#kenji futakuchi x reader fluff

[writingsofanomnivore]

Silent Battles- Futakuchi Kenji x Reader

fic exchange with @dira333

this took me a lot of time. i really wanted to write it sooner but school hasn't been very kind to me. and I just got done with a big chunk of exams. I have one on Friday too but anyway-

warnings; none, a bit angst I guess. but it is a happy ending!

words- 1.7k

Futakuchi Kenji was a man known for many things. He was known for being arrogant, provocative, proud, competitive, and an absolute menace to some of his seniors. But there were also things he wasn't known for, like how he secretly wished for his team’s happiness, how he wanted them to shine, how he strived to make his seniors and teammates proud, and how he found joy in seeing them happy and content, watching them become the Great Wall of Dateko. These were things he kept hidden, unnoticed, unheard of—and that’s exactly how he wanted it.

That brings him to his current situation: ignoring his heart and letting Aone and her be. It makes him want to curse whatever cupid is out there for making him fall for her—the girl who is his teammate’s childhood friend. The girl who doesn’t hesitate to snap back at anyone trying to make Aone feel left out. Always bold, witty, and unafraid to banter with him. He knew something was wrong when he caught himself smiling after she rattled him for picking a fight with a poor boy from another school in junior high.

They were always attached at the hip, eating lunch together during breaks, studying in the library, and waiting for each other after their extracurricular activities. Seeing his friend happy made him happy, which is why he decided to ignore all the feelings trying to sprout. He couldn’t take away the only friend Aone had. For all he knew, the two of them might even be in love, just waiting for the other to confess. That’s why he came up with the perfect plan for his last year of high school: to ignore her. How hard could it be? It’s not like she goes out of her way to seek him out. Sure, she brings him sour candies, but she does that for everyone. She may wait for him after practice with a water bottle, but she does that for Aone too. She might help him with assignments he missed while staring at her during class, but again, she does that for everyone. It doesn’t make him special.

So that’s how he ended up here, pretending he didn’t see the outstretched water bottle after practice, pretending he didn’t hear her call out to him after class ended, and then darting out of the room with his bag in hand.

He thought he was being seamless, like a master tailor sewing a patch so perfectly that no one would notice. Little did he know what was brewing in her mind.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Third year had begun, and it couldn’t have gone more haywire. Your growing crush on your best friend’s teammate hadn’t stopped. In fact, it might have doubled or tripled in size if that was even possible. Not having the chance to see him during the summer, being busy with your own classes, you thought this year you’d finally confess. No more making excuses to do things for him under the guise of doing it for Aone or some other friend. You were determined to wear your shiniest armor and finally take action. So why was it that Futakuchi slipped away the moment third year began? He started going to practice early and leaving late, using the excuse of having more responsibility as the great captain of Dateko. This continued for days, weeks—it’s almost been two months. You tried not to let it affect your mood. After all, it’s not like he liked you anyway. To him, you’re just Aone’s childhood friend, and that’s all you’ll ever be.

At home, you might have been able to fake excuses about why you were so down, but the watchful eyes of Takenobu Aone were not so easily deceived. So, on a regular Thursday at school, you were caught off guard when Aone asked why you’d been so sad since the start of the school year.

“Is everything okay? You seem… different lately,” Aone said, his voice low and concerned as you both sat on a bench during lunch break.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” you replied quickly, forcing a smile. “Just stressed about entrance exams.”

Aone’s gaze didn’t waver. “Don’t lie to me. You’re doing well with your exams. There’s something else.”

Caught off guard by his directness, you hesitated. Aone wasn’t one to press, but when he did, it was because he genuinely cared. Sighing, you looked down at your hands, fidgeting with the hem of your skirt.

“It’s just… I don’t know what I did wrong,” you admitted quietly. “Futakuchi, he’s been avoiding me. I thought we were friends, but now it feels like he’s just trying to get away from me.”

Aone’s expression remained the same, his eyes softening. “It’s difficult to know what’s going on with him,” he said, cracking the most comforting smile he could. “Don’t think too much. He’ll come around.”

You wanted to press on—ask him why Futakuchi had changed so suddenly. But just as you opened your mouth, the bell rang, signaling it was time for class. Yet another lecture to be ignored by your crush. Gathering your things, you headed off, waiting for Aone to catch up, only for him to say he needed to get something from the gymnasium. Not wanting to be late, you nodded and left for class.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And just like that, Futakuchi continued his behavior. It’s been two months, and your crestfallen expression makes him want to jump down a well. But then again, he doesn’t know why you want to even speak to him. What could it be about? Some roadblock between you and Aone? How do you expect him to help you with that? That would be the cruelest plan someone could muster. All in all, he didn’t expect to bump into a solid brick wall of six feet as he headed to class. The same brick wall he was just thinking about. What he didn’t expect was for this brick wall to call his name and pull him into a corner. Is he here for the same thing? Does he want help confessing to you? Is this some sick joke God is playing on him?

What he didn’t expect even more was for Aone to stare at him with the coldest glare possible, only to utter your name. “Y/N.”

After a few awkward seconds, waiting for Aone to continue, Kenji added, “Yeah. What about her?” trying to act nonchalant But Aone, though not the most expressive, could surely tell when someone was trying to beat around the bush.

“Why are you avoiding her?” Aone asked, his face as straight as ever.

“I’m not. What are you talking about?” Futakuchi tried his best to sound casual, but Aone just bowed his head slightly and walked away. What a guy. Knowing Aone, he realized he was in trouble now. If he didn’t talk to you, Aone might just stop listening to him during practice. He's had enough experiences to not repeat the same mistake.

After considerable thinking during his lecture, Futakuchi decided to approach you. Maybe he could make an excuse, saying he never saw you. But wasn’t that just manipulation? Throwing that thought, he finally decided to just go ahead and say hi. What could possibly go wrong? you either never speak again or he goes back to being friends with you and see your and aone's friendship blossom into something more. Both are some pains he has to accept.

So, after practice, he found you sitting under the big tree near the school entrance, flipping through a book. Jogging towards you, he took a deep breath before walking over, trying to act as natural as possible.

“Hey,” he said, his voice sounding so nervous he cannot believe himself. the futakuchi kenji, is nervous?

You looked up, surprised to see him after weeks of being ignored. “Hey,” you replied, waiting for him to continue. But, after some seconds when you knew this was not going anywhere, you added " didn't expect you here"

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Futakuchi rubbed the back of his neck, trying to find the right words. “I’ve been… busy, I guess. Captain duties and all that you know.... we've been practicing for the nationals.”

You nodded, something in you wanted to snap at him, taking a deep breath you said “Is that it ?”

Futakuchi winced. He could lie, make up some excuse, but going with his gut he began, “Okay, I have to get this off me,” he could feel his hear rate quicken. “I’ve been avoiding you" your face went blank as if saying really. "But it’s not because of anything you did" he quickly added.

"Then?"

“Because…” He hesitated, it's either now or never, he says in his mind for the hundredth time. This was harder than he thought it would be. “Because I like you, okay? And I thought maybe you and Aone—” He cut himself off, not wanting to finish that thought.

Your eyes widened, processing his words. “You thought Aone and I…?” You couldn't help but laugh.. “Kenji, Aone’s my best friend, practically my brother. I’ve never thought of him that way.”

Futakuchi blinked, like a fish off the water “Wait, really?” Quick, he thinks- time to stop being a loser. the odds may just be in his favour.

“Really,” you confirmed, your cheeks tinting pink. And that was what the sign he needed .

as if in battle, he gathered himself, a different air around him now, but his heart beating as fast as possible, he caught the chance and stood straighter " dd-do-" and he fumbled.

He can happily sink into the ground. but this battle must be fought so again this time-" do you want to go out with me this weekend?"

you could feel your cheeks heat up. But deciding it's too good of a chance to miss- you pulled his hand towards you- standing on your tiptoes- landing a kiss on his cheek which felt so warm- you mumbled a small yes. before you could look up- you were engulfed in a hug. Futakuchi can't let you see the roses blooming on his cheeks just yet. So both of you let out a laugh, standing on the ground as the cold wind blows. But both of you are warm, physically and emotionally.

[cottonlemonade]

Chub Rub

warnings: mdni, suggestive

You drew in a sharp breath when you peeled your jeans shorts off. The day out with your friends in the city had been great and all but you walked so much your shorts had ridden up, causing your skin to rub raw.

You sat on the corner of your bed, gingerly spreading your legs and reaching for the tub of aloe vera jelly to soothe the sting.

“Oh, can I get in on that action?”

You looked up to see your boyfriend leaning in the doorway with his hands in his pockets and a grin across his face.

“What? Why?”

“I dunno, you are on the bed with no pants on. Seems like something I should get involved in. - What are you doing?”

You pointed miserably at the chafed areas on your inner thighs. Your boyfriend winced. “Ouch, looks painful. So you’re putting some cream on there?”

You nodded and stared when he came over, grabbed the tub out of your hand and knelt down between your legs.

“Well, this seems very familiar…”, he mumbled, earning himself a slap on the shoulder but it did make you laugh.

Carefully, he scooped up some of the goopy green jelly and began applying it. The cooling was instant and you let yourself fall back onto the bed, sighing happily.

Once he (very thoroughly) covered everything, he set a kiss on a non-jellied part of your thigh and joined you on your bed.

“What now?”

“Now I have to keep my legs apart until the jelly is gone. - Don’t!”, you said immediately when you saw him take a breath to give some kind of inappropriate retort, “It’s too easy.”

He chuckled and drew you in for a kiss.

Tendou, Kuroo, Futakuchi, Konoha, Noya, Sugawara, Atsumu, Osamu, Mattsun, Iwaizumi, Hoshiumi, Suna, Yaku, your fave

[melovrs]

he isn’t the biggest fan of parties. 

he could think of so many more things he could be doing other than mundanely chatting with acquaintances and friends-of-friends. the loud music and shitty drinks make him want to puke his guts out; being sociable was never one of his strong suits, after all.

yet, just as he’s about to leave, he comes across the girl of his dreams. the girl he had been crushing on for the longest time, the girl in his biology class, sitting on a beat up sofa. 

his friend noticed his lingering gaze on you and interrogates. 

“looks like someone’s caught your eye.”

he turned around, his ears tinged with a blush.

“it’s nothing like that.”

his friend snorted and walked off, presumably to talk to another group of people. with his friend gone, his gaze returned back to you. your face glowed despite the darkness of the room. fluorescent lights danced across the room, and chatter is amongst the crowd, yet all he could focus on was your beauty. 

the thought of leaving the party has been abandoned, not when the girl of his dreams is right before him! he gathered himself up, realizing he was staring at you for far too long; long enough for you to possibly notice him. he turned on his heel and decided to get some water. 

with a bottle of water, he returned to the same spot he was at, looking down at the floor, the ceiling, anywhere but to you. as he was fiddling with his hands, he felt a tap on his shoulder. 

to his utter surprise, it was you, in the flesh. a shy smile was on your lips as you waved at him. 

“hey, you’re in my biology class, right?” 

you started the conversation, noticing how he froze up at your touch. he cleared his throat before responding. 

"um, yeah, i think so." 

he regrets his response immediately. 'i think so?’ what was he on about? he practically noticed you every time he walked into the lecture hall, your face radiant as always. 

you smiled at his response. 

"i was hoping you'd remember, or this would have been weird," you laugh awkwardly. 

the silence between you two was eminent, and he was desperate to break it. before he could speak, though, you started.

"uh- how's the party going for you?" 

he played with the water bottle in his hand. 

"it's alright, i guess. i'm not a fan of parties, my friend just dragged me here, so..." he trailed off. 

you nodded knowingly, agreeing with him. 

"i'm the same as you too, i'm here just because my friend," you point over to the couch, "brought me here." 

you softly laugh and lean closer to his body, your shoulders almost grazing. though the party is as loud as ever, and the lights are blinding, all he could feel was your arm leaning on his, your voice like a melody to his ears. 

maybe he'll start going out to more parties, if it means you'll be there.

(hq) kageyama tobio, akaashi keiji, tsukishima kei, futakuchi kenji, ushijima wakatoshi, (wbk) sakura haruka, takiishi chika, togame jo, (bllk) itoshi rin, (post wc) kunigami rensuke, nagi seishiro, barou shouei

i've never been to a party in my LIFE so this is probably super inaccurate jsjsdjfj pls be nice !! i was listening to cherry wine by grentperez then this idea came to me !! go listen !! (wbk debut YAY !!!)

thank you so much to @littlemissemeritus for beta reading i love u pooks 🥺🥺

[hynko]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ RANDOM HAIKYUU TEXT MESSAGES PT. 3

characters: oikawa, sakusa, hinata, shirabu, nishinoya, atsumu, terushima, futakuchi

contains: profanity, implied cheating

genre: crack

a/n: hey guys i’ve been gone for so long so this is just something i’ve put together for a short time !

m.list | pt.1 | pt. 2

[haikyu-mp4]

Plant lover

word count; 1369 – f!reader, for my idea exchange with @dira333 <3

In some way, you knew what to expect when you joined a male-dominated profession. Naturally, part of you wanted to expect the worst, but you couldn’t give up before even starting! You went into it with high spirits.

During your first week, there were a few incidents of men making rude comments. Whether it was asking if you needed a makeup break or telling you that you should leave certain tasks for the men, you would smile back and leave them be. That’s why you were so surprised when Futakuchi, one of your coworkers, shut them up by snapping back on your behalf.

Futakuchi was sick of it. He didn’t usually get involved in anything that didn’t affect him at the workplace, but he was sick of hearing every single guy bother you for no reason at all. You were more than capable and way more reliable than many of them ever were. So he snapped back, making sure they all reconsidered any other comments they might have made up in their minds.

Before the weekend, Aone sent out a reminder for their ex-Dateko monthly game night. Aone might not be the biggest talker or texter, but he hosted these get-togethers to keep the squad together.

Futakuchi had an idea, and it wasn’t such a bad one this time. Many of the others had brought partners or other friends to some game nights before, so it wouldn’t be a problem, asking you to join. He walked over to you at lunch, tapping the table beside you to get your attention.

“Hey, newbie. Wanna come to game night with some of my friends? You can practice talking back to these guys,” he said, hiding his kind intentions behind that fake motive. You could only nod in agreement.

On Saturday, Futakuchi shook his head as he saw what you carried when meeting him by the entrance to Aone’s apartment building. It was a healthy snake plant, classically known as a plant you don’t need to care much for since you weren’t sure what kind of guys you were meeting.

“That’s just perfect,” he chuckled, and you soon found out why. As the door was opened, you were introduced to the jungle-like apartment and its owner.

“Welcome,” Aone said with the tiniest smile, and your starry eyes moved from the plants in his hallway to him.

“Thank you so much for having me,” you greeted him, smiling at him with wonder.

You even forgot about Futakuchi until he cleared his throat and pointed at the plant you carried. “Where will this fit in?” he asked, somehow managing to tease both you and Aone simultaneously.

“I brought this for you, but it seems I could have chosen something more challenging.” You held out the plant with a soft laugh, and after he took it, you finally shrugged off your jacket to hang it up. “It’s a jungle in here!” you commented as you followed him further into the apartment, and Futakuchi introduced you to the rest in one fell swoop before sitting down haphazardly on the couch.

“Thank you,” Aone said, looking around for a place to put the new plant. “I think I’m out of pots.”

As the evening went on, all the other guys would glance over at the two of you, where you would be talking animatedly about something or the other, like an anecdote related to some plant or something else you happened to remember, and he would nod along patiently.

Now and then, you would move so he could show you some plants in another room, so the squad had no idea when exactly you managed to plan a thrift shop date, but Aone revealed in their group chat on Monday that he would be looking for new plant pots with you.

“Did you always like greenery?” you asked Aone as you navigated through your third thrift shop. He had a tote bag on one shoulder that was awkwardly bumpy with the other pots you had chosen from the previous stops.

“I liked a girl once, and I wanted to impress her,” he told you, and you pretended to look at the opposite shelf, nodding in understanding. “I don’t talk to her anymore, I just started loving the plants.”

You giggled at the picture in your head of Aone slowly giving more attention to his collection rather than that girl. “Evidently, it must be love. Between you and the plants I mean,” you joked, making him smile a bit.

Suddenly, your eyes set on a gorgeous blue pot with intricate flower details on it, and just as you were about to point it out, Aone’s arm shot out to point at the same one.

In your excitement, you rested your hand on his lower arm. “I was looking at that one too! We have to get it.”

And in the implications of how nice it sounded when you said ‘we’, Aone lowered his arm and let your hand slide down into his. Then he used his free hand to pick the pot up and put it in the basket you were carrying before taking the whole basket from you.

You stared at him for a moment, cheeks flushing red in the innocence of his affection before you finally put some energy into your feet and kept going, pointing out more pretty options and blushing every time you had to step closer to him to put them in the basket.

Because you found so many pretty pots, you arranged to meet up at your place another time, and Aone had brought some cuttings and other plant babies that might grow nicely at your place.

The two of you worked on filling your apartment with plants in mostly comfortable silence. He would tell you little facts he knew and you would listen intently.

After washing off your hands and cleaning up the table you had used, you made dinner, and the two of you settled into your sofa to watch reruns of sit-coms all evening.

It was no wonder the two of you were falling, fast.

After you had gone on a couple of more-than-friendly dates, Futakuchi told Aone that you still get comments from your coworkers when he wasn’t around. Aone didn’t even hesitate to utilise some overtime and extend his lunch hour to visit you.

When he stepped inside, his presence spoke for itself as your coworkers’ eyes went to him. He was holding two bentos, one covered in a cute green cover and tied into a knot at the top.

You were kind and soft and Aone loved that about you, so unlike Futakuchi, he didn’t want to encourage you to fight back. He didn’t want you to get in trouble when you were already at a disadvantage.

So he let his eyes fall into a determined glare, making sure most of them noticed him as he finally found you, covered in dirt but with a bright smile as you spotted him. “Takanobu!” you yelled, and that alone made him soften up.

“Hello, I brought you lunch,” he said, handing the bento over.

With hearts in your eyes, you dusted your hands off on the equally dirty pantsuit before taking the bento, eyes tearing up as you looked up at him. “Thank you! I can’t believe you did that, I even forgot my lunch at home.”

Aone bowed, giving you that small smile. “I have a long lunch, we can eat together.”

So you did, and Futakuchi was happy to report that you had been receiving less degrading comments and found the time to bond with some of the few other women in other departments.

Times were looking good, and you had Futakuchi to thank for it. He watched you with a raised eyebrow as you came over one day at work with a cheeky smile. “Congratulations on your new boyfriend,” he cooed.

“Thank you! I was thinking that when we get married…” Futakuchi’s eyes almost bulged out of his eyes at the statement, and you rested a hand on his shoulder. “I want you to be the flower girl.”

At least he knew you were serious about this relationship. His best friend was in safe hands.

masterlist

[sassycheesecake]

The Replier #6

- TŌRU OIKAWA, ATSUMU MIYA, Tetsurō Kuroo, YŪJI TERUSHIMA, Kenji Futakuchi, TAKETORA YAMAMOTO, Suguru Daishō, RINTARŌ SUNA, Kōrai Hoshiumi

[calm-potato]

|HAIKYUU CAPTAINS| //COMPLIMENTS\\

Haikyuu captains,how they react to compliments + short headcannons

Characters: daichi,kuroo, oikawa, bokuto, ushijima,kita, moniwa(former date tech captain), futakuchi, and yuji

Extra: there might be more characters but i tried to add as many captains as i could remember even former captains,might make a part 2 with other characters^^

Daichi sawamura

-surprised but accepts the compliment wholeheartedly

-would be bashful and blush but would play it off like it was no big deal

-very modest about whatever you complimented him on

-the rest of the day he'd think about it and might even smile or smirk a little

-his teammates will ask what happened as they caught him in the act and he'll just brush it off as "something he remembered" but they can clearly see whatever it was had him distracted a bit

-might even catch you the next day having feeling bad and compliment you next with a grin

Kuroo tetsuro

-smirks immediately getting almost big boned about it

-accepts the compliment and throws in a grin complimenting you back

-finds it endearing and can't hide how happy it makes him to hear

-the rest of the day he's hyper at practice,giving a big speech than he usually does and has a big grin that everyone finds kind of distrubing

-his teammates will ask what happened curious,but he shrugs them off,but if they insist he might just brag about it (more specifically to taketora)

-does his best in every game,tho he always did that,he'd get more fired up because of it

Oikawa toru

-despite him being used to the compliments from others,when it's from you,he gets more flutered while trying to compose his usual dramatic self

-would try and play it off as no big deal as well, "well of course you'd think that,i am awesome after all"

-has the widest grin as he flaunts the compliment to iwa who probably most likely wouldn't care and just wants him to get back to practice

-would constantly try and do things to get your attention for more compliments,trying to show off

-would get annoyed when you didn't while also teasing you about the compliment to see if you'd maybe give more or your reactions

Bokuto kotaro

-just like oikawa he'd get flustered and excited,tho it's just a compliment,he'd thrive off of it the rest of the day

-would always try and impress you as well,trying to get your attention like a kid

-"did you see that spike?" "I was awesome right?!" "I'm the best ace,right??right??!"

-honestly it was a little obnoxious but the guy loves compliments especially from you,plus the team was able to win cuz of it so no one really cared much

-would compliment you back and give a hug right after

-would get mad and pout when you complimented one of his teammates but not him

ushijima wakatoshi

-would stare at you for a moment processing your words then simply state "thank you" like it was nothing and walk away

-he doesn't mean to be rude or a bit cold about it,he's just too stunned plus half of his mind is focused on volleyball that he didn't expect a random compliment

-would later try and think of a compliment for you to give

-"your hair...looks nice" something like that or along those lines he would say with like barely a hint of a smile but he'd really mean it!

-wouldn't have thought much of the compliment but if you'd had a smile or some expression he'd think about it the rest of the day while trying to stay focused

kita shinsuke

- would be a bit more surprised,raising an eyebrow,before shifting back to his cool demeanor and nod

-he'd appreciate the compliment while throwing one randomly back without any affect or expression

- simply a "you look quite pretty/good looking today" while he focus back on sipping his water like he said nothing at all, not even giving you a glance

-wouldn't really think about the compliment much but once he told the twins about it atsumu looked at him like he was either stupid or crazy

-"you seriously had no filter?!" -atsumu miya

moniwa kaname(former captain)

-would stare at you for a moment and blush embarrasingly

-would accept the compliment though a bit bashful,probably scratching his head with a "thanks,i didn't think anyone noticed"

-would compliment you back while stumbling over his words

-wouldn't really get distracted unless someone brought it up then he's back to his flustered mess

-would watch you or stare at you without noticing as the compliment replays in his mind but tries to keep focus

-would probably try and be around you more or ask to hang out

futakuchi kenji

-would be stunned to say the least

-probably a little flustered pointing at himself as he can't believe a girl complimented him

-would flirt and compliment you back and once he get a reaction would smirk and walk away

-internally screaming but plays it cool

-might even try and impress you but fails,his teammates laugh at him and he yells at them "don't laugh at your captain!!"

-brushes it off and comes up to you "so,anything you doing tonight?"

-would blush or get flustered if you had seen it and laughed at him

-"h-hey" couldn't help but smile anyways

terushima yuji

-would have been a step ahead and complimented you first,but if you gave him a compliment he'd be star struck and basically already planning your wedding

-would give you more compliments,it might even turn into a war of who can make who flustered the most

-would love teasing you any chance he got

-would even tease his teammates too about getting a compliment

-after his games if you gave him a compliment on his attacks or how well he did he'd become flustered and smile saying "thank you,cutie" and might even ask to go on a date

-if you decline,he'd keep asking days later

A/n- hi i'm back,thanks for reading,i might make more haikyuu hc and other animes^^

[suplicyy]

[Prompt Series pt.6]

Holding hands with Futakuchi

— Summary: Futakuchi holds your hand so you don't get lost in a crowd.

— Fluff

— Gn!Reader

Ever since Futakuchi became the captain of the Date Tech volleyball team, a weight began to fall on his shoulders. Needing to deal with the people on his team (mainly Koganegawa) , create strategies more frequently, and among many other things made him realize that his third-year teammates would be missed.

So as the team manager and Futakuchi's childhood friend, you tried to support him as best you could. You've been keeping to yourself for a while that you're in love with him, and without knowing if he feels the same way, you chose not to confess yet, for fear of losing your long-term friendship with him over feelings you considered "idiots".

Today, Kenji needed to go to a sporting goods store to look for some new knee pads for him and Koganegawa, who somehow managed to tear it, since the new captain doesn't have much confidence in the setter's ability to buy it by himself. And you of course offered to go along, with the excuse that "going out shopping alone is boring", but deep down you just asked to come along so you could be close to him.

The only problem is that you guys left on the weekend, and since the closest sports store was inside a mall, you can imagine how crowded the place was when you arrived. Apparently there was a mega promotion at an electronics store in the mall, and that's why there were more people than usual.

But that didn't stop you from fulfilling your goal, at least not now.

The walk to the sports store was quite peaceful, you were able to easily find the knee pads, and after paying for them you two left the place. But this is where the problem starts.

Somehow, the mall seemed busier than when you entered, getting lost there could be quite easy.

Futakuchi's eyebrows furrowed in discontent, looking at the crowd passing through the mall's corridors. He sighs and he abruptly grabs your hand, with you being pulled away as he starts walking. You blush at the unexpected contact, and try to catch up to the rhythm of his steps.

"W-What are you doing!?" you say, irritated that he pulled you away without warning, but a little embarrassed to be holding hands with him. "Taking us out of here, obviously."

On your way out of the mall, you inevitably bumped into a few people here and there, but it wasn't like it was possible to walk past without bumping into someone either. If Kenji wasn't holding your hand right now, you would have definitely lost track of him.

His hand in yours caused a comforting feeling in you, he wasn't the type of person who liked physical affection, so the fact that he was holding your hand so gently left you a little confused. 'He must only be doing this so I don't get lost in the crowd ...' you thought. You didn't want to get your hopes up for such a simple act, but you still wished that deep down your feelings were reciprocal.

You were so lost in thought that you didn't realize that you had already left the mall until Futakuchi caught your attention with a snap of his fingers.

"Earth calling [Name], do you ever pay attention to where you're going?" "H-Hey, I'm not that absent-minded!" "Oh sure..." he says in an ironic tone.

You glare at each other, but Futakuchi soon laughs at the pout you give, annoyed by his provocation. As he laughed, he unconsciously shook your hand, and with this gesture you realized that you were still holding hands. You feel your cheeks heat up from the physical contact.

He soon notices your embarrassed expression, and when he realizes that he has been holding your hand this whole time, he looks to the side embarrassed with his cheeks dyed pink, but he doesn't make any movement or even show that he wants to let go of your hand.

"I'm going to take you home now, your mother will be worried if you stay out for too long..." you look at him, who is avoiding making eye contact with you. You can't see his face properly because he's looking elsewhere, but from his red ears you can tell he's shy by the situation.

You guys are known for always teasing each other at any opportunity that comes your way, so it would be normal for you to playfully mock him at this point, however all you could think about right now is how cute he looks when he's embarrassed.

You couldn't help but smile at the sight. Maybe your feelings were reciprocated after all.

A/N — I ran out of ideas for this one, but I tried my best to write something good, so I hope you like it!!

— Prompt chosen for this post: Person A and Person B holding hands because there's a crowd but not letting go when they get out of it.

[Prompt Series Masterlist]

[sim-patelle]

Futakuchi actually watches quiz-shows. It's always fun seeing him getting annoyed at the answers of the candidates if it's wrong. It's not like his answers are always right, but it's just amusing to see him as he mumbles his thinking out loud.

[wttcsms]

listen what about the good girl's boy best friend futakuchi ORRRR the police officer x DA with daichi. is daichi underrated enough. please pick one that is worthy and YOU decide whether it should be nsfw or not. i trust you with these

everything's blurry but you, kenji futakuchi;

pairing kenji futakuchi x f!reader word count 3.5k synopsis barely in your baby twenties, and you think life is so over for you. then, while at rock bottom, you run into futakuchi, and realize that 1) he's kinda pathetic, and 2) someone else's pathetic-ness totally distracts you from your own. so, guess you two are in it together. content contains drinking, bar setting (physical location, this fic does not set the bar for anything, don't get it twisted) prompt instead of the good girl x mysterious bad boy, it’s the good girl’s boy best friend (who’s been hopelessly in love with her for a while) x the new girl in town who’s her complete opposite

Kenji Futakuchi strategically chooses a Friday to confess to his first love — that he naively thinks will be his only love, that he naively believes his feelings are love — because it’s basically the end of the week. 

Can’t do it on a Monday; when he faces the inevitable rejection, he’ll have to sludge through the workweek feeling like the world’s biggest loser. Wednesday doesn’t work since it’s that odd day in the middle of the week where nothing important is supposed to happen; might as well not try to mix up the monotony. Friday is good because when she breaks his heart, he’ll have tonight and Saturday night to drown his sorrows in cheap liquor, and he still has Sunday to rest up and actually get over it. 

The confession goes as expected — despite his sweaty palms, rapid heartbeat, and the voice in the back of his head asking him are we sure we want to go through with this?, Kenji straightens his back and boldly confesses that he’s had feelings for her since high school. He’s met with her wide-eyed expression, a rosy blush creeping upon the apple of her porcelain cheeks, and she looks down at her shoes, too shy to face her best friend since childhood, too shocked about his crush as if it wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world. 

He already went in knowing that he was going to walk out a loser. It’s a bad mentality to have before entering a game, but he would never cheapen his feelings to the point of treating them like they’re just a part of some silly game. His heart thumping against his ribcage, the tiny adrenaline rush coursing through his veins when he finally decided to just be a man and at least make an attempt to get the girl — all of this is proof that this is real. Not a game. And yet—

“I’m so sorry, Kenny.” He would never allow anyone else to call him by that nickname; this is a privilege reserved only for her. It used to feel like an inside joke between them, but he finds himself shrinking back from her, and now the joke’s flying over his head. He’s on the outside looking in. This is not real, he decides. The humiliating “we can still be friends” conversation is happening to someone who only looks like him, he decides. His sudden desire to get shitfaced at the nearest bar has nothing to do with this awkward, embarrassing situation that is not happening to him, he decides. 

She looks like she’s near tears, and she’s such a sweetheart, that he knows that this is somehow harder for her than it is for him. The urge to console her is overwhelming, but then she speaks. 

“We’re—” She pauses slightly; she’s careful with her words, always cautious. Kenji starts spiraling, trying desperately to fill in the blanks when he sees her lips start to form that dreaded word, the F-Bomb that will surely impact his ego and blow it up, forcing him to leave it tattered on the sidewalk of her neighborhood. “—friends.” 

She says it with such finality, it’s almost like a fucking death sentence. He’s in a courtroom, and she’s the judge telling him that he’s never going to see the sun ever again. 

He makes his way to the bar in a daze, muttering to himself, playing a game. He wonders what she was going to say to fill the silence. We’re — just, only, always going to be, better off as — friends. Whatever he chooses, he’s screwed.  

“Fuck,” he groans, wanting to bury his face in his hands. The alcohol hasn’t quite hit his system yet; he knows so, because he’s still capable of rational thought. He should stop now, go home, take a shower, and hide under the covers, dead to the world until Sunday afternoon, which is when he has his upcoming game. 

“Are you done?” An annoyed voice causes him to look up. 

“What?” 

“I said, are you done? You’ve been talking to yourself for the past thirty minutes, and it’s starting to piss me off.” 

When Kenji is with her, he tries to be a better person. He knows that during their high school days, he had a tendency to pick fights, antagonize others, take delight in besting an opponent. All that holding back only resulted in him being ditched for some mysterious rich guy who drives a sleek black car with tinted windows. Maybe it’s the alcohol finally hitting, but he makes the decision to just be himself. It’s not like he gives a shit on how you’ll feel about his attitude. 

“There are plenty of other seats in this bar. Go sit somewhere else if I’m bothering you that much.” He scoffs. You narrow your eyes.

“I was here first. You should move.”

You turn your body to face him, taking in the strange man sitting one barstool away from you. He also fully turns his body so he can face you, almost childishly mimicking your movements, except he’s got one elbow resting on the sticky countertop. He looks like he wants to pick a fight with you, his brown eyes narrowed, lips curled in a scowl. The jetlag, the bartender mixing up your drink order, the lack of sleep, the awful professors in grad school, the date your parents are forcing you to go on — all of it has been packed neatly and tightly into your nervous system, compartmentalized, and promptly stowed away. 

You can feel all your built-up irritation clawing its way out of your skin. Normally, you would just roll your eyes, take your purse, and leave. Normally, you wouldn’t have even said anything. It’s not like he was even talking all that loud. Normally, you would just mind your own business. 

Then again, thinking too much about your own life is the reason why you’re spiraling, heading straight to rock bottom, no Google Maps needed for you to find your way there. Maybe it’s just better for you to pour all your attention onto this man. 

“I’ve been living in this town since I was born, and I’ve never seen you here before.” He gives you a dramatic, childish, once-over. You’re wearing slacks, pointy-toed high heels, a fucking blazer. He snorts, then thinks about her ballet flats that she favors, her fluffy sweaters, her frilly skirts. Wanting to rid himself of all conscious memory of her, he pours himself another shot, downs it like water, and works on committing your serious image to memory. He takes in your disgusted expression. 

Better, he decides. He’s not thinking about his little heartbreaker. 

“Oh, I didn’t know I was meeting with the fucking mayor.” You give him a once-over as well. He can’t remember the last time he’s been scrutinized so coldly. It’s a feeling he isn’t used to, especially now that he’s a young adult and the volleyball games he plays now don’t feel so high-stakes. You’re sizing him up like he’s an opponent. He wants to tell you that he doesn’t fight women, but he’s petty enough and drunk enough to want to push your buttons — all four of them, really, when he takes in the golden buttons of your blazer, each one of them engraved with some designer logo he certainly can’t afford. “Have you ever considered that not everyone spends their free time getting sloppy drunk? Some of us have jobs.” 

“Oh, yeah? What’s a job?” He asks, blinking owlishly at you. “I don’t know what that is since I’m such a simpleton. Maybe you can go call a cab and get it to take you to your job, and let me know what it’s like. I’ll still be here when you get back.” 

Maybe in a different life, in a different situation, when you’re in a different mood, this stranger would be funny. Maybe in better lighting, he’d even be cute. 

“I said some of us have jobs. Never said I was included in that group.” The words taste bitter, and you know it’s not because of the drinks you’ve had. 

His expression softens a bit. As a child, Kenji used to poke anthills with a stick, toying with the little guys just because it seemed funny to his boyish brain at the time. Despite this, he’s not the type to kick someone when they’re down, even if you’re rude and have bad manners. 

Silence. 

This one, he doesn’t bother trying to fill. 

He watches you pour yourself a shot, and he copies you. You don’t notice, but then you’re pouring up a second, then a third, and he can’t help it; he follows along. You catch him doing it out of the corner of your eye, and suddenly, a stroke of competitiveness that hasn’t afflicted either of you since adolescence is now invigorating the both of you. He matches you, shot for shot, and oh — he is definitely going to regret this. He might actually regret this by the time Sunday rolls around. 

Noticing his hesitation and the near-empty bottle, you drunkenly call for his attention.

“Hey—” You bring your bottle to your lips, downing the rest of the contents, giving him a self-satisfied smile. When you wake up with a raging headache, hunched over the toilet, and having to show up to your blind date with sunglasses to hide your ragged state, you will regret this. Right now, you’ll take any small win you can get. 

His cheeks are flushed, his reaction time slower as it takes him a few seconds to process what he just witnessed. 

“You’re insane.” He mumbles, fumbling for his own bottle, and missing it by quite a margin. 

“Don’t bother. I beat you, I drank it faster, and I’m holding my liquor way better.” Your words are slurred, there is way too much alcohol sloshing in your otherwise empty stomach, and the fact that you can’t tell you sound totally drunk (and neither can he) is a dead giveaway that both of you need to get your stomachs pumped and hooked up to an IV, stat. 

“Liar. Look at the way you’re struggling to sit in your seat.” He’s not doing so hot himself. The only reason he’s not swaying like you is because he’s leaning against the bar counter for support. That, and he thinks any sudden movement might cause his brain to shut down.

“I’m fine.” You insist, and you look like you’re going to try to prove just how fine you are, until your phone lights up. Your almost carefree expression suddenly hardens. You decline the call, but even drunk, Kenji can feel the shift in atmosphere, the change in your demeanor. 

“You sure?” He asks. 

“Absolutely.” You reply back, with none of the conviction you’ve previously been serving up on a platter for him. He almost misses how annoying you are; the mopey version of you is no fun. 

(That, and as much as Kenji Futakuchi spends time insisting that it’s not true, his insides are just as soft as everybody else’s. If only he was an asshole. He could be stumbling back home right now.)

“Whatever’s bothering you, I’m pretty sure I have it rougher. So, don’t go throwing yourself an undeserved pity party.” 

“I highly doubt that.” At least you don’t sound so resigned when you say it. “And I’m not throwing a pity party.” Pity is for losers. 

“Oh, yeah?” He takes the bait you set out — another competition. “What’s the matter with you?” 

“My professor stole my paper and took credit for all my work, for starters.” You don’t know why you tell him this; probably because he’s the farthest thing from an academic, and unlike your classmates that you mistakenly considered friends, at least he’s not going to shun you — or, even worse — take your professor’s side. 

“Boring.” He fakes a yawn. “You downed a bottle of tequila because of that?”

You frown. “Well, what’s your deal? It better be something major.”

“Soul crushing.” He tells you, and he means it. You’re a stranger. He’ll probably never run into you ever again. His friends will never let him hear the end of it if he tells them the truth, or even worse, they’ll pity him. He decides to let you in on the secret. “I confessed to the girl I’ve been in love with since childhood.” 

You’re silent for a second, then, you toss your head back and laugh. His embarrassment quickly gets replaced with indignation. 

“What’s so funny?” 

You wipe a tear from your cheek. “Oh, nothing. That’s just the funniest thing I’ve ever heard, given the circumstances. Tell me the truth: why are you really here?” 

He blinks. “I told you the truth.”

He waits impatiently for your laughter to die down. 

“That’s your soul crushing news?” You ask him, clutching your stomach, grinning at him. You haven’t had a good laugh in weeks. You were almost scared that you had forgotten how to. 

“She’s a nice girl.” He resists the sudden childish urge to stick out his tongue and blow a raspberry. “Nicer than you.” 

“If she’s so nice, then why are you drinking alone at a bar and acting like the world is ending instead of being with her?” You point out. 

“How would you reject a guy who confesses to you?”

You don’t mention that you’ve never been confessed to. Instead, you pretend to ponder it for all of two seconds, before saying, “I’d tell him the truth.” 

“The truth?”

“If I like him, then I’ll admit to returning his feelings. If I don’t like him, I’ll tell him that.” You shrug. “Simple.” 

“So heartless.” He scoffs. “You won’t even tell him that you two can still be friends?” 

“Do you think people can still be friends after all that? Like, things will just be the same as always between you two?” You don’t sound mean when you ask him this; just genuinely curious. 

He tries to turn the attention back to you. “What if you two aren’t friends, then?” 

“Why bother telling him that we can still be friends?”

“It’s polite.”

“It’s cruel. No one really means it when they say they can still be friends. People only say that because they think it softens the blow.” You lean your body forward, palms resting on the bar stool that separates you two. You’re surprisingly steady as you tell him, “Reciprocation is true kindness.” 

Your eyes seem to sparkle under the warm lighting of the bar. He wants to blame this realization on the alcohol, but this is somehow the clearest his consciousness has been in a minute. 

“What do you mean by that?”

“If someone reveals their true feelings, you should respect them by revealing your own. I hope she told you how she really felt.” 

We’re friends. We’re friends. We’re—

a pause, hesitation, reluctance

—friends. 

He licks his lips. His mouth suddenly feels dry. He’s aware of you staring at him, but you’re so drunk, you probably don’t realize the intensity of your gaze. 

“She told me we’re friends.”

“And?” You press him for more information.

“That’s it.” He runs a shaky hand through his hair. “What does that mean?”

You make a face. 

“It means you’re totally fucked. Sorry.” 

He groans. “What do you know anyway? You’re just another bum in this bar.” 

“A bum in this bar who can outdrink you, and my problems are actually major.” 

“So, what? Call him out for plagiarism. Easy fix.” 

“Easy fix, my ass.” You grumble. “You wouldn’t get it.” 

“Not even going to ask you to elaborate.” Then, “Got any other complicated problems my tiny brain can’t understand?” 

“I’m totally fucked, too.” You admit. “Except mine is out of my control, and your pathetic situation was easily avoidable.” 

“How was my situation ‘easily avoidable’?” 

“Well, live a lie and don’t confess. Or, maybe just don’t like her?” 

Kenji has never met someone so interesting. Usually, when people spout out bullshit and other complete nonsense, they do it with false bravado and counterfeit confidence. You sound like you genuinely believe in what you’re saying — as if feelings are just something you can flip on and off, like a switch, like a choice. 

“Those are your solutions?” 

You nod. He can’t even find it in himself to shake his head. He’s now oddly fascinated in what could possibly be going on in your life if you’re handling your shit with such emotionless, cold decision making. 

“So, what about your other problems?” 

“The whole point of being here is so I can forget about them.” When he doesn’t say anything else, you sigh. No point in acting like it’s not going to happen. “My parents sent me out here because I’m going on a date. Some businessman I  went to high school with. They’re hoping we get engaged soon.” 

“What’s so problematic about that?” 

“Apparently he’s in love with some random girl.” 

“So you don’t want to fight for his attention?” 

“I don’t want him at all. My parents keep pushing for this, though, and since I dropped out because of the whole plagiarism thing, I don’t—” You pause. Even if he is just a stranger, airing out all your business in this dingy bar is a tad bit too pathetic for your liking. “It’s whatever.” 

He bites his tongue, resisting the urge to point out that it sure doesn’t sound like whatever. 

“I should go. Thanks for… this.” You wave your hand in the air, unsure of what to call this situation. Your moves are a bit clumsier than usual, and the heel of your shoe catches onto the legs of the stool as you’re getting up, and you can see it all happen in slow motion. You can feel the pull of gravity dragging you down, and you think for a split second that maybe banging your head on this dirty floor might actually be worth it. Maybe you’ll get amnesia and forget how shitty everything is. Maybe you’ll fall into a coma, be basically dead to the world. Maybe you’ll actually be buried six feet under. 

Kenji’s reflexes are still quick. He jumps up from his chair, and your body crashes against his. He got up way too fast, and now his head is kind of spinning. The room is spinning. He hears a faint ringing in his ears, and he blinks hard, trying to focus. Everything is blurry. 

He looks down, and you’re peering up at him, staring at him curiously. Everything is blurry but you. In fact, he could probably count your individual lashes with the way he’s hyper focused on you.  

“You can let me go now.” You murmur, and he clears his throat awkwardly, instantly removing his hold on you. He’s thankful for the shots he took because he can at least blame the scarlet flush on the alcohol instead of the embarrassment. 

“Did you call a cab?” He asks, noticing how dark it’s gotten outside. 

“I was just going to walk back. Try to sober up.” 

Sober seems like a hefty goal at the moment. “Don’t be stupid. Get a cab.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” You huff.

“Let me walk you home, then.” 

“I’m drunk, but I’m not dumb enough to let a strange man know where I’m staying.” 

“It’s dark, and like you said, you’re drunk. At least call that guy you’re going on a date with.” 

You frown, refusing to look at him. “We don’t have that kind of relationship.”

“But you’re planning on being engaged to him?” 

“Like I said, we don’t have that kind of relationship.” 

In the end, you know that this stranger is right. You’re not sure which cab services are still running at this hour, and you know no one else in this town. You dial Kato’s number, pleasantly surprised that he manages to pick up on the third ring. 

“I’m drunk. I’m going to text you my location. Please pick me up.” You ignore a greeting altogether, and before he can give an excuse on why he can’t come, you add, “There’s a strange man here, and I don’t want to be alone with him.” The stranger makes a face, and you mouth out a sorry. 

Kato sighs over the line. “Give me the address, and I’ll be there shortly.”

“Thanks, Kato.” He hangs up before you’re even done speaking. 

You expect the stranger to make a teasing remark, probably boast about how he knows everything and be pleased with how you did what he asked, but he looks confused.

“Kato?” He repeats.

“Yes, that’s his name.”

“Daisuke Kato?” He presses you, and you nod. 

Maybe your paths will cross again, he decides. He can’t tell if this is a good or a bad thing, especially since Daisuke Kato is the name of the man who Kenji’s best friend has fallen in love with.

[liillyliilly]

The Cactus Project

futakuchi kenji x reader words; 2059 synopsis; Futakuchi never expected to become so oddly attached to a plant. Or the person caring for it.

Futakuchi doesn’t know what had compelled him to start teasing Y/n. Maybe it was that she always seems so put together and he liked to get a reaction out of her. Maybe it was because she also ate the same brand of sour gummies that he liked so much. Or maybe it was because they had been assigned as partners to take care of a small potted cactus for science class.

“Aren’t cactuses meant to be the most self-sufficient plant though.” He said, poking at one of the sharp spines before accidentally pricking his finger. Stuffing his finger in his mouth he looked over to Y/n who was taking notes on the appearance of the cactus.

She reaches into her bag and pulls out a My Neighbor Totoro bandaid, sliding it over to him silently.

“Cacti can be very self-sufficient but, without the proper guidance then they fail to stay strong.” Y/n explained, finishing her diagram of the green plant. She slid her notebook across the table for Futakuchi to look at. He wraps the bandaid onto his finger. “It’s kind of like how in volleyball, when you guys don’t practice jumping or something then your skills start to decrease. Does that make sense?” She waved her pencil around trying to compare his interests to the project. He thought it was pretty silly of her to do that, but didn’t know why he enjoyed that she knew he played volleyball.

“Anyway, how do you want to split custody?”

“Custody?” Futakuchi repeated.

“Yeah, custody of Emerson.”

“Emerson?” Futakuchi was starting to feel like a parrot.

Y/n covered her face with her hands and mumbled something. But Futakuchi didn’t understand.

“What was that?” He tugged on her hands, and was surprised at how soft they were compared to his own. When he had finished moving her hands, Futakuchi didn’t know what to do with his own. Getting stunned with the feeling of her skin against his. So, he settled for toying around the ceramic vase that the cactus resided in.

“Emerson is the cactus. I named it, okay?” She shrugged and smiled before getting a black sharpie out and writing ‘Emerson’ on the ceramic pot. “All things deserve a name. Even cacti.” As she finished her statement, she looked back to Futakuchi with big eyes and an earnest side smile.

Her handwriting was clean, crisp even. Futakuchi wanted her to write all his notes for all his class. He wanted her to write her name with his last name. He wondered what his name with her last name would look like for a moment. Pushing those thoughts aside, he tried to start some banter up instead of diving too deep into his potential legal paperwork for name changes.

“How did your parents raise you; I mean do you go around naming the pieces of grass in the fields as well?”

Y/n rolled her eyes, and shook her head at him slightly. When the bell rang, she slid on her backpack and started heading out the door, before turning her head to look at Futakuchi. “I’ll pick up Emerson after school, before you have to go to volleyball. Thanks!” She waved to him before exiting the room. Leaving Futakuchi to rapidly pack up his own stuff, and carry the cactus with him to Modern Japanese. When he sat down, he could feel Aone staring at the plant sitting on the corner of Futakuchi’s desk.

“Science project.” Futakuchi explained. When Aone pointed at the writing, Futakuchi let out an ‘oh’, as a small smile grew on his face. Until he was trying to force the smile back into his body to avoid it from taking over his entire face.

“My partner is a dork. She named the cactus.” Even though Aone doesn’t have eyebrows, he still managed to raise them while tilting his head to the cactus.

“Why’d I let her name it? Well, she, she didn’t give me time to stop her from writing it.” Aone knew that was a lie, Futakuchi could have easily stopped her. Futakuchi didn’t want to stop her, mainly because she seemed to really enjoy carefully writing the letters on the pot.

When the guy who sat in front of Futakuchi swung his bag around his desk, and almost hit Emerson, Futakuchi had to be restrained by Aone. "Bastard can't even look where he's flinging his stuff. Bro! I have a cactus here man! Pay attention to your surroundings!"

Aone stifled a laugh, pushing Futakuchi's shoulder down so he would finally sit down and stop barking at the nonchalant kid.

"I am being calm. This could've been a disaster of the largest proportion Aone."

A shake of the head, and one spitwad later to the student in front of Futakuchi, and the cactus was wrapped in his gym jacket, sitting in his lap.

It was a week later when Futakuchi had begun tapping his foot rapidly against the steps of the entrance to the gym. Looking at the time on his phone for the seventh time in a row. Why was Y/n not here yet? She was usually early to pick up Emerson. He reasoned that it was Friday, so maybe she was making plans with someone. His expression turned just as sour as the candies he was chewing, the thought of her spending time with any of the boys at their school seemed unnatural.

He could only picture her in three scenarios. Her in class with him. Her with Emerson in class. Her with both Emerson and him.

This cactus baby was becoming too real for him. He might actually end up asking her to marry him, and then adopting this cactus as a dependent on his tax forms.

When she finally came into view, Futakuchi eased up so much he almost dropped Emerson. Her hair was a mess, sticking out in odd directions. It reminded him of a bird’s nest.

“What’s with the new hairstyle? Trying to impress me?” Futakuchi taunted.

“I think it rather fits me.” Y/n smiled as she took Emerson into her own grasp. “How’s my little baby doing?” Y/n inspected the spines of the plant, before scrutinizing the dirt. When she realized that the soil wasn’t damp, she clicked her tongue and walked into the gym.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Futakuchi trailed after her.

“Emerson needs water. The gym has sinks in the bathroom. Geez, put two and two together.” She said as if it was the clearest thing in the entire world.

“Wait-don’t go...” Futakuchi closed his eyes, folded his arms, and let out a deep sigh.

The entire Date Tech team was in the bathroom, decorating it for a birthday celebration.

“What is going on here?” Y/n asked. Y/n pulled Emerson closer to her, as she backed up slowly. Accidently bumping into Futakuchi with her back.

“A birthday party?” Koganegawa gives two thumbs up in Y/n’s direction. Aone scratches the back of his head as he holds a bag with colorful streamers at his side.

“For who?”

“For Sakunami!” Koganegawa exclaims.

Futakuchi cringes. What if she thinks we’re weird for decorating the bathroom? What if she thinks I'm weird for allowing them to decorate the bathroom? What if she is going to laugh at us? And, why is she still standing so close to me?

Needless to say, he is very surprised at her next words.

“Can I help?”

As it turns out, Y/n has a pretty good sense for decorating. She was able to help hang the banner, with the help of Aone lifting her up so she could reach the ceiling. She helped Koganegawa put streamers on the toilet stalls. And she was able to water Emerson’s soil. When she took a step back and stood in the entrance of the bathroom, she dusted her hands off by rubbing them together.

“It looks like a solidly decorated birthday party. Good job boys! But, I gotta go. See you on Monday, Futakuchi.”

Aone puts a hand on Futakuchi’s shoulder. Aone nudged his head in Y/n’s direction as she started to leave the gym. “I can’t ask her to stay Aone. She wouldn’t care. C’mon, let’s get going. Sakunami should be here any second.”

Ever since Y/n pitched in to help with the birthday party, Futakuchi didn’t know how to interact with her. He fumbled and guarded himself. Putting up an iron wall of his own to shield himself from her growing too much onto him. He really wanted to keep being his normal self around her, but she made it really difficult. Seeing as she was almost too perfectly an equal to him. She matched him in everything he did, whether it was jokes or just being way too easy to talk too.

“Hey, Futakuchi, I have a really big favor to ask you.” Y/n clasped her hands together as she rested her elbows on the table, looking intently at him.

“Yeah?”

“Can you have Emerson for tonight? I won’t be home to make sure that they are safe from the sun in my window sill.”

“Sure.”

“Thanks so much, I owe you one.” Y/n leaned back into her chair as she went back to writing her notes down as she studied Emerson.

Futakuchi would have liked to ask what she was doing to not be able to watch Emerson. But he settled for watching her hand move as she wrote down her notes. And for a while, he was glad that he was able to do the cactus project with Y/n. It made him feel secure.

A few days later, Y/n said that she had an extra examination she wanted take for extra credit, and that she would be able to pick up Emerson after his volleyball practice.

"Keep him safe okay?" She threw up a peace sign before going back to the main school building for her extra credit.

Where to set Emerson down while he was at practice was becoming a puzzle that he had no clue of how to solve. But everyone on the team kept nagging him about starting practice so he set Emerson down on the bench at the very corner of the gym.

It was a horrible decision, really. It was a spike gone wrong. A mistake in the angling. A glitch in the matrix. It was a stab to the heart.

When he heard the ceramic shatter, Futakuchi thought that he would also end up shattering as well. Hovering over the broken pot, there was dirt all over the gym floor, and Emerson broken into a hundred sharp pieces. He knelt down and grabbed a handful of dirt and just stared at the mess. When Koganegawa tried to help by getting out a broom, Futakuchi snapped at him and told everyone to go home. That practice was over today due to highly unfortunate circumstances.

He didn’t even notice when Y/n had entered the gym.

“That's unfortunate.” Y/n sat down next to him crossing her legs and setting her hands on her knees.

“I bet you hate me.”

“You would lose that bet.” Y/n gripped his wrist and made him dump the dirt back onto the pile. Dusting his hand off slightly, she slipped her fingers in-between his. There sat two teenagers, holding hands and staring at a pile of dirt and debris. “I guess we are just going to have to spend some extra time together to make up the project.”

Futakuchi didn’t know why she was being so nice about this. He had ruined the project they had been working on for over three weeks. When she stood up and pulled him with her, she brushed her hand against his cheek to remove some soil that had gotten on his face.

“You have to name the next cactus.” When she started laughing, her shoulders shaking and smile wider than the gap of space between the two, Futakuchi came up with one of his normal comments.

“It’ll be a much better name than Emerson when I come up with one.”

“I have no doubts about that.”

Even though they had to re-do the project. And even though it was difficult. Even plants can grow in seemingly barren habitats. Just like how love can grow from a cactus project.

[cottonlemonade]

Before he ever even brought it up to you, your boyfriend prepared little stacks of paperwork (neatly stapled) that detail ✨ the health benefits of period sex ✨.

He has multiple copies of his extensive research (a 3h Google deep dive) stashed all throughout the apartment so that once the moment arises he can just open a drawer and start making his case. It has diagrams and everything.

So when one day you’re standing in the kitchen, hunched over because of the cramps and he comes up behind you and starts rubbing your aching chubby tummy, he puts his chin on your shoulder and casually mentions that he somewhere read about a way to relief the pain. You’re so desperate at this point that you ask what it would be, not remembering who you’re talking to, and thus thinking it would be some kind of home remedy.

And he goes “I’m glad you asked.”, then with a flourish opens the cutlery drawer and pulls out his research from underneath that inlay that keeps your knives and forks separate and begins to read. And you agree. Cause it had diagrams and everything.

Tendou, Kuroo, Makki, Mattsun, Futakuchi, Atsumu, Osamu, Suna, Konoha, Noya, Oikawa, your fave

[mrs-kodzuken]

Forever Mine ♡

Pairing: Aged up!Kenji Futakuchi x fem!reader

WC: 1.3k

Genre: fluff, marriage au

CW: fem!reader, implied short!reader, marriage au, fluff, slight overbearing mother?, mentions of food repeatedly, mention of no father, platonic boob holding

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

"Girl, hush, you had a granola bar this morning; you'll be fine!" I heard my mom scold me.

I just stared at her, feeling my stomach growl. "But that doesn't calm my stomach," I pointed out.

Ever since I was little, I have always been a person who could put away a lot of food. And I was getting married to my fiancé in a couple of hours. Which unfortunately meant that in order to not be bloated in my wedding dress, I couldn't eat right this second.

She glared and said, "Calm down. You'll get food when you're done." She spoke, fixing my hair in the mirror.

The idea of food never left my thoughts or stomach.

I could really go for some pizza right now. Maybe I could call the pizza place really quickly without my mom knowing? That is, if I'm ever out of her line of sight.

"I can't believe that you're getting married. It just seems as if I was changing your diapers." My mom wiped away a small tear. She had suddenly got super emotional.

"Mom, you said you weren't going to cry till after the ceremony." I laughed lightly.

"But seriously, I don't like seeing you cry." I gave her a small hug, making sure not to mess up my hair.

"Oh, are the bridesmaids almost done? I want to see how they look." I pulled away from the hug and entered the room connected to mine.

"Good god, you all look wonderful!" I astonishingly said to all of them.

Suddenly, a herd of women surrounded me. And of course, with my short height, I was hardly able to get out of their grasp.

"Do you need help with your makeup? I'll do it for you." I looked at my friend, whom I asked to be a bridesmaid.

"Ah, thank you," I thanked her whilst I grabbing the makeup box.

After about an hour, we all had done almost all of each other's makeup and because I needed something to take my mind off of hunger.

"Is everything ready?"

"Yes, dear. Now all you have to do is walk your fine ass down the aisle and become a Futakuchi." My soon to be husband said through the door.

I have been talking to my fiancé for about ten minutes now. I wouldn't let him see me till I was walking down the aisle, I didn't want any bad luck on our special day.

However, my smile was quickly replaced by a groan of hunger.

"Babe? Are you alright?" I heard him through the door. He couldn't open it obviously, but I could tell he definitely wanted to.

"I'm fine, just hungry." I lightly laughed. If I didn't get food in me quick, I was sure I was going to die.

Hearing no response from Kenji at the door, I furrowed my brows. Getting on my knees, I bent down to see if his shoes were still there from under the door.

Which they weren't, by the way.

Suddenly, a loud gasp made me look up. I saw my mom there, looking as if she was about to scold me for being on the floor.

I silently told Kenji I loved him as I received an earful from the woman who raised me all my life.

"Ah, yes, thank you for that," I awkwardly said to my mother. She sighed and shooed me away, saying something like I should already be in my dress and shoes.

Sorry mom, but I was more worried about my future husband than a dress and heels, even if they were gorgeous.

A loud knock sounded throughout the room. The bridesmaids had pulled me into their room as if sensing Kenji was outside that door.

I pressed my ear against the mahogany door while listening. Although, it seemed to be that I was hearing for exactly nothing.

"(Y/n)? You can come out now." I finally heard someone speak, kind of sounding like my mom.

Once my mom said that, I rushed out to see if anything was wrong.

I noticed a pizza box in her hands, she handed it to me.

"Did Kenji get this?" I asked hesitantly, a smile coming upon my cherry-colored lips.

"Yeah, you said you were hungry, so I went and got you my favorite pizza. Enjoy babe." I heard a kissy sound from him through the door, and his foot steps trailed away.

Dear God, I love that man. Which is exactly why I'm going to marry him.

I set the pizza box down and quickly indulged in it, not really caring if it was burning my mouth or not. I sure was hungry.

I'll definitely have to thank him for this. I almost died from the lack of food.

"After that piece, I'll save it for you. You need to be in your dress and down the hall in ten minutes." I heard my mom lecture looking at her gold wristwatch, as I shoved the crust into my mouth.

I saluted and licked my fingers, heading towards the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my hands.

"Are you ready?" I saw a plastic bag that held my dress in it.

I nodded and took off my robe, which revealed the embarrassing black lingerie my best friend had put me in.

She said something along the lines of, I should get the attention of my man by wearing something hot.

As if I didn't get his attention already. I could hardly stop him from paying attention to me and what was underneath the clothes.

After I slipped on the dress, I was down the hall in a short period of time.

I was met with my mom, who would walk me down the aisle. I mean, who needed a dad anyway?

We hooked arms as I nervously held the bouquet. Even though I've woken up to his handsome face plenty of times, it still gets the knots in my stomach going.

Later, rather than sooner, our vows were said and the celebration of my marriage lasted for hours.

Kenji had been lying on my breasts for the past thirty minutes. I love him so much, I truly do, but I was about to snap, it was uncomfortable.

I shifted, trying to move his head so it would be lying between them instead.

"Why are you moving? Are you uncomfortable?" He looked up sweetly at me.

I glared at his handsome face, which pissed me off even more than his big ass head.

"Your fat head is hurting my boobs," I whined, shoving his head down to my mid-gut.

"You could have just said so; let's switch places then." He laughed softly, putting my comfort over his.

Right as I was about to question him, he had flipped us over. Where I had my back against his chest instead.

I snuggled my back into his chest, paying more attention to the movie now that I was comfortable and happy.

We got married two months ago, but yet he still says dumb shit like this.

"I can massage them for you." I could almost feel the smirk on his face.

I tore my eyes off the screen and just stared at him. How the hell is someone so perfectly annoying?

"As much as I'd like that, I'm watching a good movie right now, babe." I pointed it out, shifting so I could have more cover.

"Can I hold them then? They're always really warm." He commented, nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck.

Before I could comment, his hands slipped under my shirt, and I felt his extremely large hands hold my breasts.

This was some kind of 'normal' thing we would do. However, it most likely didn't seem as normal as he thought.

"Kenji?" I mumbled, my eyes burning from looking at the television screen without blinking.

He hummed to answer, and I could feel the small vibration through his chest.

"I love you."

He pulled his hand from my shirt and squeezed my body in a tight hug, "I love you too, baby."

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

a/n: this is from my book “Haikyuu x Reader One Shots” from Wattpad! I hope you enjoyed and let me know if you would like more!

the header is from FutakuchiKenji7 on X

[haikyu-mp4]

I would like to listen to One Thing with Futakuchi 🫶🏻

(This is such an adorable event!!!)

Now playing... One Thing

word count; 715 – f!reader, for my 1D x Haikyu event

“Have a great day!” you told the old lady who just bought a few peonies, appreciating her smile because you knew she would return when they wilted.

“You too, dear!”

A young man held the door open for her on his way inside, nodding politely before walking up to where you were arranging some flowers by the register.

“Hello, how can I help you today?” you asked, finally getting a good look at him. He was handsome, no doubt, quite tall and sporting a boyish charm.

“I need to get flowers for my grandmother. Probably roses or something is fine,” he said, so you pointed him towards the corner where you had a wide selection of roses.

“Roses are a classic,” you answered, a practised response by now, but then you sighed before adding another flower to the arrangement in your hands. “-but quite boring.”

The man stopped and turned back around to you, now having lifted one eyebrow that you mirrored as a challenge. “They’re for my grandma,” he said.

“Guess you’re not her favourite, then.”

He huffed and shook his head, but the grin told you he enjoyed this. Walking back over, he leaned both hands on the counter and tilted his head slightly. “Okay, flower genius. What would you suggest?”

You held eye contact and lifted the finished bouquet you had been preparing, which included a beautiful mix of some of your personal favourites. “This right here is a real winner, I’m telling you.”

“Is this what the grandmas like nowadays? Didn’t know they were so picky.”

“Anyone can buy flowers. The real winners are those who put a little heart into it.”

“Just saying she would be thankful for anything.”

“Probably, if that’s all she’s used to getting.”

While people rushed by outside on their way to wherever life was taking them, the two of you were completely caught up in this moment, eyeing each other like you were committing each detail of each others’ faces to memory without the other one noticing.

“You’re good.” He finally rolled his eyes and held up his credit card and you could just make out his last name on it before typing in the price with a little teasing cheer of victory. Futakuchi.

“I know.” Futakuchi took the opportunity to stare at you more pointedly. Obviously, you’re gorgeous, but even more attractive was how you kept up with the banter. Your last name was on your name tag and he almost accidentally said it out loud while repeating it in his head.

It was still repeating on a loop when he returned a week later, storming into your little flower shop. “Could you make another one of those bouquets?”

“Futakuchi,” you exclaimed in surprise at how suddenly he appeared while you were reorganising pots by the door. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice that you knew and remembered his name. “The same as last time? What for?”

As he answered, you brushed past him to gather all the flowers you needed to make what he wanted. “A girl I like.”

You wiggled your eyebrows, carrying everything to the register and beginning right away. “Oo, a special lady.”

Futakuchi huffed sharply, reminding you of the last time he was here as you glanced up for a glimpse of his charming smile. “She’s special, all right. Can’t figure out why, but she’s been on my mind.”

He asked what your name was and told you his in return, making time fly by telling you how his grandma loved the flowers he bought last time. Your hands worked with ease, threading the flowers together in a perfect balance to ensure whoever he gave this to would feel their heart quicken the same way yours did right now.

After he paid, your lips formed a straight line, assuming he would leave with the finished bouquet, but instead, he held it out to you over the counter with a sheepish smile. “Would you let me take you out for dinner?”

You grinned widely and accepted the flowers, hiding behind them as your cheeks burned. The stuff he said earlier was about you. “I’ll allow it.”

Futakuchi initiated his mission to make her get out of my head and fall into my arms instead.

And we all know it worked.

masterlist

[sassycheesecake]

Coming over to his work to bring him something he forgot at home.

„You forgot this!“ You give him your brightest smile but since you have to be at work as well, you leave as quickly as you came to his work place.

His coworkers/teammates all stare with big eyes after your retreating figure, wondering how their coworker/teammate was able to know such a beautiful person as yourself.

„Omg they are so beautiful. Are they going to work with us soon?? How do you know them?!“ Questions like those are being thrown around.

Your significant other just gives them a smirk and proudly says:

„That‘s my significant other. Keyword is mine.“

- TŌRU OIKAWA, ATSUMU MIYA,Tetsurō Kuroo, Kōtarō Bokuto, HAJIME IWAIZUMI, Kenji Futakuchi, Motoya Komori, Osamu Miya, GAO HAKUBA, Kōrai Hoshiumi, SHŪGO MEIAN, FUKURŌ HIRUGAMI, Nicollas Romero

[lizzy06]

Haikyuu! Date-Tech Fic Recs!!(Tumblr/AO3/Wattpad)

Haikyuu! Fic Rec Masterlist

DATE-TECH

Takanobu Aone x Reader

Futakuchi Kenji x Reader

Koganegawa Kanji x Reader

No Pairing(Wholesome Shit)

Jump the gap ✨by fathomfive(oneshot, friendship)Being 191 centimeters tall with a resting face like a slab of granite is just fine when you're the cornerstone of the Iron Wall. For going out in public, not so much. No one wants to sit next to Aone on the train, so Futakuchi, who can't resist a captive audience anyway, takes matters into his own hands. [COMPLETED]