#hq!! one-shot
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wttcsms · 6 days ago
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come right on me (i mean camaraderie!)
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ᝰ.ᐟ starting a new job is scary, especially when it seems like you can’t do anything correctly. good thing that your manager is always so kind and reassuring and supportive. when a client meeting ends terribly and runs so late that the two of you have to check into a hotel to spend the night, your sweet manager knows a good way to cheer you up… ( fem!reader )
pairing tetsurou kuroo x reader word count 4.9k content contains praise kink, oh no!!! there's only one bed!!!, coworkers/power imbalance (he's your manager, you're the newest and youngest member on the team), slight manipulation from kuroo (he's aware of your crush on him and uses your admiration as leverage), occasionally refers to you as his kouhai, you call him kuroo-senpai, creampie, sex in an enclosed, semi-public space (the office's supply closet), first time blowjobs kinktober masterlist
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If you had known that your transfer would have resulted in you getting fucked boneless in the supply closet of the company you work for…
Well, you would have announced your job transfer a little bit sooner.
“Kuroo— Ah!” You let out a helpless yelp as you feel Kuroo’s teeth bite down on the soft part of your shoulder, sure to leave a mark. “K-Kuroo, slow down!”
“Kuroo? Really?” He snarls, lifting his head up to glare down at you. “Tsk, and here I thought you were a star employee. Is that any way to speak to your manager, or is it because you’re moving that you’re deciding to drop the formalities?” 
Your heart drops at the sound of Kuroo seemingly dissatisfied with you. Out of everyone in this office, he’s always been the one to root for you the hardest. You look up to him! Even when he’s upset, all you want to do is make him feel better. Just like how he made you feel better that time after that horrendous client meeting last month…
“Kuroo-senpai,” you mutter out, avoiding staring at him entirely. “I’m sorry.”
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You’re bowing your head in apology, but Kuroo merely laughs, shaking his head.
“Don’t apologize. These things happen.” Kuroo is smiling, and from the crinkle of his eye and the carefree tone he’s using, it’s genuine. Kuroo isn’t upset with you, and somehow, this only makes you feel worse.
“But I ruined the meeting.” You remind him. “I stuttered when speaking to the client, and then I totally didn’t know how to properly react whenever he—” 
This is when Kuroo’s friendly demeanor darkens. “There would be no proper reaction to what he said.” The client, an older man who’s been working for so long in corporate Japan that back in his day, women could only serve as secretaries and belittled assistants, had made a less-than-savory remark on you and the way your pencil skirt hugs your figure. It had been a test of self-restraint for Kuroo to remain civil and smiling and to not punch him from across the table, but you don’t know that. “Our company shouldn’t sign contracts with men like him, anyway. I’ll write up everything in the report, and you won’t get reprimanded at all, okay?” He’s back to his normal, cheery self, and you nod.
Kuroo always knows what to do. 
And in your case, Kuroo is always making you feel better for being inadequate. A fresh college graduate, it’s a wonder how you managed to snag a position on one of the marketing teams for Japan’s Volleyball Association. Now, in your head, it’s a wonder how you manage to keep the damn position. You just can’t seem to do anything right, and even your coworkers are no longer shy in shaking their heads and sighing every time you mess something up. 
The only person who doesn’t seem to mind the little mistakes you make or the minor trouble you cause is Tetsurou Kuroo, the official unofficial golden boy of the sports promotion division. He’s a bit older than you, but still one of the youngest members belonging to the JVA’s marketing and promotional division. Already, there’s whispers about how Kuroo is most likely going to move up the hierarchy and soon — the Chief of Public Relations position will be opening up due to an early retirement from the current chief, and everyone knows that Kuroo has connections with a majority of the monster generation; not to mention, he’s charming enough to get everyone to go along with what he says.
You admire your senior colleague greatly, and because of your admiration and the fact that he’s the most sympathetic towards you, causing him trouble always makes you feel ten times worse than when you normally mess up. Even if he tells you everything is alright, you’re still frowning, staring down at your shoes. 
“Ah, shit.” Kuroo curses, staring up at the darkening sky as rain starts to descend down on the two of you. “Looks like the storm is coming early.” 
“It’s more like we’re just running late.” You say miserably. Because of you, the client meeting dragged on for even longer than scheduled, and the two of you were already running on a tight enough schedule as is. The JVA needed to secure a contract with a sneaker company to do some joint collaboration billboards, and even with a major thunderstorm predicted for this evening, the company was convinced Kuroo would be able to wrap up the meeting (successfully) and get the both of you on the train home before the storm came.
Now, though, it’s later than when you two were supposed to catch the train, and with the way the weather is worsening at such a rapid speed, it seems like making it to the train station before the last one runs will be impossible. 
“Follow me.” Kuroo tells you, trying to be heard over the wind. You nod, but you don’t expect him to grab your hand. With the wind whipping in your face and the chill of rain soaking through your work clothes, Kuroo’s hand is surprisingly warm. You allow yourself to be practically dragged behind him as he jogs to the nearest inn. Even in a soaked suit, running against the storm’s wind, Kuroo still manages to hold his own just fine. You’re glad his back is turned to you; at least this way, you can admire his athleticism in private.
Kuroo leads the two of you into a nearby hotel. The place looks fancy; way out of your budget. You feel bad as you practically stand there awkwardly, wetting the nice, expensive looking marble floors of the hotel while Kuroo talks to the woman up front. You notice that she’s biting her lip, eyeing the way the fabric of Kuroo’s suit clings to his body because of the rainwater. It only serves to emphasize the muscles he continues to maintain despite no longer playing the sport he’s paid to promote. Seeing the way she’s admiring him gives you a weird feeling inside, so you turn away, avoiding looking at them. 
“Bad news.” Kuroo runs a hand through the wet strands of his hair. “Turns out they’re fully booked. There’s only one room left, but it’s a couple’s suite.”
“Oh.” It makes sense that the two of you would have to spend the night in the city. The trains have probably stopped running now, and with the storm, it’s only reasonable to just wait it out ‘til the morning. “Well… A couple’s suite should be big enough, right?” 
“Space wise, yes.” Kuroo clears his throat. “But it’s for couples. There’s only going to be one bed.” 
Oh. 
You feel heat rising to your cheeks as you let this information sink in. A fancy hotel. A fancy hotel with a fancy couple’s suite. A fancy hotel with a fancy couple’s suite that only has one bed. And you’re with Kuroo, your very kind, understanding coworker. Your senior colleague. Your manager. Your totally hot manager. 
“What should we do?” You peer up at him, looking at him for the solution. You don’t know it, but he loves the face you make when you’re asking him for help. Your eyes go all wide and seek him out, eagerly awaiting for him to guide you.
“You can have the room. This isn’t the only hotel in existence, so I’ll probably head out and try to find a room somewhere else.” 
“No!” You’re shocked he would even want to go back out in this storm. Your exclamation is literally punctuated with the crack of thunder booming from the sky. “You can’t go back out there.” And because you’re aware of how rude your outburst was, you soften your voice. “Kuroo-senpai, I don’t think it would be reasonable for you to put yourself in harm’s way. We’re both adults, right? I… I don’t mind— We can just figure out the sleeping arrangements when we get into the room?” 
Kuroo smiles. 
“My kouhai has a point. You’re always so sharp, [Name].” 
You don’t know why, but despite the chill of your wet clothes and the air conditioning of the hotel lobby, you feel a warmth settling in your tummy and rising all the way to your chest as you let Kuroo’s praise blanket you. 
For a couple’s suite, there really isn’t much space to work with. The bed takes up most of the room, a grand king-sized mattress, plenty of space for two people to sleep on (and with each other). There’s a tiny loveseat in the corner that might just have been there for decoration or the opportunity to try out a different position, you’re not quite sure. The bathroom is connected, and the place has rose petals all over the floor and floral scented candles lit up. 
Kuroo lets out a whistle. “They weren’t kidding when they said couple’s suite.” 
You can only nod in agreement. 
“Do you wanna shower first?” The minute Kuroo suggests this, you’re instantly aware of just how wet your clothes are. Your white blouse is clinging to your skin, and when you look down slowly, you’re horrified to realize just how transparent the material got when drenched. Before you can get too embarrassed over the situation, Kuroo puts you (or tries to, anyway) at ease, just like he always does. “I’m glad no one else was in the lobby when we came, because I’m sure I look a mess.”
A hot mess, maybe. And hot in the sense that Kuroo looks too good right now. He looks like he just came straight out of a designer cologne ad or something. 
“Y-you can shower first.” You manage to squeak out. “It’s only fair. You’re the one who’s been doing most of the work all day.” 
While Kuroo’s in the bathroom, you’re practically spiraling. How are the two of you going to explain the charge of a couple’s suite on the company credit card? It wouldn’t have been so weird if you had been with one of your female managers or vice versa, but you and Kuroo are the closest in age to each other. The meeting dragged out for far longer than originally planned, and you’re worried about how the two of you will be perceived. If anything, Kuroo has the most to lose. Any enemies of his could easily use this as a way to stop him from getting his well deserved promotion. Oh God, you definitely ruined his shot at promotion. You’re terrible. You’re—
“Seems like someone’s thinking a little too hard.” Kuroo’s teasing tone pulls you from your rapid fire overthinking. 
You wish you hadn’t looked up. Standing in front of you is a shirtless Kuroo, his abs tight and glistening with droplets of water left over from his shower. The white towel is wrapped around his waist, but the view he’s providing is already enough to make you acutely aware of the fact that Kuroo is a man. His normally uncontrollable hair is weighed down with water, damp strands hanging in his face. And he has the nerve to just stand in front of you so casually, as if he isn’t practically naked! 
Maybe you’re the weird one. Great. So you’re practically eye-fucking your manager after despairing over how you basically might be the reason why he’s going to miss out on a great job opportunity. Right after you performed horribly during a client meeting, and then made him save you by finding you shelter in a very nice hotel. 
“I’m the worst.” You groan, frowning as you look up at him. 
“Hey, don’t say that.” He frowns right back at you. “That’s not true at all.” 
“You’re just saying that because you’re nice.” 
He lets out a short, sharp laugh. “A lot of people wouldn’t call me nice. It’s sweet that you would, though.” 
“How can that be true? Kuroo-senpai is the nicest person to me at work!” 
“Am I really?” You don’t notice how dangerous the glint in his eyes are, but you do have enough intuition to sense a shift in his demeanor. “Do you like that your senpai is so nice to you?” 
You don’t know what you do to him. It’s why you don’t realize how you’re essentially unchaining the beast locked up inside of him as you reply, “I like everything about Kuroo-senpai.” 
“I’m glad to hear that, because I like everything about my little kouhai, too.” 
Your eyes widen at this confession. The butterflies in your tummy are doing cartwheels right now. You can’t believe what you’re hearing, what you’re seeing. Are you hallucinating right now? That’s the only reasonable conclusion, but as Kuroo leans forward, you find yourself leaning a bit further back, just on instinct. He’s so much larger than you, more imposing. You feel like you have to shrink when he starts to close the distance between the two of you. He places his hands on the mattress you’re sitting on, effectively caging you in between his arms as he leans down even closer to you. So close that a drop of water from his hair lands right on your thigh. 
“Do you like me enough to let me kiss you?” 
Apparently, you like him enough to let him do much more than just kiss you. The kisses start off gentle enough. His lips are a bit chapped, but you like the feel of them against your much softer ones. He swallows up your little desperate whimpers, and he moves at a pace you can adapt to. When he notices you getting more confident in your movements, he gets rougher, more aggressive. It’s not just whimpers that he’s inhaling, now, but moans. Even in the heat of the moment, though, Kuroo still has enough restraint, enough decency, left in him to continue to ask for your permission. 
“Do you like me enough to let me do this?” He asks you, fingers prodding at the buttons of your work attire. You nod weakly, dizzy with pleasure from just a few kisses. He takes a sharp inhale of breath when your bra is revealed to him, and then he’s helping you slip out of your skirt, and he has to take a few seconds to admire the matching lace set you’re wearing. “I didn’t know my little kouhai was hiding this underneath her work clothes.” He mutters, and you can’t help but thrive off of the attention he’s giving you. 
He leans down ‘til his mouth is so close to your ear, you can practically feel the heat of his breath as he whispers, “Does my precious kouhai like me enough to let me play with her cute pussy?” 
You think you’re going to faint. You can barely breathe as you nod your permission, but he merely tsks. “Use your words, sweetheart. Otherwise, I won’t know.” 
He’s toying with you now. There’s a purpose to him asking his questions the way he does; he wants to see how far your admiration, your devotion, to him runs. A workplace crush might let him get away with a few kisses, but what about pounding into your sweet cunt? Do you like him enough to let him do that? 
Apparently, you do. Because you’re getting over your shyness. Because you’re whispering, “Yes. I l-like you enough to let you play with my pussy.” 
“Atta girl.” 
He’s on you within milliseconds. The pretty panties you’re wearing are now on the floor of this hotel room. He’s quick enough to figure out how to unclasp your bra, and that’s thrown to the ground as well. Laying completely bare and exposed, your work senpai wastes no time in having his hands explore your body, feeling out all the curvatures and angles that make you you. 
He takes a finger to pet at your cunt, humming approval when he already feels traces of slick gathering on the pad of his ring finger. “Did you get wet just from a couple lil’ kisses?” 
You don’t want to answer him, turning your head to the side in embarrassment because yes, you did, but his grin only widens. He presses a kiss to your cheek, finding you downright cute. “Don’t be shy. You did nothing wrong.” 
You did nothing wrong. 
He’s always telling you this, and the kind words never fail to make you feel all warm inside. That’s one of your favorite phrases to hear, but somehow, it hits differently whenever he’s pairing that heartwarming phrase with his finger in your cunt. 
“Ah, fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” He grunts out, moving his ring finger in and out, in and out. “You know what I think you need? I think you need your senpai’s help in loosening you up. It’ll be good for you, wouldn’t you agree?”
You nod your head enthusiastically, and because you think he might like to hear you say it, you admit what he already knows. “Kuroo-senpai is right. You always know what I need.” 
“Good girl.” The praise has you tightening around his finger, and your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed. He smirks, pleased with how sweet and pliant you are for him. A few bits of praise thrown your way, and you become a slut for him.
It’s a good thing your senpai cares about you so much. He cares about you so much that he’s adding his middle finger to the mix, curling the two fingers against your walls, relishing in your little mewls of pleasure. He’ll have to stretch you out, get you all nice and prepped for his cock. He cares about you, which is why he’s going to let you cum. 
“Feelin’ good?” He asks, knowing that from your moans of pleasure, you definitely are. His fingers work wonders within you, and Kuroo can’t help but admire how cute you are, his little kouhai. What would you do without him, hm? He loves the way your knees jerk and how you whimper every time his fingers curl right up against that sweet spot inside of you, the one your tiny fingers can’t seem to reach no matter how hard you try. Your cute little cunt is already so wet, so ready for his cock, that neither of you can seem to ignore the squelching sounds it’s making as he continues to work his fingers in and out of you. When he presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing tiny figure-eights on the bud, you cry out his name, tacking on that familiar honorific he loves to hear falling from your sweet lips, as you cum all over his fingers. You cum so much that your essence is dripping onto his palm, trailing down to his wrist, and he thinks that this is exactly where you should be, where you always should be. 
“You’re so good for me. Look at how much my good girl came.” He coos, and you should be embarrassed about the mess you made, but when he sings out his praise for you like that, you can’t help but feel a tiny bit proud. 
“Can my good girl make me even prouder? Can you take my cock right now, [Name]?” 
Even if you couldn’t, you still wouldn’t have denied him. It’s a lucky thing, then, that you’re so desperate for him. You spread your legs even wider, inviting him, and who is Kuroo to leave such a precious girl waiting and wanting? It’d be cruel to. 
Which is why he doesn’t make you wait. 
Instead, he plunges his bare cock right into your pussy, groaning with satisfaction as he feels you clamp down on him. Of course you’d be clinging to him; you’re always clinging onto him, always following after him. Such a sweet girl, his lovely, adorable junior colleague. The kouhai who likes him so much, you’d allow him to fuck you nice and hard, to really make use of this couple’s suite and its obnoxious sized bed. 
He quickens his pace almost instantly, giving you no time to adapt to his girth and length. He grins when he sees your little fucked out expression, the way your tongue peeks out from between your pretty, pink lips and the way your cheeks are flushed, your hair a mess. The soft, breathy moans that escape from your mouth. You’re going dumb on his cock, and that’s perfectly fine by him. Let him do all the thinking, anyway. 
Kuroo places a hand on your lower belly, trying to gauge just how deep he’s thrusting into you, and when he finds out, he applies more pressure, pressing down on your soft skin, forcing you to take every inch he has to offer. He’s wringing out soft “ah ah ah!”s from you, and your legs wrap around him almost instinctively as you warn him that you’re about to cum once again. 
“So soon?” He grunts out, grinning meanly. “Normally, senpais don’t expect such slutty behavior from their coworkers, but since it’s me you’re going stupid for, I’ll let it pass.” Your legs are closing in on his body, your whole body jerking a bit as you start to lose control. “Go ahead and make me proud. Cum all over my cock like a good kouhai.” 
The minute the request leaves his mouth, you do. You cum all over his length, as he instructed, and he lets out a short laugh at how devoted you are to him.
“Good girl, my best girl.” He grunts out, fucking your cunt at a leisurely pace now before stilling, letting his own cum flood inside your perfect pussy. “My perfect little kouhai. You did so good for me.” 
And with your cunt full of your senpai’s cum, his cock still plugging you up and keeping everything tucked safely inside, he gives you a rather chaste forehead kiss that has you swooning.
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Honestly, you don’t expect much to change between the two of you. It’s not like you think Kuroo’s just going to get down on one knee and let you take his last name or anything. You’re still trying to convince yourself that that night wasn’t some hyper-realistic dream, and the only proof that it was real was the remainder of his cum still settled inside your pussy when you woke up the morning after. 
Kuroo is still a good work senpai, always coming to your defense and fixing your mistakes. 
But you can’t help but wonder if he thinks that night he fucked you is just another work mistake of yours that he has to fix. Because of this, you’ve gone out of your way to avoid him as much as possible. So when the director of your team calls you to his office to let you know that the transfer request you put in months ago, way before that night at the hotel, finally got approved, all you can do is bow your head in thanks and return to your cubicle in a daze.
You don’t know what to do, and the person you would normally come to for guidance is the one person you’re trying to minimize interaction with.
However, word of your transfer spreads fast. After all, it’s a cause for celebration when the weakest link of the team is finally moving far, far away. Your coworkers are all being much kinder to you, and in the middle of them congratulating you on your move, you look across the room and lock eyes with Kuroo. His facial expression betrays nothing, but he quickly mouths supply closet before sneaking out of the office.
Five minutes later, you manage to follow him, gently opening the door to the closet, only to be dragged in immediately. The click of the door locking is loud, heard even above your rapidly rising heart beat, and that’s how you find yourself being ravished by Kuroo, during work hours, at your workplace.
When he chastises you for addressing him so casually, you immediately feel terrible. 
“Kuroo-senpai,” you mutter out, avoiding staring at him entirely. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah?” He growls out, keeping you pressed firmly against the wall. “What’re you so sorry for? For avoiding me, or for withholding the fact that you’re going to move all the way to Kyoto?” 
You shake your head, tiny droplets of tears gathering up in your eyes. When you look at him like that, like a little puppy who just got kicked, it only makes him want to ruin you some more, if only so he can have the honor of being the one to piece you right back together again. 
“Senpai, I-I didn’t know what to do.” You wail out. “I was scared that that night at the hotel didn’t matter to you, and I was embarrassed of how I acted then, and I applied to transfer to the Kyoto office ages ago, and when they finally approved it, I didn’t know if it would be smart to pull back my request. I’m sorry, Kuroo-senpai. Please don’t be mad at me.” 
He leans down, pressing his forehead against your own. “Not mad, baby. I was just a bit upset, that’s all.” He rests a hand against your hip, toying with the waistband of your skirt. “You shouldn’t have been embarrassed, though.”
“R-really?”
He nods. “Yeah. I fuckin’ love my little kouhai’s reactions. You shouldn’t be embarrassed around me.” He looks you in the eyes, tugging down your skirt and enjoying the hitch in your breath. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I was hurt.”
“I’m sorry!” You squeak out again, and he sighs. 
“If you’re really sorry, you’ll show me.” 
Apparently, the proper way to show him you’re sorry is to get down on your knees, ignoring the cold tile of the closet, and to unbuckle his belt, pull down the zipper of his slacks, and tug at his briefs in order to free his cock. He’s already hard, the tip of his cock an angry red with pearly white droplets of precum already gathering at the head. You shouldn’t be nervous; you had the full length of his dick inside of your pussy, but somehow, the task of taking him down your throat seems rather daunting. 
“C’mon, [Name]. Is my little kouhai getting shy again?” Kuroo teases, gently nudging his cock against your parted lips. Your tongue reflexively comes out, and before you realize it, your giving tiny kitten licks, getting your first taste of salty precum. You must make a face, because he laughs, before carding his fingers through the locks of your hair and suddenly, very suddenly, pushes you forward. 
He isn’t rough, but the presence and pressure of his hand is firm. He doesn’t push you down any further, but the first few inches of his cock is now resting against your tongue, and he’s savoring the warmth of your mouth, groaning as he feels the vibrations of you mumbling something in surprise. 
“Mm, this is a good starting point for an apology, don’t you think?” He muses, knowing that in your current position, you can’t really reply back. “Such a good kouhai for me. What am I gonna do when you move to Kyoto?”
His voice gets a bit huskier as he forces you to take more of his length into your mouth. When he starts thrusting gently, slowly getting you used to the feeling of him fucking your mouth, he lets out a groan. “So good, baby, so good. Do you normally let your senpais fuck your mouth like this?”
You mumble something, finding enough room to shake your head. 
“No?” He says, picking up his face. Every time he thrusts back in, he hits the back of your throat a bit harder, forces more of his length in. “You’re so good at taking my dick right now, though. Don’t tell me that this is your first time?” He looks down at you, eyes lighting up and a smile brightening his expression. “This is your first time sucking off a cock? Of letting someone fuck you like this?” He laughs, the sound full of genuine joy. 
“You’re the fucking best.” He tells you, before tightening his grip in your hair and pushing you down onto his cock. This is the only warning he gives you before you feel spurts of hot cum flooding into your mouth, and your eyes widen in surprise at the sheer amount that’s being poured into you. He lets out a little groan, tilting his own head back in pleasure as he keeps your head pushed down. The stimulation from you gagging around his girth only prolongs his climax, and you still can’t find relief when he pulls out of your mouth because he’s instantly demanding you open up and show him what a mess he made inside of you. 
You whimper, giving into your senpai’s request. You open up wide, sticking out your tongue to reveal the thick globs of white cum coating the appendage. Fuck, just the sight of you all submissive, on your knees, teary eyed and ready to please, mouth full of his cum… It’s enough to get him hard again. 
“You’re the best kouhai in the world.” He hums, patting your head, and you swallow up his praise just like you do his cum. 
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kasiers · 4 months ago
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A LITTLE LONGER — SHOYO HINATA
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pairing: brazil!shoyo hinata x reader
synopsis: a lazy morning waking up with your dear boyfriend while he tries to convince you to stay in bed with him a bit longer <3
contains: gn!reader, pure fluff, established relationship, timeskip!shoyo hinata and even more fluff !! slight spoilers since this is timeskip
word count: 1.1k
a/n: based on this req ! when i was editing this the wc was originally 998 so i decided i might as well push it to 1k+ LMAO
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Soft morning rays peeked through Shoyo’s blinds, casting an ethereal golden glow over everything in his small bedroom. The light bounces off the glossy covers of the various books scattered on his floor, ranging from volleyball training manuals to English learning guides and the Dragon Ball DVDS numbered from the very first until the latest.
You stirred lightly in your sleep, feeling a gentle pressure on your neck which pulled you awake. You shifted slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position. As you moved, his grip on your waist tightened, pulling you closer to him as your back pressed against his chest. He hummed softly, his warm breath brushing against your skin. 
The gentle buzz of the city outside his apartment was a comforting distant backdrop, the smell of freshly brewed coffee coming from the kitchen filled your nostrils. Must be his roommate, you thought. 
You shift slightly in his embrace, still amazed that you and Shoyo can lay comfortably on his small twin size bed. You frown softly at the weight of Shoyo’s arms wrapped over you thanks to the muscles he’s built up. You gently lift his arm, catching a glimpse of the large delivery bag by the end of his bed. You carefully hold his arm up as best as you could without waking him up, turning around to face him. 
When you had finally settled into a more cozy position, you were met with his sleepy expression which made your heart flutter. You could tell he was half-asleep and tired, likely trying to recover from his games that had run late from the night before presumably with that high school friend of his that he told you about.
You nestled closer to Shoyo, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest as he instinctively wrapped his arms around you once more, keeping you in a comfortable lock.
“Good mornin’ baby,” Shoyo murmurs, his voice thick with sleep as he presses a soft kiss to your head, taking in the time to smell the sweet scent of your shampoo.
“Good morning, Sho,” you replied back, your voice equally hushed. You look up at him, though he doesn’t open his eyes as he’d rather not be greeted by the sunlight just yet. His hair at the moment looked unkempt and wild, you can’t help but form a soft smile on your lips. 
“Did you sleep well?” he asks, his voice a drowsy murmur as he tries his best to fight back his fatigue. How could he fall back asleep when your presence was like a warm blanket he never wanted to let go of? He could stay like this forever.
You nodded as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. You could smell a hint of his cologne and natural musk. You threw your arms over him, both your legs tangled with his and the white blanket draped over both of you. 
You traced small lazy patterns on his back, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing. Your actions gave him a sense of belonging, grounding him in this very moment. 
“Yeah, I did. How about you?” you murmured against his skin, your voice soft, “ You must’ve been exhausted after last night.”
He felt the vibrations of your words, sending a shiver down his spine. “I’m okay,” he says quietly, his fingers gently fiddling with the ends of your hair.
You both lay there silently, seconds turning into minutes stretching into a blissful eternity. You finally had a sense of peace that you felt like you hadn’t experienced in a long time, thanks to your busy work schedule. 
“I don’t want to get up,” Shoyo admitted, his grip on you tightening slightly. “This is too nice.”
You laughed softly, nudging him gently as you pushed off him just a bit to look up at his face and hum in agreement. “Mhm, I know Sho, but don’t you have training today? Are you seriously trying to slack off on your responsibilities?”
Shoyo sighed dramatically as he nuzzled his face into your hair, “baby, would ya kill me if I asked for a few more minutes?”
You shifted your gaze up at him, your lips curving into a soft smile. The warm sunlight streaming through the blinds shined down on his sleepy yet energetic face, and for a moment, you forgot about everything else but the comfort of his presence. 
You knew you had to get up soon— there was work waiting for you, and Shoyo had training scheduled for the morning. But the longer you looked at his bright, hopeful eyes, you found it hard to resist. 
“You’re impossible, you know that?” you said, completely giving up, your voice a gentle tease. “I’ve got work, and you have training today. We can’t just lie here all day.”
Shoyo’s lips held a small cheerful grin, it was as if he wasn’t just worn out minutes prior, his eyes sparkled with a mix of charm and enthusiasm. “Come on, lemme enjoy this time with you baby,” he says smoothly, voice filled with genuine affection.
He squeezes you gently as if to plead, you’d be lying if you said his energy wasn’t infectious, it was difficult not to deny him of such a request especially when he looked at you like that. “I’ll get up right after, I promise,” he added, his tone hopeful.
You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his persistence. It was hard to stay annoyed when he was being so affectionate. “You’re really trying to sweet-talk me, huh?” you said, shaking your head slightly but not pulling away. “Alright, fine. A few more minutes. But you better not be late for your training.”
His face lit up immediately upon hearing your words, muttering sweet and small thank you’s as he pulled you in even closer, nestling his face into your neck, his warm breath tickling your skin. “Thank you… thank you baby…” he murmured, it was hard not to be charmed by his gratitude.
Once again, you found yourself sinking back into his embrace, the warmth of his body pressing against yours as it soothed you. Shoyo tightened his hold on you, his fingers brushing gently against your back securely. The gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek was comforting while the soft hum of his breathing was like a gentle breeze that carried you into a peaceful slumber. 
Maybe you could call in sick to watch him and Heitor for the day, Nice would love your company after all.
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omi-boshi · 8 months ago
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"What are you doing?" Kiyoomi asks from his place on the bed, wary.
His arms part as he makes space for you to wiggle your way onto his chest. He breathes a laugh at your antics, watches as you take his face between the palm of your hands. The grin that tugs on your lips is a little lopsided, a little cheeky.
The bright red of your lips catches the light and it is the last thing he sees before you begin your assault.
Kiss. On his lips.
Kiss. Right cheek.
Kiss. Left cheek.
Kiss. Tip of his nose.
Kiss. The moles on his forehead.
By the tenth kiss, he is roaring in laughter. The kind of laugh that you've only ever heard when he's with you. It's loud, it shakes his entire being, jostling your body that lies on top of his if not for the arms he has wrapped around you to keep you in place.
It's a little ugly, a little silly the way he snorts in between laughs, but it is offset by the unbridled joy so clear to your ears. The kisses you leave by the corner of his eyes are distorted by the way they're crinkled in laughter. From there, his grin is a permanent fixture as you continue to fill every gap on his face and neck with kisses.
As the tint on your lips slowly fades, his laughter does too, mellowing down into a dopey little smile, eyes bright. You pull back to admire your handiwork, your smile just as dazed.
One arm unravels from your waist to cradle one of your hands still cupping his cheeks. He nuzzles into the touch, eyes tracing over your features, gaze so warm you feel it on your skin. It moves you to lean in once more, to kiss him on the lips.
Longer this time.
And Kiyoomi is more than eager to reciprocate. It's heavier, wetter. More breaths, gasps, and the occasional bites. There is an attempt at deepening the kiss further; Kiyoomi's tongue tracing the seam of your lips. But the giddiness that thrums through him pulls his grin wider. Every time your teeth clash, it makes you laugh into his mouth. It is truly in vain that you try to kiss properly.
When you finally pull away, it is to Kiyoomi mirroring you and cupping your cheeks with both hands.
"What was that for?" He is breathless as he asks. The look on his face no less lovestruck than it was before. The tint on his lips was the most smeared compared to all other kiss marks on his face. It makes you giggle, amused.
"I just wanted to kiss you, is all." You kiss the palm of his left hand to emphasize. "And I wanted to try out the lipstick I bought today." You nod towards the tube sitting innocently on your nightstand.
Kiyoomi shakes his head, chuckling to himself.
He hugs you to his chest, rolling you onto your back, placing himself on top of you. He reaches for the tube of lipstick, smile growing mischievous.
"Guess it's time to return the favor."
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sweetlyvibe · 6 days ago
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“𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮” - 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗄𝗒𝗎𝗎 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝗌 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 ╰► ❨ 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗐𝗈 ❩
- 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭. 𝖠𝗌𝖺𝗁𝗂 𝖠𝗓𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖾 ⋆ 𝖣𝖺𝗂𝖼𝗁𝗂 𝖲𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖺 ⋆ 𝖪𝗂𝗍𝖺 𝖲𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗎𝗄𝖾 ⋆ 𝖲𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗂 𝖳𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗎 ⋆ 𝖬𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗎𝗄𝖾 𝖸𝖺𝗄𝗎 ⋆ 𝖪𝖾𝗇𝗆𝖺 𝖪𝗈𝗓𝗎𝗆𝖾
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Asahi realized he loved you one day after you visited him at practice. You were laughing and talking with his teammates, treating everyone with warmth and kindness, and it just hit him: he never wanted to be without you. The thought was so overwhelming that he spent the next few days flustered and avoiding eye contact, wondering how he’d ever tell you.
Finally, one evening when you’re both walking home together, you mention something funny that happened at school, and he just blurts out, “I… I think I love you.” His face is tomato red, and he’s barely holding eye contact, heart hammering in his chest. When you smile softly and say, “I love you too, Asahi,” he practically melts on the spot, his whole face lighting up in shy happiness.
Daichi knew he loved you during a team dinner. You’d insisted on helping organize everything, making sure everyone had enough to eat, even cracking jokes to ease the tension after a tough game. He watched you effortlessly handle the chaos, feeling something solid click into place—this was love.
After a few days of thinking about it, he finally decides to tell you. You’re both in the middle of a playful argument over who’s the better cook, and he suddenly stops, looking at you seriously. “I love you,” he says, like he’s sharing a fact he’s known forever. You pause, caught off guard, then smile and say, “Well, I love you too, obviously!” He laughs, relieved, and pulls you into a tight hug, wondering why he’d ever worried.
Kita realized he loved you in one of those simple, everyday moments—you were just helping him harvest some vegetables, chatting and laughing under the sun. He found himself staring, thinking, this is it, this is where I’m supposed to be.
Later that evening, he pulls you aside on the porch as you watch the stars. There’s a calm confidence in his voice as he says, “I love you.” It’s not flashy or dramatic, but it’s so Kita—honest, steady, and true. You feel warmth spread through your whole body as you reply, “I love you too.” He nods, looking satisfied, and takes your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
Tendou’s realization hit him like a lightning bolt one day while he was rambling on about his favorite anime. You were listening so intently, your eyes shining with interest, and he thought, Wait… no one’s ever actually cared this much about my weird stuff. That’s when he knew.
A few days later, you’re both at an arcade, laughing and trying to beat each other’s high scores. Out of nowhere, he says, “I love you.” You look up, a little surprised, and he gives you that signature mischievous smile, adding, “Yeah, you heard me.” You break into a huge grin, saying, “I love you too, you nerd.” He laughs, relieved and happy, and playfully ruffles your hair.
Yaku’s moment of realization came when you patched him up after a rough game. You were so gentle, fussing over his scraped knees, and he couldn’t stop staring at you, thinking, I could get used to this. The thought of you caring for him so sweetly felt too good to be true.
A few days later, he finally works up the nerve to tell you. You’re out together, talking about everything and nothing, when he stops mid-sentence and says, “I love you, you know?” It’s straightforward, with a hint of that proud Yaku confidence. You blink, processing, then smile, leaning in close to whisper, “I love you too.” He tries to play it cool but ends up beaming, completely thrilled.
Kenma realized he loved you during a quiet gaming session at his place. You were sitting beside him, just there in the background, but somehow, it felt right. He didn’t need anyone else—he just wanted you. The realization made him so nervous he avoided telling you for days, worried he might ruin things.
But one night, as you’re leaving, he stops you at the door and says, “I… love you.” It’s barely a whisper, but you hear it, your face lighting up with a smile. “I love you too, Kenma.” He looks away, trying to hide his blushing face, but you catch the soft smile creeping onto his lips, and he lets out a quiet sigh of relief, feeling lighter than ever.
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clawsdevour · 3 months ago
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the moon's reunion
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wc: 3.9k content warning: fluff, manager!reader x captain!daichi, oneshot, not proofread
note: hihi this is for the previous request i responded to. i actually LOVED THIS IDEA. while i was writing and brainstorming i literally was like smiling the whole time bc i thought this was so cute (literally js boyfriend daichi being adorable)
࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊ ♡︎︎
Transferring from another school to Karasuno. Your heart was set on Karasuno’s boys volleyball team, especially since you wanted to find your own people at this brand new school. At your last school you worked alongside with their volleyball team as their manager, thinking you’d fit right in with the volleyball team. You’ve already talked it out with the school’s coach, going over what you’ll be doing and introducing you to Yachi, a first year and Kiyoko, your upperclassman whom you’ll be cooperating with throughout the school year.
Right outside of the gym doors, you could hear their shoes squeaking, balls being hit and received along with a lot of yelling exchanged throughout the courts. This was it, the opportunity to make friends at this school. The lump in your throat was forming out of anxious thoughts. Counting down when to open the doors.. 3, 2.. 1.
“E-Excuse me..! I’m going to be your new manager from here on out!” You slid the door wide open with a bang as it recoils, the balls drop down catching everyone’s attention. It was silent the moment you introduce yourself, heads turned in your direction as you shouted. Your head is bowed all the way down, too nervous to look up at who’s staring back from within. The quietness in the gym was broken when Coach Ukai sauntered down to you, you slowly rose up to see his tall figure and bleached blonde hair.
“Attention everyone. Starting from today, meet the new addition to our team. She’s going to be working as one of our managers. You all better treat her with respectful or it’s conditioning for you all!” Cowering down, as Ukai points and shouts at the team on court before fully welcoming you with a tender slap on the back.
There your job as manager came naturally to you, eventually starting to feel like your second home. Refilling the boys’ waterbottles with Kiyoko and Yachi while gossiping on the way, making sure the volleyballs were in mint condition before all of their practices, setting up the volleyball nets amongst giggles. Sometimes you found yourself cutting up fruit for them to regain their energy. You felt like you actually managed to fit in at school, especially in Karasuno’s gym. 
The boys loved your energy even though you sometimes felt like you lack the same level of charisma that they have. You often realized that you talk the most with Nishinoya, their libero who’s also the same grade as you. Noya is just the easiest to strike the conversation with alongside Hinata, they’re both balls of energy. They didn’t judge you one bit for being on the more socially timid side, but would rather hype you up and you were grateful for it because they made you feel so much more confident in yourself.
Despite getting along with those two the most, you actually conversed the most with Daichi Sawamura, the boys’ volleyball captain and a third year. You notice that he’s always thankful for you, even if you’re just handing him his water bottle he’d praise you for working so hard. Sometimes when he doesn’t see his teammates give you the same gratitude as he does, he playfully forces it on them. You couldn’t tell if it’s because he wants you to feel welcomed since you’re still new, or maybe because he has deep respect for his underclassmen even though you’re just a second year. There’s also this lingering thought floating in your mind, Maybe he likes me?
When it came to all of the third years’ graduation, you can’t help but cry out happy tears for them. You were so happy to see such a flourished friendship that was created in such a short amount of time go just like that. Seeing them all nice and fancy, you can tell they were all also trying their hardest not to start sobbing as they’re holding tightly onto their flowers while taking photos. The whole boys’ volleyball team gathered in the gym after the ceremony to personally commemorate the four with small awards, gifts and words of gratitude. 
“Thank you guys for believing in me as your captain and as a person. Working with you all.. Brings me to tears knowing I won’t be back next year to see you all grow as people and my teammates. Remember to work hard!” Daichi’s face was stern and serious with a big smile to hide behind his watery eyes that peered around the familiar faces. His eyes landed on yours and didn’t move one bit.
Lining up for hugs before leaving the gym, you were the last to hug him. Stepping closer to him, he’s already staring at you with a joyful smile plastered on his lips with his strong arms opened nice and big for a tight hug. Reciprocating his energy, you lean into his warm embrace as his arms wrap around you.
“Daichi.. Thank you for welcoming me into the team and rooting for me. I promise I’m gonna take care of this team..” mumbling into his shoulder as you feel his head nod into yours, feeling his deep breaths rise and fall on top of your body The hug felt longer than the one he gave the others, everyone had already left the gym when it was your turn.
When you pull away from his embrace, you see that he’s got tears forming at the bottoms of his eyes. Upon seeing your shocked face, he’s wiping his tear droplets on to his sleeve with a tiny ‘sorry, haha’. You’re walking him out, while having a light conversation with him.
“This may be the last time we’ll be like this.. It’s a small wish. But, please let me walk you home.” At the entrance of Karasuno, you usually part paths going the opposite way after practice, he wants to savour every last moment with you.
You agree to let him walk you home, it was dark out and such a hot and humid walk back. The awkwardness between you and him since you first met was barely even there anymore, it was completely transparent. You both were so happy that school was over and for this little moment of peace after the storm together. You both laughed and shared some hidden secrets you’ve kept throughout the school year until you were at your doorstep, bowing down to him with your respect ‘til he waved his last goodbye.
A year passes by with your usual school life at Karasuno, except how you’ve become a third year alongside with Nishinoya, Tanaka, Ennoshita, Kinoshita, and Narita. The gym was always still pumping with excitement and joy whenever it was time to practice, especially now that more first years were interested in joining the volleyball team. You were placed in Kiyoko’s position as the head manager with Yachi still working alongside you. Time and time continued to pass, you made sure to enjoy every second with your people before it was time for you to graduate. Still, you were unsure of what you wanted to do when you leave your second home at Karasuno.
In the larger, decorated gym. The heat was radiating as people rushed in to greet their children before the ceremony began. A few friendly faces caught your attention. Was that Sugawara just now? With Asahi and– His eyes stared back into yours. Without a doubt it was Daichi, he came back to watch his teammates graduate. You felt this strange overwhelming feeling of happiness and excitement when you specifically saw him. 
“Daichi!!!” you break out of your shyness to flail your hand at him, his grin grew wider when you acknowledged him. He was headed towards you pushing around with a few excuse me’s, he brought Asahi and Sugawara with him to come and congratulate you. 
“Hey there new face, congratulations!!! It’s like we just met you the other day and now you’re gonna be on that stage with your name being called out like us!” You’re all catching up before the ceremony begins. At some point you noticed that Sugawara and Asahi drifted off to meet with the others. Asahi was about to spot Noya and started chattin with him like there wasn’t a year put against their friendship. Sugawara’s mingling with the crowd flashing his soft smile all around.
The announcement that directed families and friends to their seats meant that it was time to step away from Daichi and rejoin with the third years. A wave and smile was exchanged between you two before parting ways to new paths. 
When your ceremony was over, you can’t help but have this grimace expression on your face knowing that that hole in your heart which was filled, was now aching knowing that you have to behind your friends. You’re looking down, walking out of the gym until you saw a pair of familiar shoes appear in your field of vision. I know those shoes.. Why do I know those shoes… looking up, it was no one else but Daichi, whose been waiting for you outside of the gym. Staring at him, he was more timid than he was earlier and it was written all over his face.
“Haha, hey you! What’re you still doing out here? You look as scared as I was when I first transferred here” You’re giggling at him with your hands behind your back. His face gradually turned into a shade of pink, his hands were a bit shaky as he reached out to you with flowers.
“Look.. I think that you’re an amazing person. And I really know this may be a fifty-fifty chance for me but, I really like you and what to know you more. Ever since I met you, I thought you were hardworking and very loving… it motivated me to become better.” He’s gazing at you with his firm and beady eyes, nudging the flowers closer to you. You’re in awestruck, always on the line of thinking about how others thought of you but you never realized the impact that you could make on them. Filled with joy, you’re absolutely moved to tears.
“We can take this slow.. So, how about going on a date with me?” Daichi delivers his words steadilyin the heat of the moment upon seeing your positive reaction. The crickets echoed while the warm wind brushes against you both. Taking the flowers from his shaky hands, you cried out a clear and loud YES!! While launching yourself onto him for a big bear hug. You feel his face morph into his big toothy grin as he’s swaying you in the air.
Before your fresh start in college to start earning your degree, you’ve been non-stop texting and calling with Daichi to plan out your date now that it’s summer. You often find yourself smiling at your phone or kicking your feet when you see his text notification pop up. You were just so head over heels for him as he was when he met you. However, you’ve both haven’t said anything about your current developing relationship to the rest of the others. 
Arriving at the place he was going to meet you at, you saw his tall and broad figure standing near the entrance. Daichi’s more pampered than usual, wearing a simple but clean outfit that showed off his muscular build with a bag over his shoulder. He’s on his phone before he tilts up at you strutting down towards him, his face lights up just looking at you.
“Daichi!!” You’re calling out to him, speeding up your walking pace as you closed the distance between you two. He’s chuckling with his big smile, arms open for a hug which you gladly accept. Stepping back, you lock your hand around his forearm and lead him into the entrance with an excited Let’s go!
Handing in the tickets to the worker, the cool air hits your skin the moment you walk in. The blue lights of the aquarium hit your face while Daichi’s glancing down at you to admire how he got so lucky with you. Despite his calm and happy facial expressions, deep down he was a scared and nervous wreck, he wants everything to go well when he’s with you.
You’re both walking around the aquarium hand in arm, looking at the cool and erotic fish being displayed through the glass walls as you chatter together. Making a full loop around, you returned by the entrance again. You cleared your throat to tell him that you need to use the restroom before you both leave the building for dinner, he’s standing outside waiting for you while he’s taking out his phone to message someone.
So far, he’s only told Sugawara about his advances toward his relationship with you, making sure to update him and ask him for advice about what to do and not to do. You’re in the restroom staring at yourself in the mirror after you’ve washed your hands. You took this time as an opportunity to give yourself a pep talk out of anxiety, reminding yourself to be confident and talk to him like how you usually do as a way to keep your cool. 
“Sorry, I didn’t take too long did I?” blurting out, as you head towards him as you nervously make an attempt to hold his hand as you walked. Your heart is pounding like crazy. Success! He’s shaking out a no, with a pleasant smile while he subtly swings around your hand with each step.
“Shall we head to dinner and walk around the area after?” You agreed to a nice warm supper, heading out of the aquarium. This time, with his hand tightly holding onto yours. Oh boy the way you made his heart almost skip with that action, he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. Your hand fit into his like a glove, as if you were made for each other.
Dinner goes well as you both chowed down on the most delicious food you’ve ever eaten while being able to break the tense tension that lingered. You ordered something different than his, though his dish did look more appetizing. At some point he caught you eyeing his food and offered you a taste. Opening your mouth, expecting him to spoonfeed you some, he’s snickering at your cute antics while he scoops it up for you. 
“Is it good?” Daichi’s content watching you try his food with that happy expression. Nodding out a yes, you urge him to try your dish by pushing to towards him before you completely destroyed it with your appetite.
Daichi pays off the bill even though you argued within to split, of course he won. Both of you walk out to take a little stroll in hopes of helping you digest the big meal you just had as the sky continued to darken. Stumbling upon a little park, you sit on the swing breathing in the crisp cool air as he does the same. 
“I had so much fun today.. I didn’t think this would happen at all when I first moved here Daichi.” You’re eyeing him, then back at the full moon that casting its light onto you. You giggle to yourself, thinking about how grateful you are and how far you’ve come while making your bestfriends along the way.
“I, did too. Um.. You know, the moon?” His face is tilted towards yours, admiring your beauty that was glowing in the moonlight. You’re facing him with a puzzled look on your face, awaiting to see what he’s about to say next.
“What about the moon?” Daichi’s breathing in a big deep breath.
“Well, the moon. It’s beautiful isn’t it?” All of your attention lands on him, realizing he wasn’t talking about the god damn moon at all. He was talking about you. You can’t help yourself but have all these feelings swell up inside you, unable to resist grinning out of glee before whispering a small I love you, too.
You’re both sitting there on the swings with a flushed and surprised look on your faces. I can’t believe that just happened.. We just confessed to each other like that. You’re both basking in the moment of silence and the clanking of the swings with the mix of the quiet and awkward atmosphere. Daichi’s breaking the silent when he clears the lump in his throat.
“Um.. so– If I may, can I do the honor and be your boyfriend” standing his ground, his eyes are jittering but filled with his sheer will that peered into your soul. His words echoed in your ears as you tried to absorb the question he just asked you. This was what you’ve been waiting for. You’re so happy you’re eyes are watering as your try to dab the tears off with your sleeve as you sniffle.
“Yes.. Daichi, you can!” clasping your hands over your mouth as you pleaded at him. Hearing your words, he’s never been happier than playing on the court with his team. Daichi’s helping you up from the swing as you wrap your arms around his neck, looking up at him with a massive beam as his eyes soften to look at you with a gentle smile. From there, he��s walking you back home, like that time where he graduated during that hot summer night. 
Another year passes by, you and Daichi are both doing well in college despite going to different campuses. Every few weeks its either you or him at each others’ doorstep to go on your little dates. Any little thing that came between your relationship with Daichi was always overcomed by the strong communication you both shared with each other. That was until you’ve both received an invitation in the mail from Coach Ukai. It’s been two years, what would Coach want from us if we’ve both already graduated?
Upon opening the letter, you recognize the cute hand writing. It was Yachi’s! You’re filled with excitement as you tore the little letter out of the envelope. The first characters read: YOU’VE BEEN INVITED TO KARASUNO’S BOYS VOLLEYBALL BANQUET!! You were beyond wowed when you realized you’re gonna be able to see your underclassmen as third years. Obviously, you rushed to RSVP with the number attached at the bottom of the letter. You immediately texted Daichi about the reunion that was planned by Coach, and the remaining third years. 
You’re up texting him and the others who’ve also graduated about how nice it’s gonna be to see them again. That was when you registered in your mind that you’re gonna have to tell them all that you’re now dating Daichi, their former team captain! In shock, you messaged him that you’re both gonna have to reveal this long, awaited secret of yours.
Days seemed to fly by, and the day of the reunion crept closer and closer. The day of, you invited Daichi over to get ready with you. This wasn’t the first time having him in your house, your parents love him, especially making him do chores around your house. You reach the bottom of the stairs to put on your shoes when you heard the vacuum being turned on in the living room, that’s definitely him being put to work, laughing to yourself as you call out his name with your hand on the front door. 
Walking towards the front entrance of your high school, memories flooded towards you. It was like the first day of school again, your heart racing out of your chest. Daichi notices that you’re started to tense up and puts his hand over your waist to calm you down as he slows down your walking pace.
“Don’t be so nervous. We know these people. Let’s walk in and make them remember who we are.” Daichi’s gingerly smiling at you with a slight flick of light in his eyes, waiting for your reaction as you mumbled at him with a little Mhm.
The gym doors were open wide, welcoming the people who walked in before you. Letting out a deep sigh, you boldly followed after them with Daichi’s big hand around your waist. Everyone’s eyes lit up when they saw you two walk in. Especially Nishinoya who shushed Tanaka with his finger to stare at you both. One by one people started to swarm up to you two, darting down questions for you and Daichi to answer as if they were paparazzi. Luckily, Yachi’s able to pull you out of the crowd and onto the side leaving, Daichi scratching his head trying to respond to them all.
“Oh my gosh!!! Are you and Daichi a THING??? Why haven’t you told me anything!!!” Yachi’s shaking you by your arms as you laughed out loud. It’s been so long since you’ve seen your favorite underclassman, she’s grown up to take up yours and Kiyoko’s position as head manager of the boys volleyball team. You’re practically beaming with delight as you try to dodge as many questions as possible. The flood of people dispersed when you tried to take a glance back at Daichi.
Your boyfriend was in the corner talking to Nishinoya and Tanaka. They both had the most shocked appearance on their faces as they completely ran over to interrogate your boyfriend. You could hear them shout across the gym with a couple loud HUH’s and WHAT?? You couldn’t really believe it either, transferring in from another school, to dating the boys’ volleyball captain after you graduated. Not to mention how socially awkward you were when you first introduced yourself. 
Yachi walks you over to the selection of food you could choose from to plop onto your plate as she grabs herself a drink. You’re sitting at the table across from her, catching up and asking about how the team’s been after your year left, waiting for Daichi to soon accompany you. Right as you thought about him you feel a hand on your shoulder, turning back he’s holding a plate of food as he sits next to you, greeting Yachi. Though, he wasn’t the only one who sat down at your table.
Nishinoya and Tanaka had both raced over when they realized Daichi wasn’t standing in front of them when they looked back for a second. They both sat next to Yachi, now the three are all looking at you both with squinty eyes. Nishinoya and Tanaka look at each other before leaning in towards you and Daichi. 
“Aren’t you both gonna tell us what’s been going on and how you two ended up this way huh?? Putting the moves on our manager like that, former captain?” Tanaka’s jokingly questioning Daichi with his face inching closer while Daichi’s nervously laughing. Sugawara, who’s sitting behind you guys hears Tanaka’s voice over the gym’s murmurs and looks back to place a hand on Daichi’s shoulder. Daichi’s eyes make eye contact with Sugawara’s and your gaze. He was seeking for your approval before telling the team how you’ve come to be, to which you happily agreed to reveal to them.
“Well.. look. Actually, I’ll start from the beginning.” Daichi’s voice echoed in the heated room, catching the attention of others sitting at the tables near yours as they kept silent to hear your little love story unravel.
masterlist here
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ladybyakuya · 6 months ago
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꒰ WHY DO I STILL LOVE YOU ꒱ ⋮ SUNA RINTARO → [ CONTENT & TAGS ]: f! reader ( can be read as gn! reader) x suna, angst, suggestive, fluff, hurt and comfort. // syn. | Suna thinks he can't pretend anymore of this arrangement or however you would like to put it so he takes a few steps forward including yours and all towards you. Now, all you have to do is to, just . . . voice your thoughts. wc -1.5kish // back to blog navigation. | @6-022-10-23 @sunarc
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It is a privilege to be able to come home late at night, unharmed especially on weekends perfectly safe and sound, to not shake like a leaf on your way home, to not be afraid of your own shadow, mind, and heart in constant turmoil whether anyone is following you or not. And it is all possible because someone is with you, someone like Suna. Once in a while when the Inarazaki boys hang out together even after being busy with their saturated lives Rintaro never forgets to take you with him. It is like a ritual to home that twice a month on the third weekend of the month he will be waiting at the turn of your home exactly at seven o'clock to pick you up. Over the years, you would see new faces once in a while but certain ones are permanent the possibility of never seeing any of them is kind of scary and whatever happened at today's gathering might be considered a stepping stone for such dreadful outcomes.
Unlike other days, your head is not filled with the cool breeze and intoxication and your palms are firmly curled around the metal bar behind your back. If it had been any other day, your head would be filled with the after-effects of the party, casual chatting once in a while and your arms hooked around Suna's waist as he drove at a steady speed, not too fast yet not too slow. It is always the perfect consistency between you and him. Anyone would hate to fuck it up, even someone who has been friends with him for more than ten years. By now, everyone is convinced that you two are in a relationship but no one was much sure about it, not even Suna or you confirmed it. Everyone sort of thinks you two are a couple since neither of you entertained others romantically but when asked both of you would joke about it. You sure talked about how Suna never felt sour when he was being associated with you but what exactly it was? It never occurred to you and neither to him to talk to each other about what exactly it was yet both of you took it as a sport during school days. And now when he was asked certain questions he joked, like always even after ten years he could keep up the pace. How humourous is that!
The ride back from the get-together to your home takes about an hour. Never before he has worn the helmet once but of course insists you wear one and undoubtedly fails miserably. There are still twenty minutes left to reach home and if you do not voice your thoughts now, you are seriously gonna bruise the inner side of your bottom lip. You pull his helmet away his balance is disturbed for a moment but he does not stop. Now, you are sitting at the back with his helmet in between your hands with your helmet on. Even if you did talk, he would not be able to hear it all. Suna can imagine the "I'm so done" face you are making right now but when he feels the hard poke of your helmet on his back his smile sways away from his face. He slows the speed of his bike and halts at a nearby corner. Your head perks up like a meerkat and he slides open the helmet. "I thought you fell asleep." Yeah! it is perfectly normal for someone to pull away the helmet and fall asleep right away. Silence follows accompanied by his scrutinizing eye contact with you. He always looks at you with those eyes, as if he is analyzing you, a look you are all too familiar and comfortable with. You could easily whine and get away with it. He could easily tease you about drinking too much at his home, wait for your high to evaporate, helping you to sober up before getting home. Yeah, he is too sweet to you. No idea how long this intense staring was gonna last but you are the one to look away and say something. Suna could only make the "what" and "that" part of it. His eyebrows grow closer and then ease up the very next moment.
"Y/N, if you don't get down I won't be able to get down." He says as politely as possible. Suna, at times, can be impatient but by now he should be a walking manual book for "how to behave with Y/N when one is getting a silent treatment" You look at him again, and blink. once. twice and then your eyes lower to the helmet at your hand. "Oh! Right." Suna says taking it away from your hand and keeping it on the engine of the bike. The wave of guilt hits him when you do not use his shoulders as support to get down from his bike, perfectly taking off your helmet and keeping behind him. Suna can not even ask what's with all these since he is aware. He is aware of what exactly is this and what kind of wave is coming next.
"What was that?" you curtly ask folding your hands in your chest demanding an elaborate answer with any detours.
"What was what?" Oh wow! now Suna decides to play dumb yet not when he was asked about how he fell for you; what exactly it was that made him swoon for you? And, as for your opinion, his giving into the tease felt a little too real to dismiss it as "typical suna" behaviour. It sounded like a confession.
Without playing around, you just got straight to the point, "What you said at the party. about how we met and how we are . . ." you pause and Suna rolls his tongue inside his mouth looking away. " Well, don't avoid my eyes Rin. You know you owe me an explanation. If not now, you will have to explain it to me." His Adam apple bobs at the tone of your talk. It is perfectly calm yet so desperate. Suna just gives you silent treatment not even looking at you, keeping his head down.
"I'm sorry. I should not have acted the way I did today." He remarks lowly rubbing circles on the back of his helmet.
"That's it?"
"what else there is to say?"
"I'm not asking for your apology. I'm asking for an explanation."
"why?" Suna finally looks up. " did I say anything wrong? did I say anything that made you uncomfortable?" He sees how you back away even though he did not raise his voice at you. "If so, then I'm sorry. I didn't want to." He dips his head again.
"I'm not saying that what you did was wrong." You sigh and then look away. " I'm just asking why did you do it?"
"they were asking too many questions. so, I wanted to shut them up. once and for all."
"they are your friends Rin. your childhood friends. you've spent half of your lifetime with them. they are gonna tease you the rest of your life. you can not give in to that every time. " That's it? You are already satisfied with his crass-ass answer? Suna's brain goes on auto pilate when you put on your helmet, and rest one of your arms on his shoulder to use him a support for getting on the bike.
He swings his hand around your waist saying, "My turn to ask questions." He maintains eye contact. "so, are you satisfied with my explanation?"
"no."
"did Didby by any means make you uncomfortable about what I said?"
"No."
"then, what exactly are you angry for?"
"I'm not angry," you say looking away and biting your lip again.
"disappointed then?" Suna says taking your other hand in his, " I can make it right if you give me a chance."
You scoff loudly tipping your head down. Yes. You are disappointed but not at him, at fate, at circumstances. Your vision becomes blurry. You swallow to keep the water at the brim of your eyes. Suna is interlacing his fingers with yours as you look up at him and say, "It's too late." You swallow again as he stops mid-way from kissing your knuckles. "I'm in a relationship already." Suna jerks himself away from your embrace as you finish your sentence.
He tips his head again. "are you happy? in your relationship?"
"we just started dating,"
Suna gives a wry smile. "well, it's not like we were not in touch with each other. when were you going to tell me?"
"I don't have to tell you everything that happened in my life. I don't owe you anything."
Suna's eyebrows knit together and it stays like that. You are spoken for. That is a fact so insignificant to you that you did not bother to mention it to him or is it too important that you wanted to hide . . . to protect it from him or is it that you wanted to protect him from being his emotions getting run over. He wants to give it straight to you, from the moment he met you to now, about why he acted the way he acted tonight, about how he meant all those jokes and teases yet instead he says, "At least you owe me a little so that I can tease you about it."
His eyes were still on you for a few seconds. "Since you aren't drunk I'll just drop you home. Hop on." he wore his helmet and pressed the handle of his bike. There is no point in talking now once Suna decides to give the same silent treatment that you occasionally do when you are just drunk.
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liillyliilly · 4 months ago
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mentos and coke-a-cola kuroo tetsurou x reader words; 15706 synopsis: as vice captain of a co-ed intramural team, you found yourself increasingly close to the members of your team. including the witty, loving, captain of yours, kuroo tetsurou.
FROM TETSUROU: ATTACHED: 3 IMAGES
You think to yourself, how many times did you have to tell Kuroo Tetsurou that you were not in fact his personal gym journal? Sitting at the central table of the university library, you had to quickly set your phone down. Then, you opened your laptop to text him, glad that your laptop blurred photos unless you had clicked on them.
This hadn’t been the first time he’d sent you photos of him. Nor had it been the second. By the eighth time it had become routine, he’d send what he considered the ‘best’ photos from the week to you, and expect detailed analysis and thoughts on the way his joggers hung low on his hips with Calvin Klein underwear showing the brand label boldly.
He always posed without his face showing in the photos. Just glimpses of his chin or cheek in the photos. Even though that had always been your only suggestion for him, just a little more of his face and a little less of the v-shaped muscles near his hips.
Kuroo never understood why the most obvious form of flirting never worked on you. Perhaps it had been because of your systematic desensitization to the possibility that he was trying to overtly make you see him as attractive. Perhaps it was all in his mind. The concept that photos could equate to romance. Or how he began deluding himself into finally overcoming the imposed relationship barriers you had begun building once you joined his recreation team for intramural volleyball at The University of Tokyo.
TO TETSUROU: kuroo put the softcore porn thirst traps away 🤢
FROM TETSUROU: i need your opinion
TO TETSUROU: ??? my opinion? i don’t have an opinion on your abdominal muscles or your back or your arms. I need to STUDY the human ego not your body (my philosophy major homework is kicking my butt right now)
You flit from the message tab on your laptop, opening a pdf copy of your textbook to copy notes from. You just needed to finish two more chapters and then you would drop by Kuroo’s place for dinner. He had invited the whole team, but everyone else said that they couldn’t make it. You had tried to deny his offer, but everyone else in the team said that you should just accept the free food.
The part that you hadn’t known at that time was that there were two group chats related to your volleyball team, Consensual Sets. (The team name had all been Ito’s idea, the setter on your team. Kuroo had strongly suggested Setters of Catan, and you had proposed Block Party. In the end, Ito’s pun won the hearts of the rest of your seven member team.) There was one group chat that had everyone, and another that had everyone but you in the messaging history.
Kuroo had dubbed the secondary chat as his collection of wing-people. But mostly they were unhelpful in actually progressing his romance with you. But this time, the dinner he wanted to have was successfully handled by the other five members. It was simple for the rest of the team to just decline the offer due to fake excuses and then to strongly encourage you to go get food with Kuroo at the end of what had been a long week for you academically.
FROM TETSUROU: you drive me crazy 🤕 (just drop out of philosophy and switch your major, all the cool kids do that my dear confucius)
Kuroo was wiping sweat from his forehead using a towel in his bathroom. Instead of doing cardio at the gym, he had decided to just run back to his apartment on the outskirts of the university. That way he could shower before you’d show up to get food. He still didn’t have an idea about where to take you. There was a fine line between a potential date and forcing you to go to a fancy restaurant against your will. He didn’t want just to go to a drive-through, but then he remembered how much you loved the fries at that one burger shop.
He would always try to make you eat a balanced meal, trying to make your diet secretly better. It was all for your good though, because he was aiming to make you live to be 100 through his secret dietary aids he had been slowly integrating. Hell, you couldn’t even eat pizza without also craving a side salad now because of Kuroo’s insistent nature.
TO TETSUROU: i will forcibly remove my number from your phone pls give me peace of mind and stop acting as a shoulder devil for my future career choices
FROM TETSUROU: you love me really
And you did, you loved him like a best friend. Almost like an overbearing, annoying, childish older brother. But also, as a role model to some degree. If you could call being the captain of your co-ed volleyball recreation league team a role model figure in your life.
It was around thirty minutes later when you finally shoved your laptop into your bag and got onto your electric skateboard to get to Kuroo’s apartment.
Knocking a few times, you had shoved your board under your arm and unclasped your helmet.
He swung the door open with a big smile, “I got Thai. From Suguru’s mom’s restaurant, discounts for friends of that brat.”
You rested your board against the door once you had entered his apartment, removing your helmet and trying to pin down the hairs that had been rustled by your head protection.
You set your helmet down on the coffee table near the entrance, setting your board against the wall unobtrusively, “Suguru’s mom is such a sweetheart, remember when she brought food for our team after our big loss last year?”
Daishou’s mother also bought the team amulets, with Nagas (which you had learned were essentially snakes) surrounding a Buddha for good luck and for protection. Yours hung up in your living room, next to your roommates various other key chains. Before you left the house, you always rubbed the charm. If the luck Daishou’s mom seemed to have was due to the amulet, then there wouldn’t be any harm in trying to get some of it to rub off on you as well.
Kuroo pulls out a chair for you and you sit down proceeding to open some chopsticks. One pair for you, and then you open another for Kuroo, resting the wood utensils onto his plate. He opened the fridge and poured some glasses of water from his Brita.
He smiles to himself when he finally sits down, “We really couldn’t stay sad when we had khao soi and pad kra pao, and that mango sticky rice. I dream about that sticky rice literally every night.”
You agree, accepting the styrofoam box from Kuroo to get some rice and egg onto your dish. Kuroo was busy pouring curry onto his plate.
“It was so sad that we lost last year.” You chew your food, waving your chopsticks around a little in the air, “If only we had gotten more team practice time in, I think we almost could’ve been up to your level Tetsurou.”
Kuroo leans back into his chair, sipping his water, “It would take a lot more than just two practices a week to get everyone on our team last year up to my level. But this year, we might actually have a chance, The Consensual Sets have a lot of connecting people.” He sits forward again, getting some food into his mouth.
“Yeah, I still can’t believe Suguru agreed to join full time instead of just being an alternate! With his regular season on top of our intramural team, he’s gonna be so tired out.” You jab the chopsticks in Kuroo’s direction, emphasizing your point.
“At least he brought us a replacement alternate, Mika is gonna be great to have on the team- even with her lack of skills.”
You roll your eyes, “Mika has skills!”
“Sure.”
The other members of the team had joined Kuroo’s team for a variety of reasons. Ito Yuuta, the setter, joined because he wanted to beat his twin in intramurals this year- and because his friend from high school, Alba, was also on the team. Ito was also the only first year on your team. Alba, a spiker, joined because she needed something outside of her architecture major to keep her extra busy. She was a second year student like you.
Daishou and Mika, who came as a set due to their dating status, joined because Daishou had been convinced by Kuroo to join for fun. You suspected that Kuroo was still carrying some lingering sadness at Kenma not joining the university team, but Kenma was busy with his multi-pursuit endeavors to join a recreation league. Kenma did come to an occasional game to support his best friend though.
Mingzhe, the libero and defensive specialist, was an international student from China. He had joined the team because he was too busy with his Computer Engineering and Science double major to be apart of the regular team. The University had been devastated that Mingzhe denied their offer for him to join. But it only elevated your own team to have such a good player.
The reason you joined? Because you wanted friends. Kuroo had made a poster advertising his desire for people to join a small co-ed volleyball team. You had taken a photo of the poster, went to the open gym time that he had outlined, and the rest became history relatively quickly.
Kuroo hadn’t been captain last year though, it was a collection of older fourth and third years who made the team. All of whom were in the sports marketing major with Kuroo. But they weren’t really playing the game for the love of the sport, but rather for extra credit from their professors. The old team name had simply been ‘Extra Credit for Prof. Singh’s Sports Marketing 5910 Special Study Course’ but it was always shortened to ‘Special Study Kids’ on the excel spreadsheets that listed out opponents and playing time.
Kuroo had shifted the narrative, he wanted this year’s team to be for fun- genuine fun and love for volleyball. And you had found yourself enjoying playing, even though you were sharing a position with Kuroo who scared you with his ability to read the opponents. But Kuroo always told you that without your support blocks, then his own blocks wouldn’t work most of the time. That had been a major ego-boost.
He knew how to do that for a lot of people, you recall. Kuroo could make people feel special, feel seen, without having to do much except for just show off his sincere love for people. A person like him was rare to find even once in life, so you wanted to stick around him for a long time. (Even if Kuroo got onto your nerves, he balanced out his provocations with kindness.)
“Thanks for the food, I can’t believe everyone else said no to free food at your expense.” You pat your stomach, rolling your shoulders a little to get comfortable in the metal chairs Kuroo had.
“It’s no problem. What do you have planned for the rest of this month?”
Pursing your lips, you try to recall your schedule.
“Besides our two-a-weeks, games, and classes, I don’t have much else going on in September.”
“Do you want to come watch a game then?” Kuroo grabs your plate, starting the sink faucet, you grab a towel to dry off the two plates. He tries to bump you away with his hip, but you resist and narrow your eyes. He yields and hands you a cleaned dish to dry.
“Is it the game you were talking about at practice? The reunion game?” You set the ceramic dish onto the shelf, waiting for Kuroo to hand you the other plate to dry.
“Yeah, it’s a bunch of my buddies from high school, we wanted to play a game before some of our pals leave for other countries to play professionally. Remember Bokuto? I mentioned him a few times.”
“The owl furry guy?”
Kuroo chuckles, turning around and leaning against the sink to watch you put the other plate away onto the cupboard shelf. “Yes, the owl guy. And Kenma will be playing, and Akaashi, and Fukunaga, and Kai, and-”
“I think I get it. A Nekoma versus Fukurodani game?” You suggest.
You had met Fukunaga once before, when Kuroo took the team to a comedy show of his the day before a match some time ago. Fukunaga’s set had been so hilarious that you asked Kuroo to personally introduce you to the comedian. Kuroo had been hesitant, for reasons unknown to you, but ultimately gave in to you and introduced the pair of you.
Fukunaga had taken one look at you and immediately pointed out what he liked about you. Which made you laugh, Kuroo hadn’t been entertained by that joke though. His reaction had been furrowed eyebrows, a huff, and defensively folding his arms- you had pointed out how overly dramatic Kuroo could be sometimes. Fukunaga had just smiled and shook his head.
Kuroo clarifies about the game, “More like a Nekoma versus an agglomeration of other high schools. Hinata, this crazy little dude, and my protege Tsukishima will play with Akaashi and Bokuto.”
“Okay, I’ll bite, I’m in.”
He had texted you the details of where to go, when to be there, and what color to wear to show your support for Kuroo’s team. You had been tempted to wear anything but the red and black combo he asked you to wear, but in the end, you wanted to be a good friend and wore what he asked you to wear.
The game was intense, to say the least. A lot more yelling and commands came from Kuroo than you had seen during your own games. It was nearing the end of September, and instead of studying for an exam, you were here in a gym watching a group of cohorts from the Volleyball World of High Schoolers play to their heart’s contentment.
You screamed when Kuroo got a good block, and you remained quiet when the opposing team scored a point. One of the things you noticed was how much higher they had made the net. In the intramural league, the net was at least a few centimeters shorter than the one they were playing with.
The tall blonde made a face at Kuroo through the net, and you almost found yourself laughing at how Kuroo teased him back. A ginger with the jumping power of a kangaroo kept making the most insane plays you had ever seen, keeping you on the edge of your seat for most of the game.
Ultimately, the Nekoma reunion team takes the win. You could see Kenma’s sour expression from where you had been sitting. Kenma immediately went to sit on the bench to play on his nintendo when the rest of his team was clapping each other on the backs.
Kuroo waved you over, face beaming.
When he pulls you in for a hug, you realize your hands get wet, soaked, not even a little damp but instead dripping wet. But he keeps his arms tightly around your waist. It wasn’t one of the usual hugs you exchanged with him, where your arms crossed around his chest and he did the same. In this hug, he had wrapped both arms around your waist, which made you wrap neatly into his chest.
"Your jersey is soaked, did they pour water over you Tetsurou?" You chuckle a little, talking into his body almost.
"Nope. This is all homemade sweat."
You pull away from the hug, wiping your hands on your thighs. Only to realize that your red shirt is soaked through the front as well, an imprint of his body outline on yours. You grimace, knowing that you now smell heavily of a unique perfume you’d dub ‘Kuroo après le match de volley’.
Kuroo shrugs, then wraps his arms around you again, which earns him a groan from you.
"You love me really."
You don’t say anything in response, letting him have his moment.
The post-game dinner was fun, even if you did have to complain to Kuroo about him buying your food for you. He had been too insistent about paying, even secretly paying for you when you went to the restroom.
“You took the train, yeah?” Kuroo asks once you exit the restaurant.
“Yep.”
Nighttime on the bullet train in Tokyo back to the university was always your favorite. Being able to stuff your ears full of music while you watch the passing scenery had such a hold over your emotional well-being. During train rides like that you thought maybe you could study Ralph Waldo Emerson again. But then you push away the thought because you remembered how much of an annoyance you found reading his pieces. You would always prefer Thoreau to Emerson at the end of the day when talking about the Transcendentalist Movement.
Kuroo nods, yelling out, “Kenma, I’m gonna take the train, you’re good to head back to your house! Text you later!” He waves enthusiastically to Kenma, who just throws a thumbs-up in regard to Kuroo’s statement.
The walk is mostly silent, with hands brushing against each other. The train station is vaguely busy. Kuroo had changed into some joggers and a loose t-shirt that had a neckline that was a little too stretched out so you could see his collarbones and the start of his chest. The design of the shirt was a logo for a cologne brand, with cursive writing.
While waiting for the train, you kicked your feet against the pavement a little, listening to Kuroo talk about the game and his favorite moments. His passion for volleyball was clear, but it just wasn’t the only thing Kuroo wanted to do for the rest of his life. His love for teaching other people, and helping others achieve their own passion outweighed his personal feelings. He just had a heart so open and willing to help others, that the blurred lines of what he loved and what others loved had become interwoven.
His belief of lowering the net for others, that helping aspect of his personality shone through with your recreation team. Although it was a casual team, it also meant so much more to everyone because Kuroo’s appreciation and understanding for the volleyball essentials and foundations made everyone want to do better. Made everyone want to play volleyball.
The train roared in, and you lifted your head, going to stand near the yellow painted lines where the door would be near. You turned around, and Kuroo was still standing fairly far away.
“Tetsurou?” You held your hand out for him to take, an effort to urge him to wait nearby with you.
Kuroo freezes. In his mind, his slightly exhausted mind that had lowered inhibitions from physically exerting himself with the game earlier, the two options were to grab your hand or to play around with you. He let his teasing, flirtatious, scheming personality win out over his shyness and earnest kindness.
He bent down, and rested his chin in the palm of your hand, so you had ended up squishing his face slightly. Once you realized that it was his face in your hand, you tried to tug your hand away with a laugh and with your tongue peeking out between your teeth as you bit down on it.
Kuroo didn’t know how to stop when he was ahead. He used his hand to grab a hold of your wrist. Then he gently bit down on the space between your pointer finger and thumb, pressing a kiss to the skin immediately after. And he would’ve continued with the affectionate kisses to your hand, but you swallowed thickly and your fingers began to twitch.
You couldn’t comprehend why you had wanted him to keep going. It was knotting your stomach, and turning the gears in your brain.
He stood up properly, noticing how the train had stopped. He slid a hand into your hand that was still outstretched and stunned from his actions, “The train won’t wait for us, c’mon Confucious.”
That night, you had spent a lot of time looking up onto your ceiling. Tapping your tummy to make little songs as you run through the day you had experienced over and over again.
Your phone dings.
FROM TETSUROU: ATTACHED: 3 IMAGES
FROM TETSUROU: thanks for coming to the game! hope you had a good time watching. kenma got photos of us celebrating after nekoma grad team won
FROM TETSUROU: im really glad you wore red
Kuroo’s head is resting on his pillow, the light of his phone shining on his face as he lays on his bed in the dark. He can feel his palms sweating, and he keeps shoving his face into the pillow before taking a peek at his phone again. Under the blankets, his feet keep bouncing from the mattress as he fights against what feels like hypertension in his blood. You still hadn’t responded to his messages.
You looked at your phone for a moment, your eyes slightly static and blurry. You read his messages, trying to think of what to say. Your red shirt lays in your dirty clothes basket, and a grin starts to make your face hurt.
FROM TETSUROU: i think i love you
FROM TETSUROU: i love you a lot
FROM TETSUROU: do you think you could love me back?
FROM TETSUROU: UNSENT THREE MESSAGES
You look at the notification that tells you Kuroo unsent texts that you hadn’t got the chance to read. You shrug, responding to the messages you did get a chance to read.
TO TETSUROU: the game was so much fun! wearing red for you was also fun, i felt like a cheerleader lowkey- i mean you should’ve seen some of the looks i got from this grandma who clearly just wanted to watch the game lol after the game tho! she said it was nice to see young people cheering so passionately so i guess her dirty looks were all in my mind
FROM TETSUROU: that’s hilarious- whose granny was it tho 💀
TO TETSUROU: no idea but she really liked you 🫣
FROM TETSUROU: 😐
TO TETSUROU: i’ll see you at practice next saturday! goodnight tetsurou, sleep well
FROM TETSUROU: goodnight ♥️
FROM TETSUROU: UNSENT ONE MESSAGE
FROM TETSUROU: goodnight confucius 🙂
The first Saturday of October was a practice for the members of Consensual Sets. You were busy tossing serves over the net for Mingzhe to receive. Alba was jumping on Ito’s shoulders as she asked him repeatedly to let her tape up his fingers this time. Daishou and Mika were tugging on their knee pads, and when Mika started pouting at the way her nails got tugged by the fabric, Daishou knelt in front of her and pulled the pads up where they belonged with a huge smile as he looked up at her.
Daishou and Mingzhe wanted to do some quick laps outside, but you wanted to warm up by doing some flying dives. While the flying dives did hurt your elbows from impact catching your weight, they made for great practice to get you better prepared for your back row position duties. Alba finally got to tape up Ito’s fingers as he looked terrified at giving her the tape he used.
Mika decided to stretch out, only really getting ready to hit some serves for the rest of the team today. Her role as a support, and as an alternate wasn’t needed for most games, but in case of emergency, at least she had created a weapon for herself with that nasty jump float that makes you chew the inside of your mouth.
Fifteen minutes into the practice, when everyone was done warming up and getting water, you looked around the gym. The only other people here were a group of basketball guys playing a game of pick-up on the other end of the courts away from where you’d set up the net. You were the first one to notice a lack of one particular person.
“Does anyone know where Tetsurou is?” You ask, going over the bench were Mingzhe was meditating.
Ito shrugged, “Maybe he couldn’t make it today?”
Alba rests her chin on Ito’s shoulder, commenting, “Perhaps he’s sick? Our fearless leader lost to the measly germs of society. Damn it, I curse the bloodline of those germs.” She dramatically clenches her first and Ito tries to hide an amused smile on his face.
“I’ll text him, I’m sure he’s just running late.” Daishou says, accepting his phone from Mika.
You, as vice captain of the team, decide the best course of action is to start running some drills. 10 spikes, 10 serves, 10 receives, and then 10 blocks. Each person alternated the roles until everyones did their 10x4 drill.
Even after the drill, Kuroo still hadn’t shown up.
“Suguru, any sign of Tetsurou?” You question, getting some water.
Mingzhe, looking nearly sweatless and unaffected by the drills, is still meditating in the center of the court. Alba tried waving her hand in front of his face. But Mingzhe opened one eye right when she started making a face- which caused her to jump back in alarm. Ito audibly laughed at that exchange while adjusting his taped fingers, away from where Alba could see so that he didn’t hurt her feelings.
“He said he can’t make it, something about a presentation for a class of his, apparently it slipped his mind. But he did send me a list of what we should do today. Let’s go for two miles outside!” Daishou shouted out the instruction to the rest of the team, then patted you on the shoulder. “Don’t worry so much, Tetsu would let you know if something happened to him. I think you’d be the first to know if he got hurt or sick or something. Trust him.”
After practice, you make your way to Kuroo’s building, the one where all his classes were held.
You scanned your badge and entered the building, appreciating the cool sports poster that Kuroo’s department had covering the walls. Tall posters of soccer players, basketball players, and even some table tennis players. The coolest one was a blue poster where a soccer player had altered edited eyes to seem like they shined gold, and there was a huge skeleton behind them making the player look imposing and strong. You snuck a photo of the poster, then shoved your phone back into your pocket.
The weight of the spam musubi you got for Kuroo, and the two cold banana drinks made your bag feel heftier than usual. In reality, the actual tangible weight didn’t affect anything. You just felt strange being in a building that wasn’t your own.
And you’d been thinking about Kuroo again. More specifically, the way he’d bitten and then kissed your hand. You felt your throat swallow thickly as your brain flashed images of what it might have been like if he had bitten and kissed elsewhere on your body. Of course, Kuroo had done it as a tease, a little game, you reason.
But why did your heart begin to stutter when you found him sitting in a niche, his hand in his hair as he scrolled through his laptop? He looked exhausted, and slightly upset. He was bouncing his leg, his knee hitting the top of the table occasionally.
You slid into the alcove opposite of Kuroo, pulling out the treats you got for him.
“Tetsurou, take a quick break.” You shoved the musubi and drink in his direction.
Kuroo shut his laptop, then looked from the food to your face then back to the food. He covered his face in his hands as he propped his elbows onto the table. His words were muffled by his hands, “Thank you.”
You reached out and touched his forearm, “It’s no problem, eat up.”
He tried to split the spam musubi but you shook your head, holding your hand up to deny him. He gave a downturned smile as he bit into the sustenance. He let out a hum, “This is really good, this is just what I needed.”
Sipping on the banana drink, you rested your foot overtop of his under the table.
“How did the presentation go?” You purse your lips, trying to give Kuroo your best hopeful look.
Kurooo grimaced a little, “Professor Singh said it needed some more work.”
“What was the grade?” You prepared yourself for the worst. That Kuroo failed and would need to disband the team that you’d grown so attached to. And your next game was in three weeks, at the end of October too.
“Oh he gave me full credit, said it was the best he’s seen this year. But if I want it to be my thesis project for senior year next year, then it would need more tuning. Then he proceeded to give me a list of corrections to make.” He pulled out a sheet of paper that was bulleted, Kuroo gave it to you to read and you started feeling bad for him.
He finished off the musubi, then rubbed his eyes, his reading glasses pushed up onto the top of his head in the process, “This isn’t even half of the things that need to be fixed. Professor Singh said he’d help me though, so it’s not like it’s the end of the world.”
“Still, I’m sorry, that’s rough.” You suck in some air through your teeth, and click your tongue just barely, “I’m sorry.”
Kuroo waves his hand to diffuse the air between you two.
He rolls the sleeves of his white button up down, the arms are wrinkled, and he undoes the top button of his shirt, releasing his throat a little so he can relax into his spot. Kuroo sets his head on the table, his hand on the bottled drink you had gotten him, he rocks the bottle around in circles, the liquid sloshing inside.
You bite the inside of your mouth, racking your brain to look for anything that could possibly ease Kuroo’s contemplations.
“Did you still want to try my electric skateboard out?”
Kuroo jolts up, sitting with his back straight.
“Hell yes. Please teach me.” He holds his hands flat together in front of his face in what you recognized as some kind of prayer posturing.
“Okay, my dorm is just a few miles away, let’s head out.” You pull your backpack over your shoulders as Kuroo tucks his laptop into the shoulder bag he has.
For a moment, you fight against the urge to hold your hand out for him to take.
When you do end up holding your hand out, ready to accept his, Kuroo wipes his hand against his thigh discreetly before he rushes to grab a hold of your hand. His hand is bigger than yours, more rough, but it’s warm and comforting with the way that he intertwines your fingers with his. He swings your connected hands back and forth as he starts talking about the upcoming game, and how he’ll go into the gym with Daishou to join in on Daishou’s regular practices with the university volleyball team tomorrow.
Kuroo was not built for your skateboard, but he had fun trying to balance on it as you tried to support him with hands on his waist.
“I’m ticklish there.” He feels his stomach tighten when you squeeze his sides.
“Blah, I’m trying to prevent you from eating dirt. I can’t hold you by the shoulders since you’re too tall standing on the board.” You explain, keeping one foot on the back of the board to keep it from moving too much as Kuroo wiggles around trying to find a balance.
You probably spent two hours trying to get him to actually start the board up and go further than a few strides away from you. But in the end, he could successfully circle around you without your hands supporting him. Alba and Ito came around to the part of the campus you and Kuroo were occupying.
Alba jumped up and down as Ito covered his ears, awaiting Alba’s yells to call for attention. She was tossing up a Mikasa volleyball, and Ito had a Molten under his arm.
“Let’s play two versus two since Kuroo couldn’t be bothered to come to practice today.” Alba lifted a hand up and spiked the ball in your direction, and you received the ball with ease as you dropped your hips and crouched down. Kuroo caught the ball you had dug out, spinning it in on a fingertip before just palming the ball with one hand.
Ito rolled his eyes and rolled his shoulder, “Not today, it’s almost dark out.”
Alba took her ball from Kuroo, trying to balance it on her head.
“What does our gorgeous vice captain have to say then? Let her decide, my absolute queen.” Alba blows a kiss in your direction, which you fake catch with one hand before pressing your palm to your heart and playfully, although also impishly, sighing deeply.
You glance at Kuroo’s expectant eyes, he adjusted his shoulder bag again. He was still in his dressy presentation clothes.
“Maybe next time, it’s been a long day, my legs are jello and my arms are sore.” You complain lightly, “But Alba, maybe Ito wants to play DIG 2000 on the computer with you?”
Ito smiled, DIG 2000 was a simulation game similar to the FIFA 23 sports video game. Alba nodded, bouncing the volleyball on her head a few times before turning to Ito, “Let’s go back to yours then.”
Ito copied Alba, bouncing the volleyball with his foot instead of head, and nodded, “Sounds good.”
The pair walked off, Alba talking excitedly and Ito listening intently.
Kuroo walked to stand close by you, holding your skateboard in his hand.
“If they don’t start dating, I don’t think I’ll ever believe in love.” He jokes.
You raise an eyebrow, “Really? But you love all people, you got that big heart behind all the muscle. I find it hard to believe that you need proof of romantic love to believe in love at all.” You think about Plato’s symposium which defined love as two people becoming one through a connection and Aristotle's emphasis on philia, the platonic love between friends.
Western love philosophy had always been rooted in two main branches of thought, the classical beliefs of the ancients such as Plato and then the French Skepticism that believed love was a guise for sexual fulfillment.
You noted that you’d have to thank your professor for their in depth analysis about the Love Unit your class had covered earlier in the year. Clearly, more than you realized had stuck into your brain.
Kuroo starts walking back to your dorm, you trailing after him.
“I think that love can be found in all things, but I was more so thinking about Alba and Ito you know? Like, if I see two people like them, who are clearly compatible, then it feels wrong when they don’t become more than just friends. When clearly, like, they’d be brilliant together. The way they bounce off each other for example,” Kuroo focuses his eyes straight ahead, knowing that you’re looking at him with those bright and curious eyes he’d fallen for- knowing that he’d be powerless to look away once he locked eyes with you.
Kuroo continues, “I mean, Ito takes such good care of Alba, and she doesn’t even realize that she reciprocates naturally sometimes. Like all the times she asks to tape his fingers before a game or practice, and he reluctantly lets her? Then he proceeds to fix the tape when he knows she isn’t looking. That’s love.” You can hear the sigh he lets out with his concluding statement.
You take your board back from Kuroo, playing with one of the wheels as you bump your hip into his for a moment, then you give your two cents to the discussion.
“But does that mean they need to be romantically involved? If we’re using our friends as examples, then I’d like to point out Daishou and Mika. Or even Mingzhe as an example. When we see Daishou and Mika, it is very blatant that they’re in love. They equally fawn over each other, they kiss, they feel that physical pull. When we look at Ito and Alba, they never cross that physical boundary. I think that love has a physical element to it as well as emotional. I think they might just love each other as best friends.”
Kuroo swallows, puffing out his cheeks for a second. If you believed that love needed a physical element, then why did you initiate touch with him just as frequently as he did with you? He wasn’t so egotistical to believe that you were hiding feelings from him, but it was a unique argument to think about in his head. He feels the heat in his cheeks and his ears, he’d kissed you before. Albeit, on the hand, but it had been a kiss. You’d let him cross a boundary that he wasn’t sure even existed between you two.
If the kiss had been anywhere else, would you have let him press his lips so tenderly and longingly the way he did? Would you have pushed him away? Would you’ve made a disgusted look? Would you reciprocate, kissing him back?
He’d known you for two years now, and he wasn’t sure about anything besides the fact that he wanted you to stick around him for as long as possible. For eternity if possible. For infinity, if it existed. He wanted that physical element though too, to hold and kiss you. To bite your earlobe, to scratch your back, to hold the back of your knee as he pressed his lips to the inside of your thigh.
He releases a breath, looking at the space between your eyebrows rather than your eyes.
“What about the innocent kind of love? Love shared between kids for example, they don’t necessarily cross that physical boundary you talk about. But you know when two kids love each other. It isn’t just that physical element that adds to the definition of love, it’s simply the feeling shared equally between two people. It isn’t just friendship, but it’s clearly love.”
“I don’t know. That’s a good point though. There’s definitely nuance, and I think I might have philosophized myself into a corner here.” You laugh, smiling at Kuroo.
The layers to this conversation had begun to hurt your head. Philosophy was much easier when it was sitting behind a desk, at your laptop. Philosophy was harder when it seemed like Kuroo was pressing you for answers, for your thoughts rather than a structured argumentative essay with dozens of academic pieces of evidence.
At the end of October was a selection of games to be played all Friday evening. All the intramural recreation teams were at the large gym of the university, and the Consensual Sets put on the team shirts made by Mingzhe. They were a dark grey, with the team name printed on the front, and everyone’s nicknames on the back of the jersey style top.
Kuroo just had Tetsu on the back of his. Mingzhe had put his name in a simple cursive, Alba and Ito swapped names for fun. Daishou had his full first name, and Mika put Mika-Mika as her name. As for you, you put Confucius on the back of your jersey, grateful that Kuroo had given you a nickname that actually suited your personality.
After winning the first two games, you found yourself playing against another team that had been undefeated for the entire intramural season thus far.
It was halfway through the second set, and you were exhausted. But just one more rotation before Kuroo would be back to the front with you and your killer duo block could be utilized for a perfect angle.
When Kuroo would twist his body to the side, and you’d barely skim the ball so that the spiker would be forced to send the ball straight to the libero, Mingzhe. Mingzhe had the freaky ability to reign in the ball and get it to Ito without Ito needing to move too much. Ito would then, of course, set the ball right to Daishou or Alba, depending on who would have a better shot at scoring that moment.
However, in this current rotation, you were on the end of the front row, with Ito in the center of the front. Kuroo was behind you on the back row, Mingzhe on the far back corner. Daishou was on the other side of Ito. Everyone was ready to play. You could hear Alba from the back next to Mingzhe, getting after him for not wiping the sweat off his shoes. Mika was busy refilling bottles, but still ready to swap Alba or Mingzhe if needed.
“Chance ball!” You call out, getting ready to jump up for a block. But at the same moment, Ito shifted his body to try and set the ball that Alba had received. He just happened to get a little too close. So that when he was backing up and jumping to get a touch onto the volleyball, he slammed into you.
Hitting the ground with a thud, you felt the air get knocked out of you. And once you could feel the force your back had slammed into the gym floor, the combination of painful sensations was just too much and you choked out a sound of anguish. Tears were streaming down the side of your face as you were gasping for air, but ultimately just choking on your empty lungs.
“Idiot!” Kuroo shoved Ito, knocking Ito into the net. Ito held his hands up defensively, but understood the reaction Kuroo had had. The referee called an emergency time out, and called over the nurse. Kuroo had picked you up, making you sit up. His hand was rubbing your back, telling you what to do.
Ito tried to go over to you as well, but Alba had grabbed the back of his shirt and gave a look to Ito by directing his eyes to where Kuroo was holding you. She mouthed something that you couldn’t distinguish. But then again, you couldn’t distinguish much due to the panic state you found in perpetual motion within your cells.
“Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth.” Kuroo’s jaw was clenched, and his other hand was on your thigh. You kept trying to inhale through your mouth though, your body nervously reacting to the lack of oxygen. “Listen to me, c’mon, please, just relax okay. You’re safe, I got you. Just relax.”
The nurse arrived with a first aid kit, but once she saw how Kuroo was following standard protocol for an injury like this, she left the kit for Kuroo to use. He said a quick thanks, and the nurse went to go check on some other college student who had blood dripping from his mouth. The bloody kid was holding up a tooth and his teammates were clapping him on the back.
Kuroo tilted his head up and called out to where Mika was filling up bottles near the back of the gym, “Mika, can I get a water bottle over here?”
Daishou ran over to Mika, picking one up and running back over to Kuroo and you. He handed the bottle to you and crouched down on the other side of you.
You had taken a sip of the water, and your breathing was normal again, and the only concern was the pain in your mid to low back.
“You took quite a fall there, Confucius.” Kuroo brought his hand up from your back to caress your head, soothing you.
Daishou chuckled, sitting down, and stretching his legs out. But he scrambled to get back up when Mika asked for his help carrying all the other water bottles over to the Consensual Sets break bench.
Ito was busy sulking over on the bench, getting chewed out by Alba and Mingzhe for not listening to your call of ‘chance ball’. In that scenario, Ito was supposed to wait until after the rally went back over to the other team instead of trying to catch the ball to set it.
Ito was just awaiting when the true test of his spirit would be put through the wringer. That of course would be the eventual moment when he was on the receiving end of Kuroo’s fury.
Everyone on the team knew, if you were at the center of an issue, Kuroo would ultimately be there resolving it. Usually you never get too injured, it was just supposed to be a casual intramural team, but the seven members of Consensual Sets had grown into a tightly knit friend group who really wanted to chase down the championship at The University of Tokyo.
That did put some more strain on the level of ability everyone had, and the intensity of which Ito had been aiming to score just another point. But it also reminded everyone, you getting hurt, that this was a casual team. There was nothing to be gained except for a fun time and some good stories to tell.
Kuroo was glad that you hadn’t landed too badly, he’d be much more angry at Ito if you would’ve landed on your head or your bad knee that hadn’t healed up all the way from the sprain you got a few weeks ago. Now, Kuroo tried to focus on keeping his heart rate down so you wouldn’t be able to hear it pounding in his chest.
Completely aware of his own protectiveness for you, Kuroo had been the first one to react to the collision between you and Ito. He’d always been the first one to make sure you were okay. And he wanted to keep it that way.
You decide that you want to get back into the game, leveraging your hand against Kuroo’s shoulder, “We still have to finish the set, we’re ahead by three. Just five more points and we win.” You tried to stand up, only to get dizzy and stumble back. Kuroo caught you again, bringing you back to the ground to sit in between his legs so he could hug you from behind.
“Yeah, no. We’re gonna have to cancel this match for a different day.” He rubs his thumb over your elbow, trying to ease the bruise that was forming there.
You spin your head around to face Kuroo. He can feel the way his Adam’s apple bobs at your face being so close to his.
“Yeah, no, trade Mika in for me. Let’s finish the game.” You pouted a little, and Kuroo could only roll his eyes in response. He never could say no to you indefinitely. He did make you finish the water bottle before he would let the game resume with Mika’s substitution in your place.
And the game does get finished, a sequential five points with Kuroo getting a block kill for the winning point. He had made you sit on the bench, wrapped in his blue Nike windbreaker.
Everyone, except for Daishou and Mika who rode to the gym on her motorcycle, piled into Kuroo’s Toyota Sienna minivan. You sat in the passenger’s seat, as usual, and Ito was relegated to the very back of the car with Alba sprawled out trying to take a nap. Mingzhe enjoys the silence of the middle row all to himself, adjusting the temperature to be freezing. You rest your head on the window, looking outside at the busy streets.
“Who’s getting dropped off first?” Kuroo hands you the collection of semi-final medals, an award for making it to the top four teams. The finals would be in three weeks, and you fully intended to take the championship trophy home.
“I live the furthest away, so you can work your way towards your apartment if you drop me off first.” You say, putting the medals into your duffel bag. You’d pass them out at team practice in a few days.
Alba sits up, and Ito’s relieved to have her legs off of his thighs.
“I have to work early, like super early tomorrow morning. Drop me off first please.” Alba announces, poking her head next to Mingzhe’s seat so that she can have Kuroo hear her better.
You groan, “Alba you live the furthest from me, Tetsurou would have to go back and forth to drop me off second.”
Ito raises his hand, inserting himself into the discussion, “Yeah, but I live closer to Alba, and so does Mingzhe. Kuroo can just go to the East Campus first, and then drop you off last.”
Kuroo grins, “Sounds like we have a winning plan. Alba, Ito, Mingzhe, and then you, Confucius.”
The engine starts, and Kuroo double checks the GPS before merging onto the main street highway.
“I still think it’s illogical to go past your house to drop everyone off, then go past your house again to drop me off.”
“Just stay the night at mine then?” Kuroo says, keeping his eyes on the road fully, not even considering glancing in your direction for worry of getting seen right through by your perceptive instincts.
Alba bites down on her lips, squeezing Ito’s arm in anticipation for what will unfold. Ito tries to push her off, but she just holds on tighter.
Mingzhe is too busy swiping through his Tinder to pay attention, but he’s passively listening in on what you could possibly say in response. Mingzhe needed to find a date for the Chinese cultural exchange event the school would be having, and you had to hear about how all his potential dates were just not up to his par. The exchange event would be a few days before the Intramural Finals.
You think for a moment, it would save Kuroo a fifteen minute drive in the bad traffic. And anything to avoid the traffic of an evening rush would be best, especially since Kuroo was bad at estimating when he’d need to buy gas again. If you stayed at his place, then you would have a ride to your early morning Saturday class without having to ride the bus onto campus. In addition, you’d get free breakfast since you knew Kuroo liked to make big meals in the morning.
“I’ll get a ride into school yeah?”
“Yeah. I have a class at the same time you do tomorrow.” He lied. His earliest class would be two hours after your class.
“Then I guess so. You got an extra toothbrush?”
“Dozens.”
Kuroo’s apartment smelt like him. But in an unfiltered, undiluted way. You inspected some photos that he had around, but you were more interested in the calendar he had posted on his fridge.
He had everyone’s birthdays written down on a notes section of the entire year overview calendar. Your birthday was circled multiple times, and the entire week before and during your birthday had been highlighted bright yellow. He had already started brainstorming ideas about what to get you, and had a few sticky notes on the fridge listing things.
You noted some books you had mentioned, a website address of what you identified as a custom volleyball brand with a drawing of a volleyball Kuroo had done, a bunch of question marks around his note of matching hoodies, and then a heart around the words ‘ring’ and ‘house key’.
Kuroo saw the way you honed into his fridge and tried to pull you away, “You’re spoiling your surprises.”
You folded your arms, “I don’t like surprises.”
“Fine then, you’re spoiling my surprises. I get you things, and my reward for doing so is seeing your reactions.”
You waved a hand, dismissing him. He had told you that the toothbrushes were under his sink.
While you were in the bathroom, brushing teeth and then taking a shower, Kuroo quickly cleaned areas of his apartment that you might meander into. Once he was satisfied with the cleanliness, he tried to remember how to set up his pullout couch.
Changing into your backup sweatpants and the loaned Nike sweatshirt had given you in tandem with his windbreaker, you hugged yourself to embrace the soft fleece that was coating your skin.
Once you saw the pullout couch, with a pile of folded blankets on top of a grey pillow, you started to make the bed. Unfurling the blankets and slightly fluffing the pillow. Before crawling under the blankets, you decided to scroll on your phone for a minute, setting alarms for the morning and responding to some texts from your friends and teammates about today.
“What are you doing?” Kuroo had changed into shorts and an oversized shirt that he tucked slightly into the waistband of his shorts.
“Texting?” You answer.
“No, what are you doing sitting on the couch?” Kuroo was holding a pillow from his bedroom, the one he used to press against the side of his head. (Also the one that had caused his incessant case of bedhead spiky hair.)
You uncross your legs, dangling them over the edge of the couch, “I’m sleeping on the pullout couch?”
Kuroo tosses his pillow onto the couch, crawling under the blankets you had set up. When he pulled the blankets over his shoulder, you were tugged back a little. In response, you just stood up and went around to kneel in front of Kuroo, attempting to make eye contact.
“Where do I sleep?”
He reaches his arm out and pats the space next to him.
“No.”
He sighs, rolling onto his back as he brings his hands behind his head. The obvious flex he does in his biceps from the way his shirt sleeve rolls down does not go unnoticed by you.
“Then I guess you’re sleeping in my bed then, first door on the right. Goodnight.” He immediately covered his head with his two pillows.
You tried to pull one of them away from Kuroo, but his grip was stronger than your slight strain to jerk the pillow out of his grasp.
“You win this time. But next time, I will take my rightful spot on the pullout couch.”
Kuroo mimics you, imitating a high tone, his voice is muffled by his pillow barriers around his face. You stick your tongue out at him even though he can’t see it.
At least his bed was comfortable, and cold. Cotton sheets that definitely had to be a higher thread count than your own, and he left you with only one pillow. He had a few plushies from all the times the pair of you went to a big box store to buy groceries, and instead of buying bananas or a fresh watermelon, he’d spend his money on collecting an array of large stuffed animals.
You had asked him once about why he bought them. He just said because they were cool to have around his place. In reality though, you had gone through his phone once, when he was going through yours for fun trying to find dirt or juicy gossip, and you found out the truth about his assortment of plushies. You went to his notes app and only found a list of things he wanted to buy for his future kids, and a list of maybe fifteen stuffed animals was at the top. He’d already crossed off around ten of them, so he needed only five more to complete the collection he wanted to curate.
It was a cute sentiment that he had, thinking about his future children so soon. Which is why for his upcoming birthday, in a few weeks, the same day as the final for the intramural championship, you had three stuffed animals in a bag in your closet to give to him to celebrate the eventual win.
Kuroo looked through his phone, spending some time watching volleyball videos before going to sleep. He was also biding his time, wanting to check in on you before he fully went to sleep. He just wanted to make sure you were sleeping well before he let himself sleep. His phone beeped, once and then twice.
FROM SUGURU: ATTACHED: 3 IMAGES
FROM SUGURU: got some good photos of you and our dear vice captain, say thanks to me, mika 💖, and mingzhe for actually CAPTURING the way you are so sickly deadly embarrassingly openly precisely adoringly obsessively entirely fervently passionately feverishly restlessly frantically FREAKING HEAD OVER HEELS IN LOVE with her
TO SUGURU: 🖕
TO SUGURU: she looks good in the photos
FROM SUGURU: i feel ill thinking about what your plan with these photos is now 😟
TO SUGURU: exposing your rough drafts for proposing to mika in the gc RIGHT NOW
FROM SUGURU: I’LL MIC DROP THE DRUNK VIDEO OF U WHINING ABOUT NEEDING OUR VICE CAPTAIN TO KISS U AND HOLD YOU- I’LL DO IT DON’T TEST ME MF
TO SUGURU: hand hovering over the collection of mika stalker photos you have that you’ve sent to me
FROM SUGURU: literally this close to posting on my instagram the HUNDREDS of text messages you’ve sent me about her, including the ones from the day Consensual Sets spent at the beach, AND the ones from the week after she broke up with her loser ex, AND the ones from that time you almost kissed her, and then the other time you also almost kissed her like the love sick loser you are
TO SUGURU: i’ll kill you.
FROM SUGURU: i’d kill you first + here’s more photos mika my darling angel, wants me to send to you that i took on my phone. you better be grateful to me for forever you ass. I’m single handedly providing all the pictures for a wedding video slideshow.
FROM SUGURU: ATTACHED: 5 IMAGES
FROM SUGURU: date her asap. mika wants double dates and i’m tired of asking mingzhe to find strangers online to satiate mika’s yearning for the double date extravaganzas she wants. Ok goodnight pookie bear tetsu i hate your guts 🔪🫰🤬💯
Kuroo lets his falling phone hit him in the face as he huffs. He didn’t sleep well that night. The same iteration of her getting slammed into and crashing onto the ground keeps replaying over and over again. Kuroo wakes up in a cold sweat two different times that night.
“Thanks for the ride onto campus,” You click your seatbelt into your seat, as Kuroo taps the steering wheel a few times.
“No problem, I have class too, remember.”
“Ahh, yes, you and your fancy finance and sports marketing double major.” You giggle, holding up your pointer finger into the air in an ‘actually…’ pose that you know Kuroo hated.
He puts his hand behind your seat, hand coming near the back of your head behind the head of the chair, to reverse out of the parking lot.
“Don’t forget my minor in chemistry.”
“So weird. You’re going into sports promotion and business, but you have a science minor?” You shake your head in disbelief.
It never shocked you at just how smart Kuroo could be sometimes. When he did or said things that made you wonder if you were actually learning anything at university. Or when he could treat you to an entertaining story about his lab classes, those were the memories you’d take with you into the future. Stories Kuroo shared about his college experience, which often contrasted with your own experiences.
All through the differences though, the pair of you had become so close.
The way your friendship had increasingly deepened, and at such an unprecedented rate for you, had you feeling like he’d been doing much more for you as of late. You hoped you hadn’t been imposing on him since you stayed over at his apartment. Even though he had been the one to suggest it, you felt guilty at accepting the offer. You felt guilt that you’d been possibly taking advantage of him.
He’d been the most caring, and considerate friend you’d ever had. The closeness of you two began to feel like each time he did something, you’d need to supplement it with your own acts of kindness. Drowning in friendship wasn’t an expected result of joining a intramural volleyball team.
Kuroo shrugs a little, speeding up a little more, “I think it makes me stand out. Plus, who doesn’t love chemistry? It’s just like math with better concepts.”
You play with the hoodie strings of a borrowed top from Kuroo.
He notices your silence, but doesn’t comment on it, just continuing the drive to your building. He let you out near the entrance. The tall Humanities building had walls made of glass windows, letting people look in on lectures and socratic seminars. The concrete details blended with the fragile glass details in a dichotomous way that just worked so well.
When you shut the door to the car, Kuroo rolls down the window, calling out to you before you enter the building. Your roommate stood on the steps, holding your backpack that you’d asked her to bring. She lazily scrolled through her phone, waiting for you to talk to her and then you could go to class with her. She’d never been much of a morning person.
You turn around and rest your arms in the empty space left by the window being rolled down. Tilting your head, you waited for Kuroo to say what he wanted to say.
“You know you’re mentos right?”
The confusion is blatant on your face. You clarify, “I’m mentos? I thought I was me?”
Kuroo smirks, “You’re mentos and I’m coke-a-cola.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Your roommate called out to you, letting you know that class would start soon and she wanted to get a good spot in the lecture hall. You waved to her, signaling you’d only be a few more seconds.
“You’re my chemical reaction.”
You laugh, “You make no sense sometimes I swear, but okay. I’ll be mentos and you can be coke-a-cola.”
Kuroo watched as you bounded up to your friend, sliding your backpack on. Your roommate asked about the top you were wearing by tugging on the waistband of the deep red hoodie. Kuroo knows he’s being talked about, because you jut a thumb in his direction and your roommate turns around to look at his car and she nods with understanding.
Kuroo doesn’t see your roommate wiggle her eyebrows, or how she makes a kissing face at you teasingly. He’s too busy driving to the library to find a spot to nap while he waits two hours for his own class to start.
The final two games would be critical. On November 17th, that Saturday, the gym for intramural volleyball would declare the winner. Out of 32 teams, and after five months of training, games, and unique coaching opportunities, there could only be one winner. Consensual Sets would go against EZ Pass, and Ice Ice Blockers would oppose Monster Spikes. You had found it funny how the final four all had different volleyball skills as their team name, setting, spiking, passing, and blocking.
But before the Intramural Finals, Mingzhe still needed to attend the Chinese cultural exchange event on Wednesday.
On that Monday, Mingzhe was complaining to you during team practice.
“Listen, I still haven’t found someone to be my plus one.” Mingzhe paced a little in front of you, as you wiped off a volleyball. You wanted the ball to be cleaned properly before the team would start playing with it.
“Just ask Daishou or Ito, it’s your pick. Either way, you’d have a great time.” You pull out your elbow grease to get a particularly nasty scuff out of the ball.
“It needs to be a woman. It’s a date type of event.” Mingzhe suddenly turned on his heel, facing you straight on. You brought your head to the side, eyeing Mingzhe’s rapid shift in mood. “You. You should be my plus one.”
You gape, loosening your hold on the ball that Mingzhe just ends up taking from you.
“It’s perfect! You’re interesting, we have a good friendship, fake dating for this event would be easy-peasy.” Mingzhe smiles, looking entirely too self-satisfied.
“Fake-dating?” Sourly, you try to take the ball away from Mingzhe, who just brings it closer to his chest.
Kuroo comes around to the pair of you, putting a hand on Mingzhe’s shoulder. “What’s happening? We need this ball to do the drills, it should be good by now yeah?”
Mingzhe hands the ball to Kuroo, “I was just finalizing plans for our date on Wednesday.”
Kuroo almost drops the volleyball that was placed into his hands. But he grasps onto it, trying to appear composed and chill. You tug on your knee pads, making sure they’re secure. In doing so, your shorts ride up a little and more of your thigh is exposed. Kuroo again almost drops the ball at how quickly his eyes flit to the exhibited skin of your legs.
“Date?” Kuroo wonders if the word sounds as dumb as he felt saying it.
You raised your shoulders, “Yeah.”
Mingzhe claps his hands, “Our fourth date, remember?”
Mingzhe was already trying to get into the acting persona of a fake relationship and you were not amused, shoving his shoulder roughly as you walked over to Alba. Kuroo had interpreted the shove as playful, as romantic, as being adjacent to love.
Kuroo looked between Mingzhe and you. Then he looked at Daishou desperately asking for help with his glance but Daishou was too busy helping Mika with her knee pads again. Kuroo then went back to looking at the space you had occupied.
His heart lurched, and just like a bad sickness, he couldn’t help but continue his downward spiral.
“When did you guys start dating?” He folds his arms in front of him, shuffling his feet a little.
“A few weeks ago. Just trying it out, you know.” Mingzhe said, “She’ll be going with me to the exchange event, it’ll be fun to see her dress up formally for once.”
Mingzhe, unaware of Kuroo’s radiating tension, goes over to where Ito had called him.
Kuroo, dumbstruck and frustrated, called out a change of plans, “We’re doing a three versus three.”
You stood on the other side of the net, blocking spikes from Daishou. Each time Kuroo served, he went straight for Mingzhe’s throat- putting more force than he typically did. Alba was drenched in sweat by the end of the single match. Ito had his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.
“Are we done yet Tetsu?” Ito asked, and Alba made her way under the net, patting Ito on the back.
Mingzhe had fallen to the ground and was laying on his back, sweat dripping from his black hair to the gym floor. You had half a mind to join Mingzhe. But Kuroo still looked fired up.
“Yes, we’re done for today, Ito. Good practice everyone!” You called out, and Mika gladly started packing up the shared bag she had with Daishou. Kuroo looked at you with pursed lips.
Kuroo and you stayed behind to take down the volleyball net, and as he began folding the white ropes, you began to speak, “Our three versus three is supposed to have more balance than that. You weighed the sides wrong. Alba never has to spike that much, she needed to practice her receives today. You just kept serving straight to Mingzhe, not to mention you had Suguru aim solely for Mingzhe too. He’s going to be exhausted tonight.”
“Worried about your boyfriend? He’s supposed to be essentially a professional anyway. Mingzhe is fine.” Kuroo kept folding the net, however, you could see his knuckles were white and each time he folded the stringy-material he left a mark on his hand from the unneeded strain he was putting
“Mingzhe is a friend. We aren’t dating, Testsurou.” You take down the side rods, detaching the sections so you could carry them easier.
“Oh really? Four dates in a row sounds pretty serious.” He gnaws at the words he sends your way. “Wouldn’t be surprised if you two were going to start acting like Suguru and Mika soon.”
You put the rods away, not saying anything to Kuroo’s comment.
He pushes further, “How long have you liked him?”
“It isn’t like that.” You face Kuroo, hands on your hips, “Mingzhe was joking about it being our fourth date. Calm down. I don’t know why you’re so pressed over this.” You say.
“You two don’t go well together.” Kuroo claims, “He’s not right for you. He’s going back home at the end of the year anyway.”
You take the folded net from Kuroo, but he tugs it away from you, pulling you closer to him.
You’re both gripping the net, standing barely a foot apart. Kuroo is looking at you, a twitch in the vein of his neck tells you he’s upset without him having to say anything.
“It’s not even a date, Tetsurou. I’m his plus one. He just needed a girl to go with him.” You explain, trying to get the net away from Kuroo, but his hold is stronger than yours.
“It isn’t a date?”
“Not in my book. It’s not a romantic date. We’re going as friends. Why, just why does it matter so much to you?”
He lets go of the net, and grabs a hold of your arms instead. He opens his mouth a few times, only to close his mouth soon after. Fully taking the net away from you, Kuroo puts it into the storage room.
You sigh with exasperation, going to grab your skateboard.
“Let me drive you, it’s dark out.” Kuroo swings his keys on his pointer finger.
You turn around, tilting your head down slightly to glare at him, “Are you going to throw another fit?”
“Geez, someone’s mad.”
Your jaw drops, then you shake your head with a snicker dying out on your lips.
“You can be so hot and cold sometimes Tetsurou. Did you know that?”
Kuroo holds the gym door open for you to exit. He locks it up once he steps out as well.
“That’s why I’m the coke-a-cola, and you’re the mentos.”
“I really need you to explain your analogy to me.”
The Chinese Cultural Exchange Event at the ballroom of The University of Tokyo really was a stunning celebration. Lanterns were hanging from the second floor open balconies, and the marble pillars were covered in a mixture of bamboo and woven leaves to showcase the Horticulture Department’s skills of arranging foliage. There were tables filled with classic Chinese dishes, along with unique Chinese-Japanese dishes from the diaspora history of China to Japan.
You were surprised to see just how many exchange students the university had from China, it seemed like there had to have been at least a hundred or more Chinese exchange students, including Mingzhe.
Mingzhe has asked that you wear red and black to match with him. You thought it was funny that so many men in your life asked you to wear the red/black combination so frequently. Your dress was formal of course, but you had opted for a loose silky maroon dress that had black lace detailing.
The long sleeves of the dress were a sheer black, so that air could filter to your arms as well. Even though you never opted for a sweetheart neckline most of the time, the lady at the store had said you’d look great with this specific dress. So you had bought it and called it a day.
Mingzhe, as you were coming to realize, must have been rich because there was no way his tailored suit would’ve cost any less than one million yen. Mingzhe clearly had only worn red leather shoes to match slightly with you, because otherwise he was in an all black outfit.
You put on a forceful smile as Mingzhe puts his hand on the small of your back and introduces you in Mandarin to one of his friends. Once the conversation died down, you leaned over to Mingzhe with gritted teeth, “I’m actually going to murder you. You didn’t tell me that the Chinese exchange student association at our school was filled with rich kids.”
An older lady, presumably an exchange coordinator, stops to compliment your dress, in Mandarin. You fumble over the words of thanks that Mingzhe had taught you a few minutes ago. When Mingzhe laughs into his cup of water, you elbow him in the side discreetly.
“Just what are you telling people about me?” You demand. Mingzhe hands you a glass of water from the plate a dressed up server was walking around with.
“Girlfriend, three months.”
Your eyes widen, and Mingzhe chuckles.
“Close friend who I play volleyball with, who graciously accepted my invitation to join me tonight.”
Moving your head up and down appreciatively, you sip on your water, “That’s more like it.”
Scanning around, you tried to see if you knew anyone. Which was a long shot, but-
“Kenma? Is that you?”
The dip dyed blonde makes eye contact with you and raises a hand. Kenma makes his way over to you, eyeing the way Mingzhe had his arm around your waist with suspicion.
“It’s nice to see a familiar face.” Kenma comments, shaking hands with you and Mingzhe.
“What are you doing here?”
Kenma smiles, pointing to an enamel pin on his suit jacket, “Got a sponsorship from a Chinese company. Said Chinese company has a college aged daughter, and thus, here I am as a plus one as a favor to my sponsor.”
You nod, trying to make an estimation for just how much net worth Kenma had. Mingzhe started talking to Kenma about what games he’d seen Kenma play, because apparently Kenma’s streams were popular on a Chinese video server called billibilli. You were glad that your parents limited your screen time as a child, otherwise you’d be just as chaotically involved in the conversation Kenma and Mingzhe were having about a new game that was releasing soon.
The rest of the night was spent listening to more of Mingzhe’s Mandarin speaking skills, as you swished around in your dress waiting for the time to go.
Mingzhe threw back a shot, well, a quick drink from a flask that a student had snuck in, “Let’s dance!”
You tried to pull back, but Mingzhe grabbed you by the hands and pulled you into his chest. A smile that you’d never seen on his face appeared, and instead of harmonious traditional Chinese pop music, someone hijacked the music- rap music you were sure was not school approved started blasting.
The administration looked furious, but Mingzhe just kept giving you that face splitting smile. He mouthed his words again, and the only response you could give was moving his hands from your back to your waist.
The club style dancing eventually devolved into a mosh pit that was quickly disassembled by the administration due to the cutting of music. The students groaned, but the administration said that the event was over and that everyone needed to get back to their housing.
Mingzhe dropped you off at your dorm, running a hand through his sweaty black hair.
“Had fun?” He asked.
“Yes. It was very fun.”
Instead of just waving, Mingzhe opened his arms up, and you gave into the offering of a hug.
His hugs were different from Kuroo’s hugs. For one, Mingzhe was shorter than Kuroo, so you could feel more of his face than just solely his chest or neck. For another, Mingzhe didn’t smell like Kuroo. Mingzhe was mintier, like spearmint and peppermint- it burned your nose a tinge. Mingzhe was also lankier, arms not quite packing as much heft to them like Kuroo’s did.
“Don’t look now, but I think someone is spying on us.” He whispered into your ear, and you grabbed onto his shoulders tighter. The bounce of his body as he laughed shook you, and you slapped his shoulder. “You really shouldn’t trust me when I say things like that.”
“If people knew even a fraction of what I know about you, you’d be immediately canceled.”
“Good thing no one knows me like you.” Mingzhe swiped at your cheek with two knuckles, a gentle caress. “You know I have feelings for you right?”
You nod affirmatively.
“But I’m also guessing, and tell me if I’m wrong, but there’s a different black haired boy on our volleyball team that holds the key to your heart?” Mingzhe murmured. You could practically hear the deep ache in his soul.
You nod again.
“Well, I can’t win them all. Here’s to being good friends.” Mingzhe grabbed your hand and shook it a few times, “When we win on Saturday, make sure to at least give me a little peck on the cheek.” He brazenly states.
“No promises.”
Mingzhe throws his head back, dimples coming out to show off.
“Thanks for a great night Mingzhe, I’ll see you on Saturday.” You pat him on the cheek, separating the pair of you. Your heels were killing you, and all you really wanted to wear was the fleece hoodie Kuroo gave you that you hadn’t returned for weeks now.
He salutes, walking backwards for a moment. Then he calls out with mirth laced into his words, “I always get cock blocked by the middle blockers I swear to the gods.”
And you thought, Mingzhe was absolutely correct.
TO TETSUROU: ATTACHED: 3 IMAGES
TO TETSUROU: she seemed to have fun tonight at the little event thing
Kenma had paused his late night stream, sending photos of you and Mingzhe dancing- leaving absolutely no space for Kuroo’s mental sanity. Kenma knew that sending the photos could possibly instigate something that he didn’t want unfolding.
FROM TETSUROU: i don’t care.
TO TETSUROU: hmm yeah sure
FROM TETSUROU: i dont care- i just want her to be happy, genuinely happy. like so happy she literally feels sore in the mouth from smiling so much
TO TETSUROU: there it is
TO TETSUROU: look, here’s the situation. she isn’t into mr. libero chinese model guy- she likes you.
FROM TETSUROU: i wish
Kenma felt his eye twitch at Kuroo’s message. How long did Kuroo have to keep the back and forth before Kenma just wrote out a confession for his friend and mailed it to you?
TO TETSUROU: she likes you. the only logical conclusion is that you both are giant pussies who are so afraid to break the friendship between yall that you’ll end up missing each other in the process. like those stupid freaking robots on mars, the ones that battery died before they could share data.
TO TETSUROU: regardless, she’s hot, you’re hot, get together and have a bunch of weirdo genius kids or whatever it is you want the point is that you need to say something before its too late
TO TETSUROU: stop ignoring my messages.
TO TETSUROU: tell her on saturday. after you win the finals and get those gaudy trophies- just like pull a tetsurou move and pull her into you and kiss her so good she forgets her name.
FROM TETSUROU: i always knew you were a freak on the down low
TO TETSUROU: i always knew you were a freak out in the open but a sweetheart teddy bear on the down low. we could go for hours, but the main thing here is: tell her, kiss her, live happily ever after
FROM TETSUROU: i feel sick
TO TETSUROU: you care too much. and you know what? SHE LOVES THAT ABOUT YOU- im tired of telling u what to do. Tell her, dont tell her, grow old without ever experiencing the touch of your woman, do what you want. but honestly, if i have to witness one more longing gaze ill vomit so for my sake, your best friend, tell her and be happy.
Kuroo powered off his phone.
Then he immediately turned it back on to look at the photos Kenma had sent him. He kicked off his blankets with his stewing offended reaction to the photos. Plugging his phone in, Kuroo got a glass of water from his kitchen.
The moon wasn’t out, or at least it wasn’t visible. Storm clouds thundered, lighting struck the ground in bolts of blue and grey. At least the weather understood him. He could always trust the universe to send him a message with what the weather was. Sunny days would be happy, rainy days would be brilliant, and stormy nights would reflect the inner turmoil of his spirit.
He scratched an itch right above his knee, leaving white marks from how his nails drug against his skin. The clock told him that it was Thursday at two in the morning. He counted on his fingers. The end of the finals game would be around eight in the evening on Saturday.
He had sixty-six hours to decide if he would give his heart away. Sixty-six hours to conjure up a magic spell to make him anyone besides himself as he uttered the words, “I love you.”
Sixty-four hours goes by much quicker than Kuroo would expect.
“Okay, listen up everyone.” Consensual Sets was huddled up, you were giving your final speech of this year. Your team had won against EZ Pass, and now the final match would be against Monster Spikes.
You were aware of how tired everyone was. In the third set against EZ Pass, Alba twisted her ankle, leaving the team to substitute her out for Mika. Resulting in an extremely close third set, but in the end, you were able to do a block kill and Daishou was able to get a good spike in to secure the win in Consensual Sets favor.
Alba sat on the bench, with a bag of ice on her ankle. Although she’d never say it, she was angry. Her face was entirely blank, devoid of any emotion. No comments or out of the blue thoughts rambled out of her- and you knew that Alba was fermenting in her own self pity.
Ito was sitting next to Alba, as the rest of the team stood around with arms around shoulders. You could feel the sweat from everyone’s bodies in the team circle.
“Monster Spikes as a whole lacks the ability to connect. Their passes are sloppy compared to ours. Ito, your setting skills outweigh that other setter. Kuroo, your blocks are always on point. Alba, Daishou, Mika, you're some of the best spikers I’ve seen. Not to mention Mingzhe being our solid foundation as libero, nothing gets past you.” Your speech wasn’t organized, it wasn’t even meant to be motivational.
But you continued, “These past six months, I wouldn’t trade them for anything. So many team practices, so many late night drives, so many junk food purchases.” You look down to the gym floor, “I was so worried when I started college that I wouldn’t find my people. But look at me now, I have the best friends in the world and we’re playing in a championship. We don’t need to be a school sponsored team, just being on a intramural team is enough to make me glad.”
You don't see the way that Alba wipes at her eyes. You miss the way that Mingzhe and Ito share a big smile at each other. Mika rubs your back, urging you to continue. Daishou and Kuroo kick each other in the shins, an amicable gesture between rivals turned competitive friends.
“So, you know what, let’s go out and win this. Connect every receive, every toss, every spike. We are the blood that flows through, let’s make it easy for each other to show off our skills.” You stick your hand into the center of the team. Everyone stacks their hand on top of yours.
Kuroo had told you that you should be the one to give the final speech, you should be the one to speak before the final game with this team. His selfish desire to hear you tie up the loose ends of a season of volleyball, knowing how he’d fumble the speech due to his inability to accept that this team would never be the same after their last game.
But also, Kuroo knew that just hearing you talk would soothe his nerves before this game. Hearing you express your thoughts and emotions about your team, the team he shared with you, would do wonders for his confidence in the game.
After listening to so many of Kuroo’s pre-game speeches, you had an idea of what would be good to say. In the end though, this speech was uniquely yours. A testament to the power of connection.
Kuroo locks eyes with you. You nudge your head in the direction of everyone’s hands, he shakes his head, mouthing that this call was all yours. You mouth a thank-you to Kuroo.
Looking around at your friends, you give the last cheer of the year, “3, 2, 1, let’s play!”
Kuroo wins the coin toss, and Mika serves first.
She starts with a jump float that undeniably starts the team off on the best footing possible. A service ace right off the bat, and Daishou can’t help but pump his fists and give a yell of excitement. He loved to see his fiancé play a game that had become the center of his universe, more accurately though the center of Daishou’s universe was a mixture of volleyball and Mika.
The game picks up with an indomitable force, the speed and increasing frequency of you having to jump up to block or to give a feint hit is more than you’re used to. Kuroo’s breathing is heavier, and between points scored, he keeps his shoulders low. Ito keeps shaking out his hands, then rolling his dominant shoulder. The only one who still looks moderately normal is Mingzhe, who’s sporting a dimple on only one side of his face.
After set one, Consensual Sets is ahead 1-0.
Four more to go.
1-1.
2-1.
2-2.
Alba is sitting on the edge of the bench, eyebrows furrowed, her hands grip the plastic seat. Each time Daishou spikes, Alba purses her lips.
During a time out, you sit next to Alba.
“Thank you.” It’s a quiet moment shared between you and Alba, everyone else getting some water for a moment. You express your gratitude plainly, because that’s all that's needed to get the sentiment across. You appreciated her, and she knew it too.
Alba’s bottom lip quivers, “I just wanted to play one more game with everyone. With Mingzhe behind me, with Ito sending me those smooth tosses, with you and Kuroo as my wall of defense. With Daishou shouting at me telling me to fix my form. With Mika telling me to ignore Daishou. One more game with everyone.”
You pat her knee.
“Alba, we couldn’t have gotten here without you.” Smiling, you hold her hand, “Remember, this is all for fun. And as long as you’re having fun- then we’re winning. You’re on the court just as much as I’m on the court, even if it might not seem like it.”
She wipes her face with the back of her hand, “You suck- making me cry like this. I'm such a baby, screw you.”
Ito laughs once he hears Alba’s comment, full body laughing. It's a new sound for everyone on the team, to hear the joyous childlike giggles erupting from the most stone-faced member of Consensual Sets. Following suit, everyone else joins in, laughing. Mingzhe even snorts.
The opposing team raises their eyebrows at you all, but in the end, it's just a game of volleyball. It's a game being played by a group of friends who like spending time together. You weren’t sure that friends was the right defining terminology anymore. There had to be a word for what everyone shared, because it was deeper, more meaningful, richer than just being ‘friends’.
Kuroo watches as Alba punches you in the arm, and the grin you give in response stuns him. You stand up from the bench to escape Alba’s gentle wrath. You bump into Kuroo, turning around and giving him that smile that made him feel like himself.
He just can’t help the way he grabs your face and slots his lips to yours.
To his surprise, you wrap a hand around his neck and pull him in closer. He rubs his thumbs on your cheekbones, letting his cold nose bump into yours. You tilt your head so you can breathe through your nose a little better. He moves from your lips to the side of your mouth, rapidly placing gentle pecks there before doing the same all over your face.
Wrinkling your nose, you make a noise of complaint at being gross and sweaty.
When you pull away, Kuroo’s face follows yours, trailing closely. He reminds you of a cat trying to nudge their way under your hand. He connects to your lips again, humming against the plush of your skin. Thinking back to his failed confession at the train station, he nips at your lips before kissing them lightly. It’s hard to kiss when he’s smiling this much.
“As much as I love a free show, we have a game to win.” Mingzhe tugs on the back collar of Kuroo’s shirt, ripping him from you. Kuroo wriggles out of Mingzhe’s hold, trying to attach himself to you again, but gets shaken out of his one track mind, his desire to just keep kissing you, when the referee blows his whistle.
Serve. Receive. Set. Spike. Block.
Block. Receive. Set. Spike.
Receive. Set. Spike.
Block. Spike.
Spike.
3-2.
“LET’S GO!” Ito screams, whipping his head around to look at Alba. She waves a little from her spot on the bench. Ito thinks to himself, if Kuroo can confess, then surely he can too.
Although, Ito’s kiss is much less tame than Kuroo’s. Ito’s kneeling on the bench, arms wrapped around Alba’s torso as she’s practically hanging off of the bench, only supported by Ito’s hold.
Mingzhe throws his hands up in the air when Daishou and Mika kiss as well.
“Can nobody just appreciate the win? What's with all the kissing?” Mingzhe speaks into a void, rubbing his forehead with exasperation.
“This is appreciating the win.” Kuroo wraps an arm around your waist, pinching your side. The pinch makes your body move closer into him.
“Oh yeah, suddenly everyone on our team is in love and I’m here, just the best libero in a loveless existence. At least I’ll always have volleyball.” Mingzhe jokingly states, hugging the volleyball to his chest.
Alba holds up a marker, “I can draw a kissable face on the ball if you want Mingzhe?”
Ito laughs loudly again, resting his chin on Alba’s shoulder.
Mika, in her wisdom, tells everyone to line up for a group photo before awards are handed out.
Three sequential clicks of Mika’s phone, and one of your opponents double checked that all the shots they took were good. Handing the phone off, the tall girl who had kindly taken the photos of your team shook your hand.
“You’re one of the best blockers I’ve seen on an intramural team, how’d you get so good?” She asked.
You shrugged, but Kuroo spoke up, “I taught her everything that she knows. But also, my girlfriend is a quick learner too, an easy study if you will.”
The girl nods, bowing curtly before going over to her own team.
You grab the front of Kuroo’s shirt, pulling his face down to yours.
“My boyfriend really is a handful. What should I do about that?”
Kuroo smirks, grabbing a hold of the front of your shirt as well.
“Definitely kiss him. That’s the best solution.” He nods his head.
“One question first,” You comment, smoothing out his shirt where you had twisted the fabric, “Explain the mentos and coke thing.”
Kuroo slips a hand under your shirt, resting on your bare hip, “You put mentos in a bottle of coke then, bam. Explosion. One of the coolest chemical reactions I know of.”
“Wanna try that out?”
“Yes, please.”
TO SUGURU, ITO, MINGZHE, ALBA, MIKA, AND TETSUROU: ATTACHED: 3 IMAGES
TO SUGURU, ITO, MINGZHE, ALBA, MIKA, AND TETSUROU: my epic teammates, my best friends, my family.
FROM SUGURU: i’m going to be sick why are you so sentimental
FROM ITO: alba and i are on our way don't start without us!
FROM MINGZHE: ur lucky i got a flight in time for this
FROM ALBA: i bought you a photobook for all our pictures! and i got tetsu some mentos like he asked
FROM MIKA: sugu and i will be there soon, needed to get gas for my bike
FROM SUGURU: what's the point of having an engagement party if we can't even play volleyball
FROM TETSUROU: suguru i’ll make you chopped liver. i don't know who told you we wouldn't have a volleyball at the party ??
TO SUGURU, ITO, MINGZHE, ALBA, MIKA, AND TETSUROU: make sure to add songs to my playlist for tonight! thanks for getting mentos alba! Make sure to sign your names into the guestbook when you get here
FROM TETSUROU: me too?
TO SUGURU, ITO, MINGZHE, ALBA, MIKA, AND TETSUROU: tetsurou what am i going to do with you for the rest of our lives 🥲
TO SUGURU, ITO, MINGZHE, ALBA, MIKA, AND TETSUROU: ATTACHED: 3 IMAGES
TO SUGURU, ITO, MINGZHE, ALBA, MIKA, AND TETSUROU: consensual sets reunion + their engaged captain and vice captain (look at how cute my ring is 😭 thank you tetsurou 💖) (also peep the coke and mentos explosion behind us in that last photo!!!!!!)
FROM TETSUROU: wedding in 5 months be back soon everyone! it was nice seeing everyone again. love you all ! 🙏🏐💍
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knmaskitten · 6 months ago
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Love me back ⊹ ♡
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Pairing: Kageyama Tobio/ afab!reader.
Summary: inspired by love me back by fromis_9. You moved to your new house thanks to college, and one day, as you were preparing to deliver a gift to your neighbour, you encountered said person, Kageyama Tobio. After that, you keep longing to bump into him and slowly get him to correspond to your feelings. But when that does not happen, you plan a scheme with your best friend as the ultimate test to see if Tobio likes you or not.
warnings/tags: afab!fem reader. No use of y/n. Neighbours to lovers. Kageyama really is bad at expressing love. Reader is head over heels. A little bit of physical descriptions but nothing specific like hair color, length, etc. You use Oikawa Tooru to make Kageyama jealous. Oikawa is your best friend.
notes: I wanted to write this since so long ago, Kageyama is one of my favorite boys. As always, this was not proof read so I apologize for any bad grammar. Not necessary but english is my second language so have that in mind while reading. As always my AO3 is here (I post there first).
wc: 2,500
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It was so utterly frustrating having to look at him all day long, knowing how your heart wanted to escape your ribcage every time you exchanged glances with his dark ocean eyes. You longed to see him every day, whether the sun was at its highest or lowest. You wanted to see him. For him to notice you and to exchange more than just “Hi” or “How are you?”. You’re sure you would have a stroke if he ever said something related to your outfits, which you carefully picked whenever you were going to “accidentally” bump into him.
Being neighbours with Kageyama was going to be the death of you. Your anxiety went through the roof when you thought about him, which was no bueno. Your cortisol levels were so high that your therapist advised you to finally blurt out a confession to him so you could be let out of this misery. But no, you were not that kind of girl anymore. All your life, you were the one who always had to confess to everybody, and you hated not being the one being confessed to. This had a huge impact on your self-esteem and made you doubt if you were loveable enough to be even considered a lover.
You were a nice lover, you thought. It isn’t like you haven’t dated anyone before this crush. Your first boyfriend, Marco, was a nice guy™ and you two had a very nice relationship. The thing is, your first relationship was just nice—not passionate, not vehement, not ardent, not fervent—nothing. Just nice. And it was rare to feel what you felt towards Kageyama; you were sure it wasn’t just infatuation; you could already feel what it really was and what it really meant. 
You were Kageyama’s right-side neighbour. You moved by yourself, next to where he lived, a few years ago because of college. You met him on your second day in your new home. He was returning from practise; he looked sweaty and tired. He had a jacket that said “Japan” on it, a volleyball ball on his right hand, and his sports bag on his shoulder. His hair was dark and messy, giving him a certain kind of freshness. You were casually walking towards his house, a friendly gift on your hands, hoping to form good bonds with your neighbours.
He observed you carefully and analyzed you, as if he were searching for something else behind your clear intentions. He did not smile at you, but he did stop walking to face you fully, silently questioning you. So you nervously replied:
“I’m…I’m your new neighbour!” You tried not to yell, but your words came out a lot louder than you intended to. This made you feel wobbly, with the tray in your hands threatening to fall to the ground. “I made some strawberry shortcake for you.” You pointed with your head towards the tray; it was a cute, soft pink platter with a ribbon design. It was trembling slightly thanks to your jitters.
“Thank you.” He bowed towards you, his hair moving with its movements. You paid attention to how his muscles flexed and then relaxed, creating wrinkles in his jacket and sports shorts. “I’m sorry, I don’t have anything for you.”
“That’s not necessary; this was just a small gesture. You dont have to give me anything, really.” You blurted your verbiage out without thinking. What was going on? You usually weren’t this awkward with people. You had confidence, which you slowly but surely cultivated through the years, and it was really hard for your ego to accept that a mere boy could have this impact on you.
He was a handsome boy with knowing eyes; his eyes were hungry to analyze the world around him, and the profound, dark blue ocean that his eyes were had you wanting to explore every nook and cranny in them. He was taller than you—almost 20 centimeters taller, giving him a certain kind of power over you. He had a toned and muscular figure, which coincided with the fact that he was a volleyball player, which you admired. You guessed he played in the Japanese volleyball league, making him a professional at what he did. And that was so interesting.
It just occurred to you that he perfectly could have rejected your dessert, given the fact that he needs to eat well and your shortcake was considered junk food. This fact struck your heart like lightning, making you feel butterflies in your stomach. He looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to pass him the tray. It seems you were in awe for too long because he gave you a frown.
“Right, sorry, here you go.” 
"Later.” He said while walking towards his house, leaving you perplexed.
That was the first time you two had any interaction. You took every opportunity you had to talk to him: sometimes you needed sugar, other times you needed a kitchen supply he had, and one time you needed help grabbing something from the top of your kitchen cabinets that you couldn’t reach. Other times you nonchalantly waited outside your home, seemingly sweeping your entrance, while you knew he would return from practise around this hour.
One particular time, he looked strangely dazed and out of tune, which you knew (by observing him so much) was weird. You had your broom on your hand, and the leaves in the cement were in a little pile right to your feet. You kept looking at him without a care in the world, scrutinizing him. This did not go unnoticed by him.
“Do I have something in my face?” He straightforwardly said, making eye contact with you. His back was ever so slightly arched and his hair was sticking to his forehead. His blue eyes were lit up with annoyance.
“Kageyama-kun, are you alright? You look out of it.” Worry seeped out of your words, a tender breeze brushing your hair.
“N—no! I mean, yes! I’m fine” He replied a little bit flustered, like he didn’t expect you to read him so well.
You left your broom on the side of your fence and you started walking towards him until you faced him. Face to face, he had to arch his back a little bit more to look at your eyes, which were full of a weird determination.
“Kageyama-kun I know I’m not your friend, but I can help you if you desire; I’m right next to you, and I swear I will do my best.” You stated that you were dead set on helping him out; even if he rejected your offer, you wanted to let him know you were worried about him. The sun shone on the right side of his face, highlighting his skin in a dance of light and shadows. This made time slow down around you, leaving just the two of you in this odd bubble you created.
“I…” He pouted, averting his gaze from yours as he frowned. “I just had a bad practise, that’s all.” He reluctantly said it in a mumble.
With all the will and courage you could possibly muster up, you walked even closer to him and gave him a big, tight hug, mumbling in a low and serene tone, “You’re still an amazing player.”
He trembled and then squished out of your hug, flustered. “I know!” he yelled, pointing to you with his index finger. ”I won’t lose!”
Kageyama was never socially good, and he was even less good with friends. So he did what he knew best: yell and challenge. You stood still, thinking you fucked up, your feelings bubbling in the pit of your stomach as anxiety started to gain a strong presence in you.
“S—sorry.” You muttered before walking rapidly towards your home, obviously not before taking your broom with you. You stopped on your heels, turned towards him and gave him a bow “Excuse me!” You yelled, leaving him there.
And after that, you both exchanged conversations that tacitly had something behind them. You sometimes thought Kageyama hated you and other times that he merely had to stand your presence, but once you thought he saw you as something else. You wanted him to look at you the way you looked at him, to long for your presence like you did his, to analyze your figure and eyes like you did his. To invite you on a damn date! If he didn’t hurry, you were going to finally accept the advances of a guy at your college.
In the battle of egos, you were not going to lose; you had a strong resolve, and that was: Kageyama had to confess to you. And it is not like you didn’t do anything to achieve this; you kept giving him gifts and kept advising him when he looked troubled. You secretly loved when he gave you attention, even if it was just crumbs. You had the opportunity to know a little bit more about him in every exchange you guys had, craving every chance you had of getting his attention. The feeling of his eyes on you, looking at only you with a certain kind of intent.
This went on for about six months—six long months of crumbs. And you were so not having it that you managed to get Kageyama’s phone number and his socials (you always waited for him to text or call you, but he never did, so you reluctantly had to be the one to initiate the conversation), but even then, you were not certain as to what he felt for you. Did he love you as well? Did he hate you? You were so nervous, uncertainty filling your body to the brim.
So, you decided to do a scheme with your best friend, Oikawa Tooru. This was evil in many ways, as you knew the rivalry Tobio had with your best friend. You met Tooru on a trip to your aunt’s house in Miyagi, and after a weirdly funny encounter, you two hit it off as best friends. You rarely met, but this was no excuse for how close you two grew together. It really was a coincidence that the “stupid setter from Karasuno” that Oikawa often talked about turned out to be Kageyama, which was stupidly funny.
You definitely were not the type to do these type of schemes, but you were desperate. You needed at least a glance that said I love you—a lovingly full of attention glance. And this fact also ashamed you; a guy had you craving attention; he had you in the palm of his hand, and he was so oblivious to it. This simply made you furious; you were not one to give into a guy this easily, and it made you angry that he didn’t show any signs.
So, you decided to carry out your plan. You called Oikawa and discussed with him:
“Tooru-chan, accept, please.” You pleaded.
“Using me! Huh! And to make Tobio-chan jealous! Him, of all people!” He said, frustrated and a little bit offended. “Why him, dear? Why him?”
“Please, Tooru, he means a lot to me.”
“But he is an idiot if you have to go to these lengths to get his attention.” He scolded you.
“But, Tooru, I love him!” You cried over the phone.
There was a brief silence on the other line; you could only hear the faint sound of static.
“You are lucky I’m in Japan right now.” He said, resigning to your plan.
“I love you, Tooru! You’re amazing!” 
Happily, you hung up the phone. The plan was as follows: he was going to pick you up for a “date” at the time Tobio arrived home from practise, and then you two were actually going to go out because Oikawa asked to at least have some real time with his best friend. So you texted him with the date and time he had to be at your front door. You insisted on him looking extra handsome that day and reacted with, “I’m always extra handsome! >:c” .
When the day came, you decided to pamper yourself. You wore makeup today; you wore a light pink eyeshadow that highlighted your eyes, applying a little bit of glitter at the center of your lid. You carefully placed your blush to make you look naturally flushed. You did your winged liner and used mascara. You successfully enhanced your natural beauty. You left your hair down, as it was what you were most comfortable with. You wanted to look cute, so you picked a white, flowy dress that made you shine. You paired it with black Mary Jane shoes and white socks, as well as a pearly necklace with a purple gem. 
At six thirty, your door bell rang and a text bubble appeared on the screen of your phone: “Open the door, dummy.” . And so you hurried up. You put your phone in your black purse and grabbed a black jacket to pair your dress with. You ran downstairs towards the door and opened it very happily.
“Tooru!” you exclaimed, excited. As you hugged your friend tightly, you peeked over his shoulder and saw Kageyama’s figure approaching. You whispered, "Ok, Tooru, let’s do it. Kageyama’s coming”
You knew you were going to get a reaction from him, but not this one. He stopped, looking between you and Oikawa; he got the clue instantly as he saw you both well dressed. You could swear you saw fire coming out of him.
“Oikawa.” He said it in a low tone, angrily.
“Tobio-chan!” He cheerfully replied.
“What are you doing with her? How do you know her?” He blurted out, arching his brow, walking closer to you.
“Going on a date. Not that its any of your business.” Oikawa gave him an annoyed smile.
“No, you’re not.” You swear you and Oikawa are still in your places, surprised by this. Your heart started to race. 
“You’re not fair!” You yelled at him, feeling overwhelmed. “You ignore me, then forbid me from going on a date?”
“I…its just…I." He started.
“You what?”
He then walked towards you fully, and taking you by the shoulders, he kissed you passionately. His hands were not moving, and you were so stunned that it took you a second to correspond with him. Oikawa stood still, a little awkward. He decided to slowly walk towards your door and leave you two to it. He was still going to have his time with you nonetheless.
“Oikawa is not the right guy for you. I am. I think I love you. I want you.”
You didn’t say anything, as those words were the one thing you wanted to hear the most, for the longest of times. And you had it now, and it felt amazingly odd; it was a new feeling that meant your love was reciprocated. 
“Oikawa is my best friend. I love you, idiot.”
And then you hugged him, and this time he hugged you back.
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Thank you for reading <3
masterlist and more.
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boughkeeping · 4 months ago
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SOUR until SUGAR ☆
Suna rintarou x fem! reader
Fluff (⁠◡⁠ ⁠ω⁠ ⁠◡⁠).
For Minnie <3
You moved on, you really thought you did but seeing him happy with somebody else while you were still where you are now triggered something within you, well someone wishes to change that... A regular customer maybe?
/ Pls lemme know the artists @!
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"Good morning" your coworker greeted you
"morning" you replied with a smile, for some reason today you felt like everything would go well.
You were in charge of taking orders today.
"Excuse me-" A familiar voice called out to you.
It was your ex, you were stunned you didn't know what to do unless he snapped you out of it again "Two strawberry shortcake, One latte and one Watermelons soda please." He only said that and returned to a table. With a girl.
Maybe your gut feeling that things would go right today wasn't correct after all.
"he didn't even say a hi... Of course why would he hah"
You wrote the order immediately down in a sticky note, you stole a glance at them before giving it to your coworker.
She was pretty, she really was. You felt she was even prettier than you taller than you and probably smarter than you too who knows.
You sighed and opened your phone to text your friend.
[You]
You won't believe ts,
I'm at work and for
some reason my ex who was in kyoto
Is in Tokyo's café where i work
Fml
[Friend]
WHAG
the odds are less but ever zero huh
GOOD LUCK
don't sweat it you guys ended it on
good terms isn't it?
Nth to worry abt
[You]
He's here with a girl :)
Probably new gf :))))
[Friend]
Oh....
Rip soldier ..
You closed your phone and almost went for a washroom break to bang your head on the wall but then the regular customer for 2 months walked in.
He approached the counter, "The regular?" You asked. He scratched his neck "Actually I have yet to decide" you handed him one of the sticky notes "After you decide you can write it here and bring it to me okay?"
40 seconds later he handed you the note.
Iced lemon soda
Blueberry cheesecake
You chuckled as you read it "he was going to write iced lemon soda anyway huh" then you saw there was an extremely scribbled line at the bottom you squinted your eyes but still couldn't read it.
That night you went home and devoured a whole box of ice cream watching comedy shows hoping it'll make you feel better.
The next day after school it started raining, it seems that the weather has been matching your mood lately and your bad luck has been consistent too, you held out a hand feeling the raindrops contemplating if you should wait till it stops or just run through it so you don't get late for work.
You sighed, you didn't want to get scolded by your manager again so you decided you'll just make a run for it, by running you'll reach there in 6 minutes of course it came with the risk of falling down and embarrassing yourself but you'd prefer that over getting scolded anyday.
Just as you put one foot into the slightly muddy ground something covered you from the above, a grey umbrella you turned your head to see it was the regular customer. "...what" it just came out of your mouth automatically. "Hm? Never seen me before?" He questioned, well you really didn't you entered this school only 4 months ago. "You go around here?" You asked. He smirked "That sounds like you're hittin' on me"
You raised your hand and waved it "huh no really.. I didn't know you studied here too.."
He just looked at the sky and then back at you "Well in any case we're heading the same way aren't we?"
"...to the café?" You asked. Just to be sure.
"Walking with me would be better than getting wet isn't it?"
Months passed and autumn arrived.
Of course you were working and he came again.
You walked to his table and folded your arms
"we're about to close"
"make some time for me yeah?" He put his one leg above the other.
Two people entered after him, it was your ex and that girl again.
You were less bothered by it this time because someone you knew was there. You tapped your feet "hurry I've gotta take orders of other people too y'know?"
He rested his chin on his hand "Actually I haven't decided yet"
You sighed and handed him a sticky note "you know what to do"
Before walking away you told him "It's my last day working here today by the way"
He hummed "My order today needs to be even more special then I guess"
After a minute he handed you the note.
Since you were already slightly annoyed and nervous from your ex and his girlfriend or whatever being there. You just handed the note to your co- worker who is also the manager without reading it. 4 seconds later she taps on your soldier "what is this..." You read it.
1 lemon iced soda
1 Jasmine milk tea
1 chocolate fudge
1 taro lava cake
1 chicken delight pizza
2 half cheese half sausage corn dogs and,
For the pretty cashier to share this with me
Custom order : her heart ♡
It was full of your favourite snacks from the café and most importantly what the hell was the last note, you immediately turned your face towards the opposite wall trying to hide your red face. Your manager sighed and put her hands on your shoulder. "Listen just go for it okay, you can take a leave today I won't reduce it from your paycheck"
"what????" You looked back at your manager, before you could say anything else she just pushed you "now off you go"
You pulled a seat in front of Suna and just sat there. "Why did you order so much? No way I can finish that" he leaned into the table now both his hands supporting his face. "I'll finish it for you then" you chuckled "like a trash panda?" He scoffed "yes. Like a trash panda."
Your gaze moved behind him, where your ex and his new girl were sitting Suna noticed that and his frown deepened he poked your cheek to face you towards him "How insulting, looking at others when I'm before you"
"I'm not..." You were about to pick your phone that was on the table to distract yourself but he pulled your phone back to him, you couldn't help but shamelessly notice his pretty hands "I'll repeat again, how can you focus on other things when I'm right here?"
Well let's say maybe you were gonna be getting a new boyfriend.
Everything felt sour until he added sugar.
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unproduciblesmackdown · 3 months ago
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the interlude in rotk of frodo exerting all effort against the strains of woodwinds to drag himself a meter or so further up mount doom
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wttcsms · 7 months ago
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triple trouble, atsumu miya
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pairing atsumu miya x f!reader word count 1.6k synopsis atsumu steals every reporters' attention as he introduces the media to his triplets during a post-game interview; or, more accurately, his triplets steal all the attention. like father, like sons. content contains domestic fluff, dad!atsumu, atsumu & reader are married and so in love, babies, mention of pregnancy more in this collection!
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The flashes of cameras going off, the constant exclamations of “Miya! Miya!” coming from the crowd of journalists and reporters all vying for his attention, the fact that the foldout chairs they use for all these post-game interviews are harder on your ass than falling on asphalt — all of this is being handled with ease by a smug Atsumu Miya.
Or, normally all of this would be handled with ease by a smug Atsumu Miya.
But right now, the Atsumu Miya struggling to take a seat in the most uncomfortable chair known to man, dyed hair a mess, his usual trademark smirk replaced by furrowed brows and a look of concentration, doesn’t appear to be the godlike adversary on the court. In fact, he looks oddly human. 
The cause of what has humbled this cocky athlete and reduced him to mere mortal man are the three chubby toddlers he’s cradling in his arms. 
All of them are identical, from their chubby cheeks to their little grubby hands. Heads full of thick, dark brown hair (reminiscent of their father’s natural color) poke out from Atsumu’s hold, and the eighteen-month-olds’ eyes are all full of childlike wonder as they watch the crowd, confused as to who all these people are. 
After finally getting settled into his seat, Atsumu addresses the crowd casually, as if he didn’t spend the last two minutes ensuring that his baby boys weren’t going to slip from his arms while he tried to prepare for this interview. Akimitsu is secured in his left arm, Akihiko in the right, leaving poor Akinari to cling onto Atsumu’s neck. 
While athletes have been getting more comfortable with bringing their kids up on stage with them, no one has ever seen a professional athlete haul his three babies with him. 
A fact that one reporter is more than happy to point out.
“Miya, wife put you on babysitting duty?” A male journalist calls out from the crowd. A few chuckles follow, but Atsumu just smiles at the mention of you.
“Nah. It’s not babysittin’ if they’re your damn kids, right? Besides, she deserves a break.” A few appreciative murmurs flutter through the crowd. 
After the initial surprise of seeing identical triplets being carried in the MSBY Black Jackals’ setter’s arms, the reporters are back to business as usual. They’re all professionals — even if hearing Atsumu give them a great quote to use as a hook (“I respect Nakamura as a human bein’ but calling him a setter for a professional league volleyball team is an insult to setters everywhere.”) is followed by him cooing sweet words of affirmation to whichever of his sons happens to be babbling in his ears. 
“Nakamura isn’t a very good player, is he, Akihiko?” No one outside of your family and his teammates have ever heard Atsumu sound so affectionate. His words are practically coated in sugar, and it’s hard to remember that he’s insulting another player in the league whenever he’s practically bumping noses with his toddler son when he says it. 
Akihiko, most likely due to his father’s influence, lets out a stream of enthusiastic gurgles that Atsumu automatically translates to him being in complete agreement with him. 
“Write that down.” He says to the crowd. “Even my baby knows he’s shit at the game.” 
There’s a few more minutes of Atsumu answering the usual post-game questions, but halfway through one of his responses, Akinari loses his grip on Atsumu’s neck and is about to tumble to the floor before Atsumu’s reflexes kick in. You’ve made a joke once that you think Atsumu’s reflexes have become heightened after becoming a father; his athletic instincts have merged with the famous “dad reflexes” all fathers seem to be gifted with. (Atsumu tells reporters that this is why he keeps on becoming a better player; people think his family would hold him back, but once again, family is his greatest blessing.)
“Ya gotta hang onto me, buddy.” Atsumu can’t even pretend to be stern when he tells this to Akinari, who only smiles at him and exclaims something unintelligible. He shifts Akinari to his left arm, relaxes back in his seat, and is even excited to answer a question concerning his play style compared to Tobio Kageyama’s, but as he readjusts the two boys in his arms, Atsumu can’t help but startle at the fact that he has three kids. Not just two. 
Momentarily panicked, he almost wants to ask why the hell no one told him one of his kids jumped ship but then he feels a tug on the bottom hem of his volleyball shorts. 
Peering under the table, Atsumu is greeted with the sight of Akimitsu’s mischievous little face. He’s the oldest of the three and takes after Atsumu the most — meaning, he’s the cutest little nightmare there could ever be. 
“Whatcha doin’ under the table, Mitsu?” Atsumu asks, and Akimitsu gives out a happy, gleeful shriek. He’s clapping his grubby hands together and cheering. 
“Dada found me!” 
“I did find ya, buddy.” Atsumu coos. “Now why don’t you come sit on daddy’s lap?” 
After wrangling up all his kids once more, Atsumu sighs and looks up at the timer in front of him. 
“I have enough time for one more question.” He tells the crowd.
“Are you excited to get out of here and get back home to the wife?” 
“I’m always happy to come home to [Name]. If there’s a professional league for motherhood, she’s going into the hall of fame. I don’t know how she handles these fools by herself all day.” 
Akihiko takes a tiny, chubby hand and smacks Atsumu in the face. Repeatedly. 
“Home! Home!” His slaps get slightly more aggressive, but Atsumu’s received some serves with his face before, so it doesn’t really phase him. “Home! Mama!” 
“Well, you heard the man.” Atsumu actually gives a genuine smile for the cameras. “We gotta head home.”
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You’re applying your moisturizer in the bathroom despite the mirror being fogged up from the hot shower. It’s probably why you don’t anticipate strong arms wrapping themselves around your body, and you gasp before your muscle memory recognizes him. Your body easily relaxes against his, and you’re smiling as you ask your husband, 
“Had a good day today?”
“We took ‘em in two straight sets. Slaughtered the other team to the point where it wasn’t even fair.” He angles his head just right so he can kiss you on the cheek, but you gently slap him away.
“I’m putting on moisturizer right now.”
“Great. My lips are dry.” He goes in for another kiss, and even though you’re giggling, trying to pull away from him, he still plants a peck on your soft skin. “Should I go for seconds, just for good measure?” He teases.
“Hmm, I guess so.” 
“Oh? What’s with the change? Realize how much you can’t live without my touch?” He pulls you in closer to him, your back pressed firmly against his chest. He’s fresh out the shower, stray droplets of water greedily clinging onto his skin. 
“Maybe.” You tilt your head back on the front of his shoulder so that you can see him. “You know your interview is trending on Twitter, right?” 
“Oh, yeah? Bet Nakamura’s pissed.” Atsumu sounds too happy at the concept. 
“No. There’s actually an interesting clip that keeps going around. Someone already used it as an intro for a thirst edit of you.” 
You like it when Atsumu is thinking. There’s an adorable crease in between his furrowed brows, and you can practically see him going through the memory files in his brain, trying to figure out what could possibly be worthy of inspiring an edit of him. 
“You seriously don’t know?” You’re laughing at him, and it’s the sweetest sound in the world. Atsumu doesn’t take kindly to being the butt of a joke, but from the moment he saw you, he knew he’d do anything to stay by your side, even becoming a fucking court jester if that’s what it took. 
You reach for your phone on the counter, taking a few seconds to load up the fan edit you have favorited. 
He’s burying his face in your hair, hiding away as he hears the audio of him going now why don’t you come sit on daddy’s lap playing on a loop. He groans when you let it replay, uncharacteristically shy as you keep telling him to watch it. 
“The comments are the best part, though, baby!” You haven’t been able to stop giggling at jackingthejackalsoff’s very bold and very true statement of yeah, if i were [name], i’d pop out triplets for him too tf 😭🙏.  
As Atsumu’s hands travel to rest against the growing swell of your belly, you tease him. “So, when the twins are born, do you think you’ll have enough space in your arms to haul all five of our kids, or should we finally use that baby chest carrier Shoyo gifted us?” 
“I can carry all of ‘em and you onto that stage.” He regrets making this smug remark whenever you slightly drop your teasing tone and use what he dubs The Mom Voice on him.
“Oh? If that’s true, then why did it take you so long to realize Akimitsu crawled out of your arms while you were busy calling your opponents scrubs?” 
“Have I ever told you what a wonderful mother you are? And this moisturizer! Wow, I don’t know what you’ve been doing with your skin, baby, but keep it up.” He’s peppering your face with more kisses, hurriedly trying to change the subject, and you gladly let him.
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19calicos · 4 months ago
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when the sun sets, it rises again – miya osamu (one shot)
word count: 2.1k
cw: gn! reader (no pronouns mentioned), osamu uses "darling" as a pet name, established relationship, supportive osamu, depressive episode basically, coping, difficulty eating + lack of appetite, smoking a cigarette, feelings of guilt and hopelessness, some crying, angst, healing, hurt/comfort, happy ending, lowercase intended
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it takes one flick of your lighter, and the tip of your half-smoked cigarette is alight once more.
you’re sitting on the flat part of your apartment roof, hidden away from neighbors in your building and others with decent privacy. your legs are bent and tucked into your chest, arms folded on top of your elbows, cigarette loosely hanging between two fingers. you keep your face buried, and only your eyes are visible.
"hey, darlin'," osamu's voice calls from your balcony below. a peek over the edge reveals him, dressed cozy with your favorite jacket of his thrown over his shoulder and a bag with a tupperware container and two thermoses in his hand. in familiar movements, he climbs onto the balcony ledge and pulls himself onto the roof, drapes his jacket around your shoulders, and settles in his spot by your side.
you turn your head away from the sunset and to your boyfriend.
"hi, 'samu," you reply, with a slight smile, albeit strained. the corners of your eyes don't crinkle with the smile though, he observes, but it's been that way for the past week now. you pass the cigarette to him. he accepts it, places it between his lips.
"i brought home the pork buns that ya like. want some?"
osamu turns so that his whole body is facing you, one leg folded on top of the other. he first carefully places the two thermoses, unscrewing the lids and unveiling miso soup. then comes the fogged up tupperware container in the space between you two, and when he pops the lid off, you see the steam rise. they're fresh and they look picture perfect; normally, you would have whipped your phone out right away to take a picture. instead, you blink at the meal and untuck your legs, finally putting his jacket on properly.
he takes this as a silent sure, and hands you the first pork bun. you both mumble a small thank you for the food, and dig in. osamu is quick to finish his–you could tell he was eager to enjoy his handicraft of such a time-consuming recipe that he'd prepped a large batch of–and you feel guilty as you only nibble slowly at yours. you consider placing your bun back in the tupperware for when your appetite comes back, but you decide against it.
it's osamu's cooking after all, and even with the way you've been feeling lately, you convince yourself to eat.
in the few bites of the pork bun you managed to eat so far, you tasted the love and effort osamu always cooks with. you knew that these were prepped for onigiri miya (it's an experimental item at the moment), so you appreciate that he brought home something he meant to sell. it feels a bit wasted, you think to yourself since you're not in a state where you can fully enjoy the bun, but you're trying hard not to be so pessimistic with his kindness that you fell in love with so long ago.
you reach for the miso soup and drink some of it. this one's easier to tackle since you don't need to put energy in chewing.
osamu takes a drag of the cigarette, mirrors you and drinks his miso soup too, and smiles fondly. he sees the effort to eat, and he feels proud of you.
"good job, darlin'," he leans forward and tucks some of your hair behind your ear: he wants to make sure you know he's proud. "i love ya."
the gesture and his words are simple, but they make you pause momentarily, make your eyes water ever so slightly–it's always been the smallest things that got you worked up. you try to swallow your reaction down with another bite, and you're barely successful. you put the now half-eaten bun back in the tupperware, pop the lid on top again for later. you don't look at osamu as you do this, even though you knew he wouldn't take any offense.
he's patient with you. it's another thing about him that you fell in love with. he makes you remember that there are good things when you feel like there are none.
"how was your day?" you manage to ask him. the cigarette is between your fingers once more.
you and osamu face the sunset now, watching how the sun sinks slowly. the soft pinks and purples of the sky fade into a deep blue. he looks thoughtfully at it, and at the twinkling tokyo cityscape too.
"today was alright, nothin' special. i had a bit less customers than usual, but it happens, i s'pose. it gave me more time to experiment with the pork buns and some side dishes," osamu casually shares. you hum in response. "how was yours?"
you sit with the question. it's harmless, but it sets you off a little. you know osamu cares about you and is checking in for your progress, but it makes your shoulders feel heavier. it's not his fault, really, it's just a lot right now to be asked how your days were, how you're doing.
today was grey and hazy, just like yesterday, the day before, and before that too. you'd blink after staring at a wall and three hours already passed you by. your head kept circling back to less enjoyable thoughts, repeating them like a broken record, and when you weren't at work you were in bed, letting your body eventually ache from how long you'd stay beneath the sheets, barely moving. it's been days since your chest felt light and full; these days, it was like your heart went missing, and the hole where it's supposed to be felt numb and empty, yet heavy and incapacitating. it makes you feel like this was all you've ever known, all you ever will know.
so you settle with telling osamu, "same as yesterday."
he scoots closer to you, slings his arm around your shoulders and holds you close to him. you hear the beat of his heart, steady and stable, reliable. it soothes you, brings you back from the fog your head has been in, but only just a bit.
"'samu, could i say something heavy?" you ask tentatively.
"of course, i'm all ears."
you exhale a little. "i feel like i'm never gonna get better."
you're not sure what came over you when you say it. maybe it's the cigarette that's making you honest tonight.
osamu doesn't seem to react, but really though, he's matching his breaths with yours, trying to comfort you in the little ways. you keep going nonetheless.
you and osamu watch as the smoke from it dances, rising to the stars, illuminated by the city, the fairy lights of your balcony, and the moon. then you kill the cigarette, drive the butt into the gravel of the roof and leave it at your side.
"i know i'll come back from this soon. i always do. but each time it comes around i just feel more and more tired."
he looks at you, presses a kiss to your temple. it's all he can do to try to soothe you, and he knows you have more to say. you tear up again, and this time you let a couple tears fall. you steady yourself though, and osamu knows how strong you are to be able to do that, so he wipes the tears for you, thumb impossibly gentle.
"i just, i'm frustrated. i'm trying to do everything right, the things you're supposed to when it gets bad. i'm making myself keep going to work, keep up the routines, i do my best at texting my friends back. i go outside and walk around the block and come up here to watch the sunset everyday. i try to eat real meals, i try to keep the apartment clean, do the things i love even when it makes me so tired. but i still feel this way, and it feels like it's for nothing."
you know that you're always the one to pull yourself through times like this, that's just how it is, but it's more draining this time around. the pain is there all the same.
osamu's heart breaks from your confession. he wishes you could see how strong you are to tell him this, how strong you are to try to keep up good habits when all you want to do is fade away. it's unimaginably hard. he sees it. he feels it. he knows it.
you've come so far, really. he knew that if it was you from a year ago, you'd do the opposite and let things crumble around you.
so he tells you.
"hey," he begins, then reaches over to hold your hand in his and kiss your knuckles. "yer getting better. it hurts, i can see it, but you've come a long way."
he wants to prove you wrong. he sees how you shut your eyes tight, bring in your knees impossible close to your chest. so he pulls you in closer, and wipes another one of your tears.
"ya didn't always do these things before. but you are now, and you're doing wonderfully. you're doing everything right, i promise."
then he lays a kiss to your forehead. he doesn't know what else he can do for you, so he's trying to put more into everything he does know to do.
"i'm proud of you, i always have been. and i love you. i love you more everyday. i'll take care of you, and i'll help you take care of yourself, always."
you look at him, and you take in his cool, steel grey eyes that always look at you with the warmest of love. the tears quietly flow freely down your face, the drops rolling off your cheeks. you wipe one side of your face, osamu beats you to the other. a hiccup catches in your throat, and your shoulders start to shake a bit.
"let's go inside, yeah? it's cold, and i'd love nothin' more than to cuddle up with ya under a blanket."
his words of comfort warmed you up alone. you didn't realize that maybe you wanted to hear things like that, that someone was proud of you and all the effort you've put. osamu has half-convinced you that there is merit in these habits you've been trying to cultivate, that it's not for nothing. you'll have to see the fruits of your labor.
you want to believe him, so you choose to, and you make the effort to trust your decision—you know from being with osamu that you can live in happiness, that it’s not something you don’t deserve. and it might be temporary, but it brings some of your heart back into your chest.
you follow osamu down the roof, drop back down onto the balcony with him, slide the door closed. you tell him you think you want to sleep, that you love and appreciate him but you feel low on energy from the vulnerability, and he's more than happy to support you and do what you need.
in your bed thirty minutes later, he holds you close to him and tucks the comforter up to your chins. he presses another kiss to your forehead, and you think to yourself that tomorrow will come, and that you could push through another day.
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the day where your heart returns to you comes.
you feel it when you wake up, and you find yourself believing it with the way the light through the window panes seem just a little brighter. your chest feels less heavy, less numb, doesn't ache as much as it did yesterday.
you look up and out the window. it's a deep blue outside, but you could see the sunrise creeping, pushing it away, creating an ombré with a shade of lavender and bringing in light hues of orange and yellow. you watch as the sky settles into its daily bright blue and lights up the room in a mid-morning glow.
it's been some time since the rooftop sunset with osamu. next to you he is still asleep, bedhead and dried drool and everything. you love him so much, you think to yourself, and you're the one to press a kiss on his forehead this time, a silent message thanking him for supporting you so steadily.
you know that even if he wasn't there with you, you'd make it out of the tunnel to the other side. you're resilient that way, but it's easier with him there. it's easier when you know you have his love to recall upon when you think you'll never get better.
so you slide out of bed slowly as to not disturb your lover's slumber, tiptoe to the kitchen to brew the two mugs of coffee that osamu took over making in the mornings for the time being. the smell of the blend comforts you, and you realize it smells more vivid. you take a sip of it, and even though you burn your tongue a little, the taste of it blossoms. it didn't before.
there's a yawn in the doorway. you turn with less tired eyes and a small smile. "morning, 'samu. did you sleep well?"
he nods and leans in the door frame, hands in the pockets of his sweats, his patient, gentle smile beaming at you. osamu knows: your heart is finding its way back to your chest. you're a little brighter, a little more energetic.
you hand him his mug of coffee, and when you sip in unison with him, you can't help but smile.
he sees the crinkle in the corners of your eyes again.
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starleska · 4 months ago
Note
Just a quick note, but it is making me laugh that "Le Mal" means "the Bad" and Maxime means The Greatest. So his name just means "The Greatest (of) The Evil. "
ah yes...my favourite notorious supervillain:
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93 notes · View notes
sweetlyvibe · 20 days ago
Text
𝗖𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗕𝗘𝗧𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗡
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PAIRING : Osamu Miya x F!Reader ,
GENRE : angst/comfort
WC: 2.5k
SUMMARY : Osamu Miya always felt second to his brother, Atsumu, especially in love. But when you confess your feelings to Osamu, he’s shocked—especially when he discovers Atsumu likes you too.
CONTENT/WARNINGS : Insecurity, love triangle, jealousy, emotional conflict, unrequited love, use of y/n, Imk if i missed anything!
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Osamu Miya wasn’t one to get hung up on things. Life was simple for him—school, volleyball, helping at the family restaurant. He wasn’t chasing after big dreams like his twin brother, Atsumu, who wanted to be the best setter in Japan. No, Osamu was content with keeping things balanced. It was probably why everyone gravitated toward Atsumu more than him, and he was fine with that. At least, he used to be.
But it started to sting a little when it came to you.
Every time he saw you laughing at one of Atsumu’s jokes, or worse, when he caught his brother bragging about how you looked at him during practice, it was like a knot in his stomach that wouldn’t loosen. Osamu knew Atsumu had charm, that magnetic pull that brought people in effortlessly. Atsumu would get confessions left and right, girls practically fawning over him, while Osamu stayed on the sidelines. Not that it bothered him most of the time—those girls didn’t even bother to learn the difference between the two.
But you weren’t like most girls. That’s what made it harder for him. And maybe that’s why Osamu was convinced you’d never look at him the way you looked at Atsumu.
Because who would?
Osamu couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he realized he liked you more than he wanted to admit. It was probably one of those quiet moments after practice, when you smiled at him like he was the only one in the room. But then, without fail, Atsumu would butt in with his usual confidence, and you’d shift your attention back to his brother. Osamu would shrug it off, pretending like it didn’t matter, like he didn’t notice the way Atsumu’s eyes lit up whenever he saw you.
As much as it bothered him, Osamu didn’t hate his brother for it. Atsumu was his twin, after all. They didn’t talk much about feelings, but Osamu could tell that Atsumu liked you too. That should’ve been enough to stop him from getting his hopes up. Atsumu was always the one people chose—why would this time be any different?
Osamu tried to convince himself that it didn’t matter. He was fine just being your friend, having quiet conversations with you when Atsumu wasn’t around to steal the spotlight. But the more he thought about it, the more it felt like he was stuck in his brother’s shadow, unable to step out and tell you how he really felt.
He wasn’t flashy like Atsumu. He didn’t have the same loud confidence, the same need to be seen by everyone. And maybe that’s why he believed he didn’t stand a chance with you. You were friendly with him, sure, but so was everyone else. To Osamu, he was just the other Miya twin—the quieter one, the one you probably didn’t see in the same way.
The day everything turned upside down started off like any other. It was a slow morning after practice, and Osamu was heading to the lockers to grab his things. His mind was still on the game—what they could’ve done better, how Atsumu had nagged at him for missing a spike, the usual banter. He didn’t even notice the small piece of paper sticking out of his locker until he was pulling out his shoes.
At first, Osamu thought it was some leftover flyer from the school festival or something, but when he opened it, his stomach dropped.
It was a letter.
A love letter.
Osamu stared at it, his mind struggling to catch up. The neat handwriting spelled out his name, and a few lines below, a simple but direct confession. His heart started beating faster than he wanted to admit, and for a second, he wondered if this was some kind of joke. Him? Getting a love letter?
But then, he saw the name at the bottom.
Your name.
Osamu blinked, rereading it, making sure he wasn’t hallucinating. But there it was, in your handwriting, as clear as day. You liked him?
He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what to think. All this time, Osamu had convinced himself that you were like everyone else, that you probably had a crush on Atsumu like most people did. But this letter—it was real. You liked him, not his brother. It was like the ground had shifted beneath him, leaving him standing on unsteady footing.
A part of Osamu felt guilty. He knew Atsumu liked you—he could see it in the way his brother tried to impress you, how he talked about you after practice like you were someone special. And here Osamu was, holding the proof that you liked him instead.
Later that day, when Osamu saw you, his heart did this strange thing, like it couldn’t decide whether to race or stop entirely. You didn’t seem different, didn’t act any different. You were just you, smiling at him like you always did when you passed by.
Osamu thought about how easy it would be to just pretend he never saw the letter. Maybe it would be better for everyone. He could ignore it, let you and Atsumu have a shot at each other. Atsumu was better at this sort of thing—more confident, more open. He wouldn’t hesitate like Osamu was doing now. Maybe it was selfish for Osamu to think he deserved your attention.
But then he remembered the way your handwriting had spelled out his name, how you’d written that you liked him, not Atsumu. And that was enough to push him to act.
Osamu found himself waiting for you after class. His nerves twisted in his stomach the whole time, but when you finally came out, you looked surprised to see him standing there.
“Hey,” Osamu said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Can we talk for a second?”
You raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Sure, what’s up?”
He reached into his pocket, pulling out the folded letter. “I found this… in my locker.”
Your eyes widened when you saw the letter, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. Osamu couldn’t read your expression, and he didn’t know what to expect. Did you regret it? Was it a joke? Had you written it by mistake?
“I… I didn’t know if I should bring it up,” Osamu admitted, unsure of how to navigate the situation. “But… is it real? Like, do you really…?”
Your cheeks flushed, and you looked down, nodding. “Yeah, it’s real. I wasn’t sure if you’d see it, or if you’d even want to talk about it, but… yeah.”
Osamu’s heart was pounding. This was real. You really liked him. After all the doubts, after convincing himself that you were just like everyone else, you had chosen him.
“I… I don’t know what to say,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “I didn’t think you’d feel that way about me.”
You smiled, a small, gentle smile that made Osamu’s heart race all over again. “Why wouldn’t I? I like you because you’re you, Osamu. You’re thoughtful, calm, and funny in a way that doesn’t need attention. You don’t try to be anyone else. I like that. I like you.”
Osamu could hardly believe what he was hearing. The words didn’t feel real, like they belonged in someone else’s life. Yet here you were, standing in front of him, looking at him with eyes that said you meant every word.
“I like you too,” Osamu finally managed to say, the words clumsy but honest. “I just didn’t think I had a chance.”
You stepped a little closer, your voice soft but clear. “Well, now you know. You do.”
The next few days passed in a blur, Osamu floating through them with a mixture of disbelief and happiness. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, about the fact that you had chosen him. For the first time, he didn’t feel like he was just the other Miya twin. He was someone you saw, someone you liked.
But there was something nagging at the back of his mind. Atsumu. He hadn’t told him yet, and he wasn’t sure how to. Osamu knew his brother better than anyone. He knew that Atsumu didn’t take rejection well, especially when it came to something he cared about. And even though you hadn’t outright rejected Atsumu, Osamu knew that his brother liked you. A lot.
The storm was coming, and Osamu couldn’t avoid it forever.
It came sooner than he expected. A few days later, after practice, Atsumu cornered him in the locker room, his signature smirk plastered on his face.
“Oi, Osamu,” Atsumu called out, leaning against the lockers. “Guess what? I think Y/N’s about to confess to me.”
Osamu froze, pretending to busy himself with his things. “Oh yeah?” he muttered, trying to sound casual.
“Yeah,” Atsumu went on, oblivious to the tension building. “She’s been hangin’ around me a lot more lately. It’s only a matter of time, I can feel it.”
Osamu’s stomach twisted. He knew this moment was coming, but it didn’t make it any easier.
Atsumu continued talking, his voice filled with excitement. “I’ve been waitin’ for this. I think she’s finally gonna make a move.”
Osamu clenched his fists, his heart pounding. He couldn’t avoid it any longer. “Atsumu… about that.”
Atsumu frowned, his smirk faltering as he noticed the serious tone in Osamu’s voice. “What? You jealous or somethin’?”
Osamu shook his head. “No. It’s just… she already confessed.”
Atsumu blinked in confusion. “She already confessed to me?”
“No,” Osamu said quietly, feeling the weight of his words. “She confessed to me.”
For a moment, there was only silence. Atsumu stared at him, processing what Osamu had just said. Then his confusion shifted into disbelief, followed by a slow dawning of understanding.
“Wait… what?” Atsumu’s voice was quieter now, almost cautious. “You’re tellin’ me… she chose you?”
Osamu nodded, his chest tightening. He didn’t want to hurt his brother, but there was no way around it. “Yeah. She left a letter in my locker. She told me she likes me.”
Atsumu’s face was unreadable for a few seconds, the smirk completely gone now. The playful, teasing edge that usually colored his voice was nowhere to be found.
“So, she… likes you?” Atsumu asked again, his tone flat, like he was still trying to wrap his head around it.
Osamu felt a surge of guilt. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I didn’t plan this, Atsumu. I didn’t think she’d—”
“It’s fine,” Atsumu cut him off, his voice sharp. “You don’t need to explain.”
The air between them grew tense, and Osamu could see the hurt flicker across Atsumu’s face, even though his brother was doing his best to hide it. Atsumu had never been good at dealing with rejection—he thrived on being wanted, on being the center of attention. And now, for the first time, someone had chosen Osamu over him.
Atsumu let out a bitter laugh, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Well, ain’t that somethin’. Guess I’m not as irresistible as I thought.”
Osamu winced at the sarcastic tone, wishing there was a way to make this easier. He knew Atsumu’s pride was bruised, and no amount of explanation would change that.
“Look, I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Osamu started, but Atsumu held up a hand, cutting him off again.
“It’s fine, Osamu,” Atsumu repeated, though his voice was tight with frustration. “You don’t have to explain.”
The silence that followed was heavy, both brothers unsure of what to say next. Atsumu ran a hand through his hair, glancing away as if trying to process everything.
“Guess you finally one-upped me, huh?” Atsumu said with a forced smirk, though the bitterness in his voice was hard to miss.
Osamu wanted to say something, anything to make this less painful, but before he could, Atsumu turned on his heel and headed toward the door. “Don’t worry about it, ‘Samu. I’ll be fine.”
And with that, Atsumu walked out of the locker room, leaving Osamu standing there alone, a mix of relief and guilt swirling in his chest.
The days after that conversation were strange. Atsumu wasn’t the type to stay upset for long, and soon enough, he was back to his usual self, at least on the surface. He still joked around, still bragged and teased, but there was something different in the way he interacted with Osamu. It wasn’t obvious to most people, but Osamu could tell. There was a slight distance between them, an unspoken tension that neither of them wanted to address directly.
But despite the guilt Osamu felt, there was something else too—something warm and undeniable that came from knowing you had chosen him. Whenever he saw you, his heart would race in that unfamiliar, but welcome way. You were still you, kind and thoughtful, treating him the same way you always had, but now there was something more between the two of you. Something real.
Osamu still wasn’t used to it, the idea that you liked him, but he was trying to get there. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he wasn’t supposed to be the one in this position—that Atsumu was supposed to be the one who got your attention, not him. But every time you smiled at him or laughed at one of his dry comments, those insecurities faded a little more.
One afternoon, a few weeks after the confession, Osamu found himself sitting next to you outside the school, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow over the courtyard. You were talking about something—Osamu wasn’t really paying attention, his mind too busy replaying everything that had happened over the past few weeks.
“Osamu?” you said, nudging him gently. “You’re spacing out.”
He blinked, realizing he hadn’t been listening. “Sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just thinkin’.”
You tilted your head, giving him a curious look. “About what?”
Osamu hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should bring it up. But something about the way you were looking at him made him feel like he could be honest. “I still don’t get why you chose me,” he admitted quietly. “I just… I didn’t think I was the type of guy someone would go for. Especially when Atsumu’s right there.”
You frowned slightly, shifting closer to him. “Osamu, I already told you. I chose you because you’re you. Atsumu’s great, but… he’s not you.”
Osamu looked at you, a mixture of surprise and warmth filling his chest. He’d heard you say it before, but each time, it felt like he was hearing it for the first time.
You reached out, gently resting your hand on his. “You don’t have to compare yourself to him. I don’t. I like you for who you are, Osamu. And nothing’s going to change that.”
For the first time in a long while, Osamu felt like he didn’t have to live in his brother’s shadow. You saw him, just as he was, and that was enough.
A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he looked at you. “Thanks,” he said softly. “That… means a lot.”
You smiled back, squeezing his hand gently. “Anytime.”
And for the first time in what felt like forever, Osamu Miya felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be.
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. 🏐 〃 ⋯ TAGGING : : @0samuslove @yoghurtsan @lxdymoon0357 @achy-boo
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218 notes · View notes
minarixx · 1 year ago
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𝐀𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 ✯ 𝐓.𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨
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"𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙙𝙪𝙘𝙚𝙙. 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙤 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙗 𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠 𝙢𝙚."
PAIRING. Best Friend'sDad!Kuroo Tetsurou x f!Reader
CONTENT. Sexual Content, Age Gap, Adultery, Degradation, Pet Names, Sub!Reader, Dom!Kuroo, Vaginal Intercourse, Spanking
The hidden struggles and desires lurking behind the façade of Kuroo Tetsurou's seemingly picture-perfect suburban family. An ordinary man who, in the midst of a midlife crisis, becomes infatuated with his daughter's friends, Y/N L/N.
WC. 4.2k
A/N. Proof-read like half and hoped for the best. Ts too long not reading allat
WARNING. Minors DNI
Inspired by American Beauty (1999)
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𝓣he mid-morning sun filtered through the blinds, casting a soft, golden glow on the bedroom walls. Another day in the monotonous cycle of Kuroo’s existence begins. Pulling away from the blissful embrace of sleep, he fumbles to silence the alarm clock, its persistent beeping an unwelcome reminder of the unremarkable hours that lie ahead.
Staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror,he saw a stranger. Deep lines etched themselves deeper into his face, a testament to the weight of a life half-lived.He wondered where the spark of vitality and adventure that once defined him went, as he forced a smile that felt foreign on his weary lips.
Downstairs, the illusion of domestic tranquility is maintained. Akira, his wife, moved through the kitchen with an air of calculated efficiency. Every gesture, every word, a well-rehearsed performance. Beneath her composed facade, was the growing chasm that separated them, a canyon of unspoken grievances and unfulfilled desires.
Nana, his daughter, slouches at the breakfast table, lost in the world behind her headphones. Her sullen gaze hints at the disconnection that has settled between them, a silent reminder of the fragments of intimacy that have slipped away unnoticed. He ached for the days when laughter echoed through these walls, when a genuine connection was forged in the simple moments they shared.
The room was shrouded in an eerie silence as the family sat around the dining table. The clinking of cutlery against plates echoed through the room, accompanied only by the occasional rustle of napkins. Each family member seemed lost in their own thoughts, their faces masked with a disinterested expression.
Nana, a quiet and reserved teenager, took a deep breath and broke the monotony. She glanced at her parents, Kuroo and Akira, who were engrossed in their own world, their eyes fixed on their untouched meals. Her voice barely above a whisper, she quietly shared, "I have a cheer performance tonight."
Akira and Kuroo exchanged a brief, absent-minded glance before shifting their gaze back to their plates. Their lack of response was disheartening but not unexpected.
“We’ll be sure to come dear, what time is it?” Akira replied. “6pm mother.” Nana responded, not looking enthusiastic about it. 
Without uttering another word, they continued their silent meal, the sound of chewing filling the void that enveloped the room.
When 6pm rolled in, Akira and Kuroo drove to their daughters' cheer performance in silence as usual, no music, just the sounds of the bustling streets of Tokyo. 
Tetsurou Kuroo, a man adrift in the desolate sea of middle-aged mediocrity, found himself drawn to the vibrant chaos of his daughter Nana’s high school cheerleading performance. As he sat in the bleachers, surrounded by enthusiastic parents and the deafening cheers of the crowd, a peculiar restlessness stirred within his soul.
His eyes scanned the sea of young faces, each filled with anticipation and hope. And then, like a siren's call, his gaze fell upon you. You, a vision of youthful allure and confidence, stood at the forefront of the cheerleading squad. Your (h/c) hair cascaded over your shoulders, framing a face adorned with delicate features that seemed to radiate an intoxicating beauty. You radiated a youthful energy, an untamed spirit that danced in your eyes. Laughter, like cascading melodies, echoes through the air, and for a fleeting moment, time slows as your gazes meet. 
In that instant, time seemed to slow down, the constraints of his ordinary existence fade away, and the dormant embers of desire ignite within him. The world around Kuroo blurred into the background, as if a spotlight had illuminated you, isolating you from the rest of the universe. Your smile, a seductive curve of lips, pierced through his complacency and ignited a dormant flame within him.
Kuroo's thoughts swirled with a mix of admiration and desire. He couldn't help but be captivated by your aura of self-assuredness, the way you moved with a grace that defied your tender age. You symbolized everything he had lost touch with—youth, vitality, and the intoxicating allure of unbridled passion.
As he watched you perform, Kuroo's mind became a battleground of conflicting emotions. A part of him yearned for the forbidden, to embrace the vibrancy of youth and indulge in the forbidden fruit of desire. Yet another part recoiled in guilt, acutely aware of the consequences and the moral boundaries he risked crossing.
But beneath the surface of his infatuation, a deeper realization began to take hold. He understood that you, with your superficial allure, was merely a vessel for his own misplaced longings. You represented a nostalgia for the freedom and excitement of his own youth, a time when possibilities seemed limitless and life was an open road.
Kuroo's thoughts ventured into the depths of self-reflection. He questioned the choices that had led him to this point—the compromises, the sacrifices, and the loss of his own identity. Your  ethereal beauty became a symbol of the life he had forsaken, a reminder of the person he had once been and longed to reclaim.
But as the cheerleading routine came to an end and you disappeared into the bustling crowd, reality settled in. Kuroo recognized the ephemeral nature of his infatuation. You were but a mirage, a fleeting embodiment of his own disillusionment. The true path to fulfillment in rediscovering the beauty himself.
And so, as the applause faded and the cheerleaders retreated from the spotlight so did Kuroo's fantasy.
Kuroo rose from the bleachers and got ready to congratulate his daughter. As they were in the hallways picking up their daughter, his eyes lit up when he saw you holding bouquet from your parents. Your smile shined brighter than any other. It was like those cartoons of a man smelling food and floating towards it, however to him, it was as if he hadn't ate for years.
Kuroo later found himself standing at the window of his dimly lit study, gazing out at the world beyond. His eyes, once dulled by routine, now seemed alive with a glimmer of hope. A gentle breeze danced through the curtains, rustling the papers on his desk. Lost in his thoughts, Kuroo pondered the emptiness that had consumed his life. The monotony of his job, the strained relationships with his wife and daughter, and the relentless pursuit of societal expectations had left him feeling like a hollow shell. A desperate longing for something more whispered within his soul, a plea for salvation from the mundane.
And then, as if in response to his silent prayer, he saw her. A figure, ethereal and captivating, emerged from the shadows. The evening light caressed your porcelain skin, and your flowing white dress seemed to float around you like a cloud. Your hair, cascading in waves like the milky way, framed a face that radiated a beauty so rare and otherworldly, it took Kuroo's breath away.
At that moment, time stood still. Kuroo’s heart, burdened by years of disillusionment, skipped a beat. It was as if an angel had descended from the heavens, gracing his world with her divine presence. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her, as though caught in a mesmerizing spell.
As his gaze locked with yours, Kuroo’s mind was flooded with a torrent of emotions. A sense of longing and desire, but also a profound sense of understanding. In her eyes, he saw a reflection of his own hidden dreams and forgotten aspirations. It was a connection beyond words, a silent conversation that reached deep into his soul.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Kuroo felt truly alive. The weight of societal expectations and the shackles of conformity melted away, replaced by a surge of newfound liberation. In this mystical encounter, he glimpsed the possibility of breaking free from the chains that bound him.
His thoughts swirled in a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations. He yearned to abandon the trappings of his past life, to embrace the beauty and wonder that beckoned him. The angel became a symbol of his redemption, a guiding light in the darkness of his existence.
When morning came he was back to his mundane life routine, it was all just a dream. The morning sun painted gentle streaks of golden light across the kitchen as Kuroo sat down at the breakfast table, his mind still grappling with the lingering thoughts from the previous day's encounter at the high school cheerleading performance. He had been captivated by the enigmatic allure of you, yet a part of him recognized the illusory nature of his infatuation.
"I'll be working the night shift today.." Akira spoke, her back turned to Kuroo as she lightly spread avocado on her toast. Kuroo didn't reply.
As he reached for a slice of toast, his daughter Nana entered the room, her eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and mischief. She took a seat opposite Kuroo, her youthful energy providing a stark contrast to his own disillusionment.
"Dad," Nana began, "My friend Y/N from cheer is coming over."
“Who is Y/N? I mean, I know she's your friend, but what's she like?"
"Oh, Dad, you have no idea. Y/N is the epitome of beauty. She's confident, charismatic, and has this aura that draws people in. She's got this wild, rebellious spirit that's so different from anyone else I know."
Kuroo’s eyebrows furrowed, a mix of intrigue and caution flickering in his eyes. "Sounds like quite a character. But what's her story? I mean, besides being your friend and all."
Nana replied. "Well, she's got this reputation, you know? The boys at school go crazy over her. She's always surrounded by attention, but she's smart too. She knows how to use her charm to get what she wants."
Kuroo’s mind raced, caught between the allure of your magnetic presence and the nagging voice of reason that warned against crossing forbidden boundaries. "Nana, I hope you understand that there's a lot more to a person than just their outward appearance or reputation. It's important to look beyond the surface and value the qualities that truly matter."
Nana nodded, her expression turning thoughtful. "I get it, Dad. But sometimes, you just can't help being drawn to someone, you know? Y/N has this energy, this confidence that's hard to ignore. I guess that's why she has such an effect on people."
Kuroo’s heart skipped a beat, his thoughts immediately transported back to the image of you on the cheerleading squad, your vibrant beauty captivating him like a moth drawn to a flame. He struggled to maintain composure, to hide the flicker of desire that threatened to ignite within him.
"Y/N, huh?" Kuroo replied, feigning casual interest as he tried to quell the rising tide of emotions. "That's nice, Nana. You two have fun."
The afternoon sun cast a warm glow through the windows as you arrived at the Kuroo residence, your presence like a gust of wind that stirred the stagnant air. Kuroo watched from the corner of the room, a mix of curiosity and trepidation coursing through his veins.
You, exuding an air of confidence and allure, walked into the house with a sway in her hips and a smile that could melt hearts. Your eyes locked onto Kuroo, a knowing glimmer dancing within them. The room seemed to come alive, charged with an electrifying energy that crackled between them.
Kuroo’s heart skipped a beat as you approached him, voice dripping with seductive charm. "Hi, Mr. Kuroo. It's so nice to see you again. Nana has told me so much about you."
Kuroo’s pulse quickened, his mind racing to find the right words. "Likewise, Y/N. Nana speaks highly of you. I hope you two have a good time hanging out. She's upstairs showering right now"
You leaned in closer, breath caressing his ear like a whispered temptation. "Oh, we will, Mr. Kuroo. But I have to admit, there's something about you that's caught my attention. You're not like the other dads. You have this air of mystery and allure."
Kuroo’s throat tightened, the weight of desire and responsibility pulling him in opposite directions. He knew he should resist, that giving in to your advances would jeopardize everything he held dear. Yet, the allure of your gaze and the intoxicating chemistry between them threatened to unravel his resolve.
A subtle smile played on your lips as you continued, voice laced with an undercurrent of seduction. "You know, Mr. Kuroo, you have a way of making a girl feel alive. You've got this fire inside you, and I can't help but be drawn to it."
His eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape from the magnetic pull you exerted. His mind churned with conflicting thoughts and emotions, torn between the temptation that stood before him and the consequences he knew would follow.
Summoning his last ounce of willpower, Kuroo straightened his posture and met your gaze with a steely resolve. "Y/N, I appreciate your flattery, but I can't ignore the boundaries that exist. My focus is on being a responsible father and husband."
Your eyes flickered with a mix of disappointment and defiance. You took a step back, your mask of confidence momentarily faltering. "I see. Well, maybe one day you'll realize that life is meant to be lived, to seize the passion and desire that comes our way. Until then, Mr. Kuroo, you'll just have to settle for fantasies."
Kuroo’s heart sank as he watched you retreat to go upstairs, your words echoing in the empty space between them. The temptation had been strong, but he knew deep down that pursuing this forbidden path would only lead to destruction. The dance of desire had been tantalizing, but the cost was too high to bear.
As you left the room, Kuroo was left with a mix of relief and a lingering ache. He had resisted the temptation that had danced before him, choosing instead to honor the commitment he had made to his family. It was a bittersweet victory, a reminder of the fragility of human desires and the strength it took to stay true to oneself.
The night settled over the Kuroo residence like a velvety curtain, casting a hushed stillness upon the house. Kuroo sat alone in his dimly lit study, bathed in the soft glow of his computer screen. The rhythmic tapping of the keyboard filled the room, a solitary symphony in the silent hours.
Lost in his work, Kuroo's mind danced between the lines of code, his thoughts consumed by the demands of his job. It was in this moment of focused concentration that he heard a faint rustle from the staircase, a delicate whisper amidst the silence.
His heart skipped a beat as he looked up, his eyes meeting the form of you descending the stairs. Your presence, like an apparition, sent a shiver down Kuroo's spine. His initial surprise was quickly overshadowed by a rising tide of apprehension. The forbidden allure of the earlier encounter hung heavy in the air.
You approached him with a coy smile, your eyes gleaming with a mix of curiosity and desire. "Couldn't sleep, Mr. Kuroo?"
Kuroo's voice caught in his throat as he struggled to find words. He glanced at the clock, the late hour a reminder of the boundaries that should have kept them apart. "Y/N, it's late. You should go back upstairs."
Your steps were purposeful and deliberate as she closed the distance between them. Your voice, a gentle melody, enveloped him. "I couldn't resist, Mr. Kuroo. There's something about you, something that draws me in. I feel a connection, an electricity that I can't ignore."
Kuroo's heart raced, his resolve waning in the face of your allure. The lines of his own moral code blurred as he wavered between succumbing to the forbidden desires and upholding the values he held dear.
There was a tiny voice in his head that said he should stop before things get too far to the point where you can't control anything. His desires and impulses finally snapped.
Lingering gazes full of longing, wandering hands that find a home on your body, the voice that gives you jolts in your body. You clench your thighs at his voice and touch. The seductive act was sexy, he has to admit, sometimes the forbidden can be the most tempting. 
“Are you finished tempting your friend’s father? Did you have fun? Or do you still wanna keep going’?” he questions, placing one hand on the countertop and the other on his hip. One half of his shirt bends where he’s got the buttons undone, showcasing his chest 
He wants you to admit how much a desperate girl you are. How much of a needy slut you’re being. 
“I haven’t even got you on my cock yet, and you don’t know a damn thing already. Acting like you weren’t behaving like a whore during the whole time you were in my house.” The older man wasn’t wrong at all. 
“How about we skip to the part where you admit you want a man nearly twice your age to fuck you, baby?” he questions, snapping you out of your thoughts. Any second thoughts you had were ready to die like wilted flowers. “I know that cunt is begging to be filled.”
With his words, your walls clenches. Your panties are drenched and have turned into a darker shade at the crotch.
Kuroo stood behind you, though it takes only a few strides for him to reach you. You crane your neck to look up at him, his tall height causing him to tower over you. “What happened to the girl who was so willing earlier?” He ridicules you.
 “Please..I want this.” you quietly murmur, and you watch as his face hardens.
“Oh, now you wanna be my good girl? You’re lucky it's night, your best friend is sound asleep and my wife is at work, sweetie. I would put you over my knee and spank that cute ass of yours ‘till you’re crying,” Kuroo tells you, and you have a feeling he’ll do exactly that any given moment.
You whimper at the thought. Kuroo’s hands look heavy, veiny yet soothing, and he doesn’t seem like a man who takes misbehaviour lightly.
With the little daring personality you had left, you reached up on your toes and grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. Though you started it, he quickly took control. Biting, kissing, he makes out with you in an unforgettable way. A way no man has ever. 
He claims your mouth and his hands do the same to your body. They grip your hips and bring you close to him, his hardened cock rubbing against your ass. Now, it feels as though it’s more intimidating than you expected.
But it makes sense, a man of his size must be large all over. He moves into you, grinding against your body for a moment’s relief.
Eventually, you pull away when the ache between your legs turns unbearable. “N-Need your cock, Mr. Kuroo. I need you in me. T-to feel you” you tell him, reaching down to palm it. Kuroo quickly pulls away before he gently moves you.
You’re bent over one of the countertops with the older man’s hands still on your hips. The cold surface is soothing against your hot skin, but it doesn’t quell the throbbing of your cunt. “So slutty… I’ll fuck you like the whore you are. Don’t worry,” he reassures you, flipping up your skirt.
Your nipples make contact with the marble of his work desk as you pull down the top of your dress. Kuroo lands a spank on your ass, making you let out a loud cry. “Shhh… You gotta be quiet, sweetie. We don’t wanna get caught, right?” he quietly tells you, and you nod your head.
He pulls down your panties and admires the glistening of your cunt. “That’s all for me?” Kuroo questions, pocketing the cloth.
Nodding your head, you whimper and clench around nothing. “Mhm, all for you, Kuroo! No one else,” your voice is more pathetic than it usually is. The confident facade was crushed by this man alone. “Good girl. Call me Tetsurou.” The zipper of his jeans is dragged down, the sound ripping through the air and waking up the butterflies in your stomach. 
“Y’know, I could stretch this pretty cunt out so easily. Gonna let me ruin your little fuckhole? How many little boys have already been in this cause it's clearly never been by a real man.” 
Immediately, you agree, in fact you beg for it. “Mhm—please, Tetsurou? I need you to make me take it,” you tell Kuroo. The way his name rolls off your tongue makes him groan. 
You can feel the heavy tip against your opening, collecting your slick, giving you a teasing slap, and letting it catch. “You better take all of this dick, sweetie.”
With that, he pushes in. The stretch is overbearing as Kuroo pushes his entire cock inside of your wet pussy. He grazes your g-spot and fits snug, right up to your cervix. 
Your hand fists together as you adjust to his massive length and the intense pleasure. Although all you could think about was him, his daughter aka your best friend was just upstairs. The sight of her finding out what her father was doing to her best friend felt wrong but made you even more turned on.
Moans leave your mouth continuously as Kuroo begins to thrusts, growing addicted to the way your cunt clenched around him. “Best pussy I’ve ever had... this can't just be a one time thing.” Insteading of replying all you could do was simply whine. 
He begins to fuck you, pushing in and pulling out of your tightness. His cock shines with your arousal and your noises grow louder. “Good girl—such a good girl for me only. You’re takin’ it like a winner, sweetie,” Kuroo coos, but you’re speechless. 
The sensations that send jolts through your body are ones you know you won’t be able to recreate with anyone else. Each thrust leaves you nearly-trembling, his cock brushing against your g-spot as he kisses your cervix. 
Kuroo’s balls slap against your clit and your body jerks forward as he pounds into you relentlessly. “Feelin’ good, baby?” he questions, leaning over you. His chest presses against your back and his mouth is right by your ear. 
As he thrusts into your pussy, he laughs. The chuckle is low and gravelly, one you’ve heard many times. “Already fucked stupid? How cute. It’s okay, baby. It’s your fault for being a slut and tempting a married man.” Kuroo husks, and his words have you suddenly clenching around him.
He curses at your grip, and does so again when you let out a wail of pleasure. 
Immediately, his large hand comes up to your face and clamps over your mouth, muffling your moans, whimpers, and whines. 
“You dont wanna get caught now do you, princess?” he reminds you. 
“Are you gonna come, baby?” Kuroo questions, noting your little reactions. 
Your cunt squeezing his cock, your pornographic sounds, and so much more. “Yeah? Gonna soak my fat cock already? Go ahead, slut,” he smirks, finishing his sentence with a series of dizzying thrusts. 
Your eyes roll back as you suddenly hit your climax, pussy gushing around your friend’s dad, just like you’ve fantasised about. This whole scenario was straight from a porno. “That’s it, good girl Y/N. Make a mess on this dick, baby. I gotcha,” he soothes, fucking you through your orgasm.
After the shocks travelled through your body, your limbs twitch and shake from the intensity. Kuroo’s hand soaks up each of your pornographic moans while he stretches out your drooling fuckhole. The grip of your pussy is as tight as a fist, and Kuroo knows he won’t last as long as he wants to.
It’s not because he finishes quickly—it’s because you feel so damn good, and he can’t risk getting caught any longer.
Eventually, you ride out your release and Kuroo is determined to swiftly bring you to another orgasm. “You fuckin’ love this, don’t you, baby? Gettin’ fucked by a man twice your age and your size.” The mention of the two differences has you wanting to bite your lip, but you can’t. 
Never in your life have you ever been fucked so good. You nod as best as you can and in return, Kuroo laughs of pride. 
“That’s right, sweetie. Bet I already ruined you for other men, hm? This pussy was made for my cock, so you better not touch it without my permission,” he warns, and you nod your head. Kuroo pulls his hand away, the other one petting the back of your head. “Lemme hear it, baby. Tell me you’ll be his good girl from now on.”
“I– I’m your good girl W– Won’t be bad, promise,” you tell him, trying to keep your voice quiet. But it’s hard when his cock is stroking your walls and bringing you to another orgasm so soon. Your folds are sticky with arousal and so is Kuroo’s sack. It slaps against your clit each time he pushes forwards. He groans, “Good girl.”
Warmth fills you up and spills past his thickness, ropes of cum shooting out of the older man’s sensitive tip. A few seconds later, Kuroo’s cock is coated in your release. 
As you both catch your breath, you shamelessly move your hips. Kuroo curses from the feeling, he sets his left hand on your hip, the other one bracing against the edge of the desk. 
“Still didn’t fuck the brattiness out of you, did I?”
“Nope. But you love it. Don’t you. ?” 
The look on his face and the throbbing of his cock answer for him.
©Minarixx 2023 - please don't copy, repost or translate without my knowledge credit or permission.
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mihawkhugs · 4 months ago
Text
starlight
haikyuu | oikawa x reader | soulmate au
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tw :  mentions of depression, and brief mention of attempts at suicide
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He seemed to be made of starlight, standing out among the throngs of students, the faceless members of society, and the monotony of your daily life. 
Whatever Oikawa Tooru did, wherever he went, he seemed to command attention. He was like the sole candle in a dark room, and the people his willing moths. He seemed to radiate light. He was often accompanied by laughter and giggles, and smiles and grins.. He seemed to be universally admired no matter where he was, and that both terrified and amazed you. 
Yet, as someone who grappled with depression, paced with anxiety, drowned in insecurity, and jested with sorrow like he was an old friend, you couldn't help but notice his eyes. Sometimes, despite being surrounded by his friends and fans, he seemed to be lonely, or like a doll on display, pretty, but devoid of life and love.
In an odd way, Oikawa Tooru reminded you of yourself, of who you were before you sought help, and opened up. 
It didn't mean that you stopped hurting, stopped feeling nothing, stopped counting the seconds that seemed so fleeting, yet eternal. It just meant you hurt a little less sometimes, and that was enough, at least for now. You weren't okay, but that was alright. You were here and alive, and that opened a door of possibilities for you, even if it seemed impossible for now.
You couldn't help but notice how different he seemed around his friends, around his fangirls, and in the court. He was like an enchanted mirror, reflecting what people wished to see. 
Oikawa Tooru seemed to demand attention. On the court, his intensity was unmatched, and he very much felt like a predator, hunting for his meal, desperate to survive. With his fangirls, he seemed so princely, complying to their demands and proclamations of love, his smile a little too perfect, a little too practiced. 
With his friends, he seemed almost at ease, joking around, whining, calling for his "Iwa-chan" as he acted childishly. It was almost cute, you mused, how different he seemed from people to people, group to group. 
But in the end, a reflection and its image only exists in the mirror, and our minds. Reality demands different.
Bleh, how disgusting. 
You first met Oikawa when you were hiding at a remote stairwell in school, experiencing a panic attack. The first day of school for you had been overwhelming to say the least, and being in a new country, with foreign people, did not help. 
He had come across you for god knows what reason, as you cowered in the shadows, breathing uneven, mind screaming, body trembling, feeling terrified, giddy, and like you were about to projectile vomit Picasso style. 
His honey brown eyes and annoying fluffy hair, still echo in your mind. For a moment, he looked oh so kind and real and there, as he knelt down and whispered, almost too quiet to hear, "Are you okay?". 
You had shivered, covering your ears in reflex.
His words seemed to shock you, almost enough to make snap out of your panicked haze, and on your lower back, you could distinctly feel your soul words tingle, and an unfamiliar warmth rushed through you.
As you opened your mouth (to say something to express the please-love-shock-fear), you couldn't help but hesitate, feeling and looking like a drowned rat. He seemed so kind, so perfect, and much too good for you. His kind stare lingered on your body, and for a moment, something seemed to flash across his eyes, a sort of understanding and pity. 
So you didn't speak to him, to Oikawa Tooru, the boy who seemed to be made of star stuff, who felt so far away from you, yet so beautiful and mesmerising. You offered him a wobbly smile, before burying your head in your arms again, trying hold yourself together like it would help and make everything stop, and quiet down. 
He didn't leave. You heard him sit on the steps, a slight distance away from you, and you could distinctly feel his presence. The words on your lower back seemed to shiver in foreign delight.
And he sat there as you refused to look at the world, trying to drown our everything, in the shadows and darkness of the little stairwell. 
Silence had never seemed so loud. 
From then on, you seemed to notice him much more often. He'd smile at you, a little soft and a little sweet, when he passed by you. You'd try and nod your head, in acknowledgement, though sometimes you insecurity made you doubt he was even saying hi to you.
You'd glance behind you sometimes, looking for someone he'd actually acknowledge.
But there were days where you felt numb, and so painfully empty. It was like you were watching the world move behind  a glass box, and you felt so detached, so indifferent, that it scared you at times. 
There were days where you couldn't come to school. The bed too soft and safe, the clock too loud, the sun too bright, and you, too tired, too old, too late. And on those days, or nights, starlight seemed a little less bright, and a little more cold. 
There were days where you forced yourself to go to school, sluggishly dragging yourself through the day, running on future energy, running on desperation. 
Sometimes you'd go to the stairwell, just sitting in the silence, because the darkness just felt so familiar and safe. 
On those days, you'd find a little carton of strawberry milk, or a packet of milk bread sitting on your desk.
You were lactose intolerant, and though you knew you'd regret it, the taste of milk had never felt so comforting. And when you passed by the pretty boy, you'd give him a hesitant smile. 
After all, you'd once caught him putting a packet of milk there. Not that you'd ever tell him, because it would ruin the magic of anonymity (though you appreciated his gesture). 
But you'd see him talking to normal girls, beautiful girls, who seemed so warm and alive, and you'd understand, that the boy who seemed made of starlight, was out of your reach. 
After all, who'd want to be soulmates with you?
It had been a year later, where you found Oikawa, sitting on your spot at the stairwell. He had his head buried in his arms, and appeared to be upset. 
You blinked, hesitating a little, before setting off to the canteen, to buy some milk bread, and a carton of chocolate milk.
On your way back, you bumped into a tall, spiky haired male, who seemed like he could crush you with his bare arms. But, you noted, had kind eyes (of an older brother, of a friend who has known loss).
Sad, a little angry, but very kind. His soulmate would be lucky to have him, you concluded. 
To your surprise, he looked at you amongst everyone, and seemed to see you. He noticed the little bag of goodies you bought, and a smile seemed to tug at his lips, causing you to blink in surprise, before it hit you who he was. 
He passed you, before very gently patting your head, and murmured, "Take care of that idiot okay?".
Before you could answer, the giant beefy men left, leaving you to stare at his back, his volleyball jacket especially noticeable. It was the angry guy Oikawa was always with, the one who made him real, and seemed a little less like the stars. 
You made your way back to Oikawa, hearing whisper along the way, about how they had lost against Shiratorizawa. You hummed a little, accepting the situation as it is, realising that he must really love volleyball a lot. 
You sat on the stairwell, making sure to give him space, as you gently set the plastic bag of goods near his feet. A peace offering of sorts, and an apology. 
To your surprise, as you stood up to leave and give him space, because you had noticed the annoyed glint in his eyes at times, when the girls crowded around him, he lifted his head, looking like a kicked puppy. 
"Stay."
He whispered, tone bordering on begging, sounding like a puppy about to be abandoned by their owner, and your heart went out to the boy who looked so lost, so alone. 
You sat down as he sniffled a little, reaching out to the plastic bag, mindlessly taking a milk bread to eat. He stared down at the snack in surprise, before looking at you, with his observant eyes. 
You contemplated a little in the darkness, musing over your words. You hoped to comfort the boy, just as he had comforted you before. At this moment, he seemed so alone and tired, and a little angry, raging against the heavens. The glint in his eyes seemed so contradictory, and you fought the urge to pat his head, or hug him. 
"Do I look that good?" He smirked a little at you, leaning impossible close as your eyes widened slightly. 
Oh dear, you didn't realise you were staring. 
Unconsciously or consciously, you spoke, voice a little soft, meeting his eyes, You didn't blush, because something about his smile seemed so fake, reminding you of the mask you used to put on, when you tried so hard to be okay. 
When you saw the knowing glint in his eyes however, you couldn't help but feel that he knew. 
"You'll be okay, everything will be fine."
You couldn't help but lean up, and pat his hair, which felt as soft as it looked to your amusement. 
He froze, and for a moment, he looked torn between sorrow, and wonder, and you could have sworn you saw him smile drop into a sad frown, twitching. It was the face that everyone had, whenever tears were trying and failing at being held back at bay. 
He reached out, and hugged you gently, as though he was afraid you'd break, as though he wasn't the one hurting right now. He buried his face in your neck, nuzzling you gently. 
And that became one of many moments, where you were grateful that you didn't choose to end your life, years ago. 
You couldn't help but hug him back, hands patting him automatically, just as you did whenever you comforted your baby brother as he cried. You hummed softly as he trembled slightly in your arms, milk bread laying on the stairs, forgotten. 
You could feel jarringly warm tears dripping on your blouse, but you stayed silent. Years of experience told you that he had been needing a good cry for a long time. And so he did, crying silently, seeming so small despite being being physically bigger than you.
His silent tears tugged at your heartstrings, and you couldn't help but want to help him, feeling your cold, numb self softening just a little, as he reminded you of your younger self - so afraid, so sad, and alone, wanting help but not knowing how to reach out. 
So you stayed at the stairwell, embracing the boy who seemed to be made of starlight, realising that in fact, he was as human as you are, though no less amazing as you had thought him to be. 
And years later, as you woke up, entangled with his warm large body, as the Argentinian sun winked through the blinds at the both of you.
And you realise how fast time flies, and how much more at peace you feel. Because the universe is ever changing, ever moving, and ever healing. And as the boy made of starlight woke up with a groan, nuzzling his head into your neck, whining as his hand traced your lower back lovingly, as he had throughout the years, you couldn't help but feel grateful that you had both chosen each other, and healed, even just a little, together.
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