, I’ll order some dinner while you get ready for bed.” Kenma breaks you out of your trance-like state, not bothering that you are too tired to eat now.

“I don’t want to, I’m tired now,” You rolled over onto your face, your voice coming out muffled from the pillow.

“I don’t care, you’re eating. Get in the shower and don’t make me repeat myself.” You peeked from your pillow to him turned around, his backside facing you.

The rush of butterflies and urge in your lower abdomen was breathtaking. You never knew that Kenma could be assertive, but then again, you knew certain parts of him—only little tid-bits that he wanted you to know.

“Okay, fine.” You grumbled, trying to hide your flushed face with your hair as you trudged to the bathroom with your bag that you packed.

You could slightly hear him through the door, ordering dinner for the both of you, you did like that Kenma cared for you, it sent a rush of no other through your body. 

After your relaxing shower, you were met with dinner, it was something simple, but Kenma knew your favorites after living with you for so long.

“Thank you, Kenma.” You smiled, happy that you were eating, having not realized that you were even hungry.

“Don’t mention it.” He stated, scrolling on his phone before throwing away the scraps of his food.

“I’m going to shower; I’ll sleep on the floor when I’m back.” He said, not turning back and was about to close the white door.

“Hey, what? No, you’re not. The floor is going to be uncomfortable to sleep on, you can’t.” You said confused, the bed was big enough, and more, for the both of you.

“No, seriously, I’m fine with the flo-”

“Do you not want to sleep with me? I showered, you know. I’m not dirty.” You were taking offense to his refusal, it’s not like you weren’t clean either.

“Oh my God, fine. I’ll sleep in the bed with you, okay?” He looked exasperated but couldn’t get over you asking if he didn’t want to sleep with you. 

God, you were going to be the death of him, he thought as he shut the door behind him with a hard on. When he took his hair out of his ponytail, he ran a hand through it, trying to relieve the stress from the too tight hair tie.

But, of course, he knew that the hair tie wasn’t the problem, it was his dick. Closing his eyes, he couldn’t believe what he was about to do, especially with you on the other side of the door. Kenma turned on the shower, almost burning hot, just the way he liked it.

The thoughts of you filled his head, the way you laid on the bed, how comfortable you looked, asking you to sleep with him, you with your sleep clothes on. It was all becoming too much as his hand strayed towards his reddening cock, he slowly breathed, hoping to keep the noise down or that it would be muffled by the shower so your ears wouldn’t hear.

He would be painfully embarrassed if you knew that he got off to you, especially when you’re right through the door. 

Kenma couldn’t help but to tightly shut his eyes as his hand squeezed his needy cock, God, he needed you, he craved making you his so he wouldn’t have to do this anymore.

His hand pumped up and down his dick rapidly, the slight papping noise of his hand hitting his skin making the illusion that the both of you were having sex.

He groaned loudly, his orgasm that he was trying to get away from, hitting him hard making his hips buck for more. Kenma tried to catch his breath in the deathly hot shower, almost suffocating as he watched his liquid be swallowed by the drain.

He immediately turned the shower cold as ice and hoped that you didn’t hear him as he finally started his ministrations of cleaning himself. 

However, you on the other side of the door didn’t give Kenma any more thoughts when you heard a small clap of thunder reach your ears.

That was enough for you to focus on pulling up the weather app and hope that it wasn’t what you thought it was. Of course, to your demise, it was, and that only made things worse for you in particular.

You immediately grabbed the TV remote and wrapped it up inside the blankets so Kenma would have no choice but to watch something that would help you get through this night. And so, when you heard the shower stop, you gripped the remote a bit more and waited for Kenma to get out of the bathroom.

When the door creaked open, Kenma couldn’t help but to feel regretful that you’re in here bundled up because it’s storming outside, and he was in the bathroom masturbating to you.

However, he didn’t expect to see the kids show ‘Bluey’ playing on the large hotel TV screen very loud and proud though. Great, that’s something he’s going to have to listen to for the rest of the night. 

He side-eyed you, to let you know he didn’t want to be watching this but the look you gave him was basically saying ‘remember what happened like a week ago’ so, he concluded the best thing to say was nothing.

“Are you okay? Is the storm making you nervous to where you can’t sleep?” He asked, climbing into the bed, trying to fend for some of the covers that you took.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I know you probably don’t want to be watching this.” You shifted your eyes, feeling bad but preferred if you weren’t scared and crying all throughout the night.

Thunderstorms were something you hated, you couldn’t help but to be afraid of them, it probably stemmed from your childhood.

“It’s okay, try to get some sleep,” Was all Kenma said as you got comfortable, however Kenma on the other hand, didn’t. If he wanted more cover and not shiver all night as well as turn the TV down, he’d have to get closer to you in bed.

He decides to bite the bullet, and just scoot closer, what harm could there be? 

As he got comfortable, he didn’t expect you to snuggle up closer to him, especially when you were more than likely asleep. He took that chance to grab the remote and turn the TV down a bit, it was hurting from how loud it was.

When Kenma finally settled back down, he realized how close you both were, he could feel how fast his heart was beating in your presence, not to mention that his dick was half hard even though he masturbated in the shower.

Kenma could feel his face flushing as he listened to your breathing, it was soft as he counted your breaths in and out. He definitely would not be able to sleep now, especially when the girl he’s been hateful crushing on is snuggled up right next to him.

Adamant to not make this night something sexual, especially since you’re afraid of thunderstorms, he holds you close like he did that night in your bed.

The rain sounds mixed in with the even breaths of you was soothing enough to probably let him sleep—if you didn’t shuffle around every five seconds. 

It almost gives him a heart attack every so often when you shift in your sleep because besides being interested in a kids show, he keeps peering down at you and soft smiling, not being able to help it.

Kenma didn’t realize how long a kids show could actually be, especially when it just kept playing each episode without pause. He reached for the remote, eyes heavy, body wishing to sleep, and mind foggy, hoping to turn it off because it was practically two in the morning by that point.

That was until you stirred, waking up due to the lack of sound, in which Kenma pretends to be asleep, hoping that you didn’t catch him pretending.

All he heard from you was subtle mumbling about how he ‘shouldn’t touch the volume’ and to ‘mind his manners’. That was when he rolled his eyes while they were closed, hoping that it was enough for it to look like he was in REM sleep.

He felt you pat his cheek, trying to resist the rosiness that usually happens during close contact like this. When you shuffle a bit more, he peeks his eye open just very slightly, hoping to not let you see him. 

Your hair was a mess, and you looked sleepy with a cute little pout because of the volume. Kenma felt like his heart was going to burst if you didn’t go back to sleep soon.

That was, until you kept whispering something he couldn’t hear until he focused on the sound and not your looks, “Kenma, I felt like a little creep that day when I peeked at you, and I’m sorry, but it’s nice to know you like me too.” You softly spoke, just shy of a whisper, hoping to not wake him and to go back to sleep yourself.

You felt better and went back to sleep with ease because you confessed and got it off of your chest. However, Kenma on the other hand was internally in shambles, he hoped to God you weren’t talking about what he thought you were.

If he wasn’t so close to you, he’d get up and leave without another word exchanged, it was embarrassing to know that you caught him masturbating to you, if he’s thinking of the day correctly. The whole situation you put him in was horrible, notably that the Bluey theme song was playing while his world was coming apart too.

When your breathing became even again, he had to remove himself just a little way away because his face was a rubescent color and his cock was rock-hard. Kenma stayed that way with you shifting every five seconds, making every minute worse for him until he could see the sun rising through the small emerge that was left open of the black out curtains. 

However, that’s when you decide that you want to get up and greet the day, sleeping nicely all throughout the night, except when you had to get that small guilt-ridden comment off your chest.

You peered over at Kenma, feeling shy that you both were so close together last night, also because he was like a heat warmer.

Somehow, he still looked tired even when he was sleeping. “Good morning, Kenma.” You said softly, being sure to ease your way out of bed without waking him up, as well as turning off the TV for his sake.

Funnily enough, the only time Kenma was able to get some sleep was when you finally left the bed and probably were hungry for breakfast.

You, on the other hand, were ecstatic for today because this was the day that you were going to talk to Kenma, you decided it the moment you awoke from sleeping beside him. Your schoolgirl crush with him would be confronted and you’d feel so much better about getting all the feelings out instead of keeping them in. 

You’re not in the hotel room when Kenma wakes up, as true, he barely got a wink of sleep, just shy of an hour because the check out time was coming soon.

He decided to leave while he still could and not have to face you right now, it was kind of a shitty thing for him to do, he thought as he got dressed and put his shoes on. But, nevertheless, he’d see you at home anyways, Kenma just needed a little refuge for right now.

Especially since he was your refuge/safe place all night.

When Kenma’s leaving with his backpack on, there’s plenty of people in the hotel hallways, people coming back from lunch, collecting their things to check out, even the cleaning staff too. I

t was understandable that he bumped into someone, but he didn’t bother looking back in such a crowded hallway, however, he didn’t realize that the someone was you.

And if he had seen you, the confused expression on your face as to why he was leaving when you had just got his portion for breakfast and bumped into you without saying anything.

That kind of hurt your feelings as you stood there in the hotel hallway, not sure what to do. 

synopsis: it's the summer before you go to university, and you decide to become roommates with your pen pal that you've known since you were in primary. big problem arises, he's got a roommate, and it just so happens that his roommate either has a sexual want for you or hates your guts – or probably both?

a/n: hiii! i hope you like the update and enjoy :)) we're coming to an end in a few chapters, so excitinggg ! <3

tag list: @geektastic84 @lavanderdreamve @hhoneyhan @kirikeijii @marsoverthestars @nymphsdomain @justagirlnamedkai @kodzukein @74zix47 @kakuzone @jaeminaur @3lectraheart @ookamiakasuna @22marie16 @jlly1 @aldebrana @kad0o

@deftrow allowed me permission to make this/it's their idea from A03!! all i did was create a multi-chapter fic of it :) i made the banner!!

[haikyu-mp4]

Potty mouth

word count; 356 – f!reader

You were surprised when Kenma entered the living room one day with a glass bottle of your favourite soda and an unusually cartoonish smile. He asked you to please join him for his stream tonight, as he agreed to play against a popular American gamer to broaden both of their audiences.

Due to falling in love with a Japanese streamer at university, you settled in Tokyo despite being a foreigner, deciding you would probably stay for good. However, you were still nearly fluent in English.

You saw no reason why you couldn’t agree to help him.

It went well for a while, helping Kenma laugh at appropriate times to the other player’s comments, or rather making sure he didn’t laugh inappropriately.

Slowly but surely, you got invested in the game, eyebrows gradually furrowing as the foreign team ganged up against Kenma, throwing out nicknames for him that he wouldn’t exactly approve of if he properly understood them. He would probably also be too shy anyway.

Eventually, you had enough of Kenma silently taking all the comments. You grabbed the microphone from Kenma’s cheek and tilted it out to your mouth while you leaned in. “HEY!”

Several groans on the other end confirmed that they had their volumes up. Taking an artistic break, you wiggled your brows at Kenma’s monitor for some damage control on his faithful audience who were about to see your ugly side.

“MY GRANDMA COULD PLAY BETTER THAN YOU, YOU FUC-“ Let’s not write every single insult that fell from your lips any time anyone shot at your partner. Seeing his audience cheering you on and having you add comments for Kenma to get them, motivated him like never before as he plucked each of their heads and left himself the sole winner.

Chuckling softly, he took the mic back before ending the call. “Sorry. That was my wife.” His English wasn’t particularly good, but those words were said confidently.

As the stream ended, the Americans thoroughly embarrassed at their poor performance, Kenma slung his arms around you and let out a soft chuckle. “I didn’t know you were such a potty mouth.”

masterlist

[cyanhydrangea]

Warmth

Sakusa Kiyoomi x Fem! Reader

When Kiyoomi hold his wife's hands for the first time, he's surprised by how cold they were. He assumed it was out of her nervousness during their wedding ceremony.

When Kiyoomi reached out for her hand during a walk in the seashore on their honeymoon that evening, he's taken aback by how freezing they were.

"Are you cold?", Kiyoomi asked you instantly.

"Yeah...", You responded.

"Why didn't you say anything?", he's worried about you.

"I don't want to be a bother, going back to the hotel to grab a jacket is such a hassle...", You reasoned.

Kiyoomi is having none of that. He told you to stay at where you are as he's about to fetch your jacket.

He's forever grateful for what he did because when he's back to the beach, he's rewarded by a breathtaking view of your gorgeous smiling figure in an orange and purple-ish beautiful sunset sky.

Once you put on your jacket, Kiyoomi took your hand to hold once more.

"Your hand is warm, it feels nice to hold it. But my hand is cold, isn't it uncomfortable to you?", You asked as you don't want to cause a discomfort to your beloved.

"I could do this forever", Kiyoomi answered.

You giggled, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Please seek for warmth in me and only me, that includes whenever you're nervous about something. I want to be your warmth, a place you can find a comfort in"

You feel a warm fuzzy feelings inside as you heard what Kiyoomi had said. You wrapped your arms around the much taller figure of the man you get to call a husband and he returned the gesture with an endearing smile across his face.

#CyanHydrangea

Date written: 15/11/2024

[matchagirliris]

I JUMPED UP AND DOWN IN GLEE WHEN I SAW THIS!

i wuld love to go snorkeling ww ushijima before sipping on some mango strawberry mint lemonades :ppp

i love u iris!! ^^

my dear maddie i love you to death i hope you love this 🤭

marriage au bc my maddie deserves to live her happy life with ushijima by her side

happy newlyweds to our fav couple the

Mr. and Mrs. Ushijima, we hope you love our stay at the Evara resort :)

you and toshi had just gotten engaged nearly a week ago, your lovely husband proposed in greece on a beautiful balcony overlooking the gorgeous blue seas that greece has to offer, now here in buenos aires continuing the getaway since you and toshi are now engaged and he wants to spend every waking second with you, so he planned a beautiful mid afternoon noon snorkeling session in the deep blue seas of buenos aires, he knew your fondness off the ocean and wanted you to experience as many as you could. As you two are sitting on the boat ride enjoying the view and sunshine that’s shining down upon you both you can’t help but be grateful of all the memories and moments that lead up to you now fully spending the rest of your life with the man you loved. “honey you should let me put sunscreen on you before we go out to swim with the creatures” toshi says softly because he himself is already covered head to toe in sunscreen that he made you put on him before you left your guys room “ughh toshi but i wanted to tannnnn” you say whining at the statement he made “you can still tan by wearing sunscreen i just want to keep you safe my wife” he responds staring at you. oh how you melted away when he said the words my wife it was almost like putting you in a trance “mmh okay fine just because i have a husband who cares for me so deeply” you say looking at him, now he has red cheeks but very happy you agreed to his suggestion. Now as you both prepare yourself with snorkeling gear ready to venture off in the ocean, Toshi decides to plant a kiss on you before jumping into the ocean with the diving instructor. You, a little flustered now, soon jump in after not wanting to be left behind. It was beautiful the view the see the turtles and stingrays all around you guys and the beautiful lively coral reefs as you are swimming toshi decides to hold your hand while you two are swimming looking around you can’t help but feel your heart swell at how much toshi was expressing his love these past two weeks he wasn’t always the best but seeing him make such an effort made you fall in love with the man all over again. Now are your both back on the boat exhausted from the swimming activity you lay your head on toshi’s shoulder feeling extremely tired and ready for a nap you can tell he feels the same way, thankfully you guys were offered lovely and refreshing mango strawberry mint lemonades that absolutely quenched the thirst you had. Now it all hits you too, how lucky you were to have this moment and to have wakatoshi ushijima by your side.

[moechies]

“wai—wait, no tongue rinnie, i dunno—“

“relax,” suna mumbles against your lips, pressing a soft kiss against your bottom lip. “i’ll teach you, don’t worry.” you whine, embarrassed that he may find your inexperience to be a turn off. “just follow through with m’tongue okay?”

“mhmn..” you mumble, gasping when he presses his swollen lips onto yours once again. he presses himself further into your body, your legs enveloping around his waist and tugging him in. you shiver, mouth gaping wider on instinct when you feel his silky tongue slip in between your lips, running itself over yours.

it’s so fucking wet, and so hot, you can taste his sweet spit on your tongue. it makes you ache everywhere, body sparked with excitement yet nervousness. “c’mon, try.” he groans against you, letting your tongue nervously glide against his on command. he lets out a guttural groan, grinding unconsciously into your thigh, mumbling a half coherent apology before he slips his tongue back into your mouth.

he runs the hot muscle over yours, curling over and around it with messy spit beginning to coat your lips. he doesn’t slow despite your tongue faltering and clearly weakening with every stroke of his tongue against yours. “y’r so weak baby.” he chuckles, pulling away slightly.

both of your breaths are labored, your softened eyes meet his , filled with so much love that they sparkle under the dim light. his pupils seem to dialate over and over, and you can’t help but giggle at the sight.

you can still feel the heat of his breath against your lips, one of his hands with a tight hold against your waist, and one sprawled across your shoulder — holding you still. it’s all so intimate, and all so new.

“can we d—do it again? wanna try again..” you quip, cheeks flushing at the dumb, dumb question.

as if he would say no.

[emmyrosee]

“Get ready with me to breakup with my fiancé-“

“BUUUUUULLSHIT YOU ARE!”

Immediately, as soon as your first words are uttered over the recording video, Rintaro’s booms down the hallway. You laugh and smack your hand on the counter, trying to keep it as quiet as you can as you hear him continue to yell.

“THE FUCK YOU THINK THIS IS? WE’RE LOCKED IN, WHAT THE FUCK!” Socked feet barrel down the hall and you’re quick to hide the camera behind a bottle of mouthwash. His body quickly comes into the frame, chest puffed out and hands on his hips. “You got something you want to tell me?”

You pull your lips down in thought before shaking your head, “no. I don’t think so. I didn’t even know you were home.”

“Oh!” He says dramatically, clapping his hands together. “So you’re just always talking about dumping me to your little Internet friends?”

“Only in my fantasies,” you hum, tossing your arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his cheek. He pouts, and you giggle and kiss him again, “but if I ever do decide to dump you, I promise you’ll be the first to know.”

This, has him blinking unamused at you. Then, his hands leap up to grab your cheeks, and he pulls you in for a loud, wet kiss, his lips pressing kisses over your laughing mouth, teeth, and lips. “Listen to me.”

“Rinnie!”

“No. Shush. Listen to me.” He pulls back and rests his head against yours, hands still squishing your cheeks. “I have shit out an engagement ring for you. I have your name tattooed on me. I got clawed to death by your rat fuck cat, and I have a shirt with your face on it that I wear when I go out. We’ve shared a toothbrush, you pinch my nipple when I’m showering, you text me and ask me if I’ve pooped, and I know damn well you take ugly pictures of me when I’m sleeping.”

“Your point?”

His nostrils flare, “you so much as THINK this relationship is ending, I’m going to tattle on you.”

“Oh, please-“

“To Komori.”

This, has you paling, and you nod softly and gently grab his shoulders, “no, okay, you’re right, you’re right baby, I’m sorry.” He nods as you press a kiss to his lips, “but in all seriousness-“

“Oh, I’m serious, too.”

You snicker, “in my seriousness, I’m never going to leave you.” You flash your engagement ring to the camera and purse your lips out, and he smiles down at you. “who else is going to poop out a ring, then lie to the salesman about why we’re returning it, and get me a new one, hmm?”

“Thankfully, I’m the only one who will.” He kisses your forehead, then looks at you with sad eyes. “We’re locked in?”

“Yeah baby,” you giggle, kissing his nose. “We’re locked in.”

[madlyney]

Atsumu Miya is the biggest gaslighter ever. But he’s horrible at it. Extremely horrible.

“You were snoring last night, ‘Tsumu.”

“me? Snore? Are you sure it was me who slept next to you last night? ARE YOU CHEATING ON ME??? YOU WERE WITH ANOTHER MAN LAST NIGHT?????”

“…”

based on this 😭